Ambush
Erin tried to seduce Kieran, told everyone I was a rapist’s daughter, plotted with Conor to destroy my reputation.
‘Conor’s not my friend.’ I pried her fingers from my arm. ‘Even if he is, what makes you think I’ll help you after everything you did? You came here to ask me for help, but you never once said you are sorry.’
I left Erin on the sidewalk, a pathetic, blubbering mess.
I made the mistake of helping her once.
I wasn’t going to do that again.
I rubbed my sore wrist—Erin had quite a strong grip.
I’d scarcely taken five steps when a black Bentley pulled up alongside me.
My hand stole towards the pepper spray in my bag when the rear window rolled down.
Beata’s solemn face peered out.
I stood at attention.
The front passenger side window came down.
‘Amiyah, get in.’ Claire called out.
I hesitated.
This felt like an ambush.
My phone was in my bag.
It would take two seconds to get to it, another two to dial Kieran’s number.
‘Come on,’ Claire tapped a manicured finger against the wind
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