Burned (Hate at First Flight #2) ✔️

43. Memorable Last Words

Roughly two (2) chapters left
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I realized two things as I stared at Douglas, who was unconscious and looked like he'd been through a tornado and back.

One, Alex had duped me. She and the others were nowhere to be found and that would obviously not have left Douglas the way he is. But then again, they did call me and had tricked me into coming here.

Two, I had obviously walked into something I should never have walked into. Douglas would definitely be livid if he knew I was here right now.

Don't get me wrong. I don't have any preconceived notions that Douglas cares what I thought of him. What I meant was that no one would want someone who wasn't practically family around when they were in this sort of situations.

Now everything that had happened the day before had somewhat made sense. Quincy's somewhat brusque behavior. He wouldn't have wanted someone like me, who wasn't a part of their inner circle knowing about what happened to Douglas on this day.

Douglas' lack of communication ever since his visit to my apartment the other day. And even his behavior yesterday at the party.

From what I'd gathered over the past couple of months I've known them, everyone had somewhat told me that everything that happened in the tabloids, everything that made everyone believe Douglas Burns was nothing more than an overspoilt playboy was all a facade for his father.  Other than that Douglas Burns couldn't stand being in the public eye, nor did he like flaunting his wealth.

Everything that had happened ever since we met was all to get back at his father. For what exactly, that I didn't know. But what I could guess was that it had to do with his father.

Douglas' actions at the party yesterday was for his father. At least that's what I assumed. I couldn't truly know. Only Douglas knew.

I contemplated what to do as I continued to stare at Douglas. His white shirt was stained with I can't even begin to identify. It was different colours all mixed into one.

His normally styled hair was messy, unruly and not in the sexy way. It was wet with what I could guess was sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead and scalp like a second skin as he leaned back against the lazyboy.

He had only one shoe on, the other one lay right next to the grand piano across from him.

There were several empty bottles of beer lying around. From what I could count, there was at least six empty bottles.

Prince, his beloved dog was lying across the room, his eyes watching me as I assessed his owner before he realized I wasn't a threat and went back to chewing on his chewtoy.

I walked up to Douglas, my heart breaking at the sight of him being so disheveled. Douglas was always so put together, so neat, so unlike what I was seeing before my eyes.

I kneeled down right next to him, placing my phone down, screen face down so that the light hit the scrolling and provided some semblance of light in this otherwise lightless place.

I wondered why exactly he had left all the lights off, why he hadn't opened up the curtains, why he had to be in the sorry state that he was in right now.

I wondered why no one else was here, why Will and Georgia weren't here with him, why Quincy wasn't here.

I wondered why today of all days, he thought her deserved to suffer. I knew from having overheard Georgia and Quincy that day that this was an annual occurance, always happening today, the day his mother had died.