Page 78 of The Plan

“Oh bull-fucking-shit! Do not pull the addict card because you’ve lied about a lot more.” Here he goes with this again.

“If you’re referring to me lying about whether or not I told Isa that Santa isn’t real, then I’ll come clean. Yes, it was me, and I don’t regret that either. It’s time she found out.”

“She’s four years old, you dick.” I open my mouth, but he puts a finger up, cutting me off. “You know what? You aren’t allowed near my daughter anymore.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jackson, your daughter likes me more than you.” Isabelle has been calling me Uncle Sigh since she could speak, so there's no way he’s just not going to let me see her.

I actually haven't seen her in a while. I make a note to myself to pick her up early from school later today. Jackson will be pissed, but that’s the point.

“Sire, I know you and Vid have—”

“Don’t call her that.”

“I know you andVhave history, and it’s very honorable of you to defend her the way you did, but she’s fine now, and you have to think about what's at stake here.”

“She’s notfine now.” My voice comes out more bitter than I intended, and a sympathetic look covers his face. Jackson went to college with Vid and me, so he knows her to an extent, and when he says he knows we have “history,” he means he knows we dated. No one besides August knows what really happened between the two of us.

I think about her for a second as I pack my bag. She would agree with him, and I hate that she still has control over me. “What do you want me to tell the press when I speak to them?”

I pass by the bakeryon my way home but stop in my tracks and turn back around. Walking in, I quickly buy something. On my way here, I saw someone sneaking a picture of me, so I know paparazzi are going to be flooding this place soon.

I think the coast is clear, but I’m proven wrong as soon as I walk out, and cameras are in my face.

“Sire Griffin! Over here!”

“Are the allegations true?”

“What do you have to say to your fans?”

I plan on ignoring them, but then I remember my previous conversation with Jackson. I let out a sigh as I turn back around to face them. A few of them look surprised and excited, considering I never stop to talk to them.

A woman in a red blouse puts her mic to me first. “Is it true that you are facing manslaughter charges?”

“No.” I keep all my answers short like Jackson told me to. It makes it harder for them to twist my words.

“Is Ms. Gomez okay?”

“She’s safe, yes.”

“Do you regret killing that man?” There’s the million-dollar question.No, I don’t.

“I didn’t kill him.” That part is true. I took part in his death, maybe yeah, but he technically didn’t die at my hands. Unfortunately, he died from something related to his wounds. Vid was the one who stabbed him, but that was obviously self-defense, so no one’s facing any damn charges that they keep rambling about.

“Are you and Vidia Gomez together?”Where do they get these fucking questions?

“No.” I turn to walk away, but they follow me, as I expected. One of the male reporters asks his questions louder than the rest, so it’s the only one I can hear.

“So, is she on the market?” The fuck? I spin around on my heel. A few of them take a step back, but the daring ones hold their cameras and microphones closer.

“She isn’t an object or a piece of ass that’s up for sale, so no, she isn’t on the fucking market.” Who even says that shit? The one who asked if we were together speaks up again.

“That sounds pretty defensive for someone who isn’t with her. The fine men of California just want to know if the hotshot doctor is up for takes.”Up for takes?

“She isn’t.” A smirk grows on a few of their faces at my tone. I don’t know what the hell they're trying to get out of me, but they’re starting to piss me off. This is why I don’t talk to them.

“If she isn’t single, then who’s the lucky man she’s with?”

“What? No, she—”

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