Scout’s POV
“You look terrible for someone who supposedly won the prize,” a voice rasped, cutting through the heavy fog in my mind.
I groaned as the scent of expensive leather and stale bourbon filled my nose. My skull felt like it had been cracked open and stuffed with hot lead. I tried to swallow, but my tongue was a dry patch of sandpaper against the roof of my mouth. I didn’t recognize the shadows or the way the world swayed beneath me. I wasn’t in my bed. I was on a plush bench, and the hum of tires on asphalt told me I was moving fast.
The memories of the wedding hall hit me like a physical blow. The screaming. The look on Simone’s face right before the lights went out. The way everyone looked at me like I was a monster.
I sat up too fast. The interior of the limousine blurred fo
