CHAPTER 22: Feeling comfortable.
“I’m sorry,” Creighton murmurs, sitting on the uncomfortable seat next to me.
He looks defeated, as if the weight of the world has fallen onto his shoulders and he no longer has the strength to hold it up.
I chew thoughtfully on the inside of my cheek as I watch him in quiet silence.
He still doesn’t look at me.
In fact, Creighton hasn’t looked at me even once since the police caught us and locked us in this cell.
I gently bump his shoulder with mine, silently asking him to look at me.
He doesn’t.
Seeing him like this, so down, touches something deep in my heart, and I just feel this fierce desire to bring back his chaotic, carefree self.
“Creigh…” I whisper, but he stays there, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, head bowed, staring inte
