ZOE
I pulled the plastic out from between my breasts and clenched my fingers around the damn card, as if it burned. I took a deep breath, turned around, and shoved it into his jacket pocket with a sharp motion.
"Thanks for the handout, Mr. Foster. But I'm not your charity project or your high-class wh**e."
He raised an eyebrow, amused, unfazed by my tone.
"High-class wh**e? I'm just being condescending towards you. I'll say it again: I'm not interested in getting involved with you again."
"I don't need your charity, Mr. Foster. You're paying the hospital bill and that's all I care about," I huffed, crossing my arms.
He leaned toward me, that half-dangerous smile painting his lips.
"You're too proud to recognize that I was just being kind to you."
"Hiding me like I'm your guilty lit
