Chapter Twenty-One
Jordan
“Hey.”
“What’s up, Garret?” I asked, my cell pressed to my ear while I toweled off my sweaty face.
“My sister just called.” He sounded out of breath like me, but I expected it wasn’t from running five miles in the stifling August heat. “Check out The Savoy’s front page.”
A sneer pulled my lips as I tossed the towel into the bathroom’s hamper. “I don’t give a s**t about whatever bull they’re running with this week.”
It seemed every other month they dug for trash on me and ended up with nothing but lies I chose to ignore.
“You will this time,” Garret said, the absurdity of his tone told me all I needed to know.
I hung up, and a quick voice command brought up The Savoy’s front page—with it’s clear as f**k picture of me sleeping in the church’s bed.
“The f**k
