Chapter 50

                                    

                                          
It was four in the morning which was too early to do anything useful like vacuum without being incredibly rude to anyone who lived around you, and it was too late to get a full night of sleep, and both were off the table because I was very much in jail. Which was... well, not awesome.
                          
"You look like crap," a voice said right outside my cell. 
                          
I looked up to find Laurence Royal leaning against the bars, taking me in, in my empty jail cell.
                          
I sat on a loan dirty bench which was covered in questionable stains, fingers weaving into my hair, sporting a now very wrinkled— yet still very stylish outfit.
                          
"Looks like you got your bar fight after all."
                          
"Royal?" I asked, mostly to confirm that he was real and not a hallucination from the concussion I probably had. 
                          
I rubbed my temples, trying to clear my head. "Play to your strengths right? I've never been a good flirter. A good fighter on the other hand..." I trailed off. 
                          
Laurence fought a smile, seeming to disagree, but refusing to speak to it. "How you holding up?" he asked, crossing his arms.
                          
I gingerly touched my cheek, wincing at the sharp pain and the fresh blood now coating my fingers. "Not too bad. You should see the other guy." 
                          
I bit my lip, embarrassed by my terrible choice of words. Great job Allie. 
                          
I finally met his gaze. "Have you seen Carter yet?" 
                          
"He's my next stop," Laurence replied, his shoulders slumping, the weight of his awful brother tugging at his shoulders. 
                          
"Sorry, you had to see that," I murmured, thinking back to him watching me pummel his younger brother on the dance floor of the club.
                          
He tucked his hands into his pockets, brows furrowed. "You didn't pull any punches. Not that I blame you after what he pulled. I just... I didn't know he was so..." Laurence paused, searching for the right words. "He was just my kid brother a few days ago and now he's... well..."
                          
A dumpster fire of chaos? I refrained from saying anything. He already knew. And based on the look on Laurence's face, he really didn't need mean, but very true commentary into his personal life. 
                          
"Awful," he finished, voice breaking. 
                          
"Even if he isn't involved with what happened at the Masquerade..." Laurence murmured, unable to meet my eye line. "I need to get him help. I need to fix this..."
                          
"You gonna bail him out?" I asked quietly, barely able to keep my theories to myself. There was so much that Laurence didn't know. And the reality of it broke my heart. But I couldn't tell him. Not yet. He would know the truth soon enough. 
                          
Laurence traced a pattern across one of the bars of the jail cell, eyes distant. "After making him sweat for a bit, yeah."
                          
I smiled up at him. "Delle's rubbing off on you."
                          
He searched my face, eyes uncertain. "I can't tell if that is supposed to be a compliment, or an insult..."
                          
"Depends on your perspective." 
                          
"True. I'll take it as a compliment then." Pushing away from the bars, Laurence glanced down the hall. "You have someone to bail you out?"
                          
"Yep. He's just making me sweat."
                          
Laurence chuckled. "Another good person then. You gonna be okay until then?"
                          
I nodded, ignoring the pang of uncertainty that turned into a lump in my throat as Laurence turned to leave.