Billionaire Happy After

Under the influence

We decided to switch so Christian was driving at a rest stop. He was thirty seconds away from having a heart attack and I was even closer to throwing him out of his own RV. He also informed me that he would be driving from now on, unless there was a situation where it was absolutely necessary for me to drive.

Which he said would not happen.

Someone is clearly a control freak.

It was fine with me though, since him driving just gave me more time to relax and do some research on my laptop. I was looking into the idea he had given me of retaking my courses from last year. There were some online options and night school classes that could help bump up my GPA. It was English that I had done the worst in, Shop had been okay since Lucas had been right, the teacher was an easy marker and never assigned homework and Spanish was a passable. I had Calc and Statistics from the year before, so that was alright. Second semester was all my business courses, and while I had done better than first semester, I'd still been pretty distracted by the investigation and trial and everything that they were mediocre at best.

I also had to retake my ACT test. I had done it last year- since my parents had signed me up then dragged me to the test center- and while I had gotten a twenty-six, which was pretty alright, it was not on par with the universities I had always dreamed of attending. That would have been in my reach if I had just buckled down and studied a bit instead of watching Lucas fix cars.

I did not even like cars.

Most days I wanted to go back in time and punch the old me in the face for being so stupid.

But since time travel probably was not going to be invented during my lifetime, I guess I was stuck dealing with the aftermath.

I ended up reading stories about people who got into Harvard and advice on a 'rock solid application' for university.

Great any advice for a girl who let a guy seriously f**k her up?

Okay, let's stop the pity party, Cia.

I wasn't exactly sure why I kept reading the stories, since they were kind of just depressing reminders of what wasn't going to happen, they just kind of sucked me in.

I guess I'm a f*****g masochist, then.

Or is it sadist?

No, it's masochist.

And this is why you failed English last year.

"I thought we talked about the not-into-pain thing." I jumped and glanced up to see Christian watching me with a bemused look as he pulled to a stop at a red light.

"What?" I asked, then realized what he was talking about. "Is s*x the only thing you think about?"

"Hey, you're the one who started muttering about sadists and s**t," he said. "Really starting to think you have a Fifty Shades fetish, Benjamin ."

"Yeah, it seems something about you makes a ball gag and crop a lot more attractive," I muttered, finally making myself exit out of the success stories site.

"Didn't we also establish that you weren't to be trusted with a whip?"

I resisted the urge to touch my face to see if my cheeks were as hot as they felt. "And you think you'd be better with it?" I can't believe I'm having this conversation with him.

The light turned green. He shrugged and focused back on the road. "I've used a crop before."

"What? When?"

"I've gone horseback riding before."

I gaped at him. "That's not the same thing!" I sputtered. "A-And that definitely doesn't- make you trustworthy with a- just no."

"I'm just kidding," he laughed, giving me a sidelong look. "Your face is so red." He began laughing so hard I was almost afraid he was going to crash the car for a moment. "Have you never talked about something dirty before?"

"Shut up!" I covered my face with my hands. "I don't want to talk about this with you anymore."

"What were you reading anyway?" he asked.

"Nothing," I muttered, peeking out at him through the gaps of my fingers.

He snickered. "Starting to think it was some kind of porn..."

I threw my hands up. "No! I- Why does it matter?"

"Because you were whimpering and staring at the screen like you just found out someone killed your puppy."

I stared at him. "And you thought I was reading porn?"

Christian shrugged. "Whatever gets you off, Benjamin ."

"I wasn't-" I cut myself off. "I was reading about how people got into Harvard."

His brow furrowed. "Why?"

"I don't know." I drummed my fingers against the edge of my laptop, avoiding his gaze when he turned to look at me. "It's like- Netflix at three in the morning. There are other things I should be doing and it's not adding anything to my life but it's addicting anyway."

He looked even more confused. "Why were you whimpering?"

"I wasn't whimpering." Was I?

He didn't respond, just raised an eyebrow and turned to look at me.

"Didn't you complain about me not watching the road while I drove?" I asked. Hypocrite.

Again, he didn't respond and instead continued looking at me expectantly.

I sighed. "It's just kind of depressing since I know that's not an option for me anymore."

Yes, Gigi just dump your whole pity party on him.

He surprised me, then, instead of responding, he grabbed his phone and began typing into it.

"Dude, you're driving!" I exclaimed.

"Just a sec," he muttered.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

After another moment of him multitasking, he set his phone back in the cup holder. "In three hundred meters, turn right." The computerized voice instructed.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To get ice cream," he replied.

"What? Why?"

"Because you need a pick-me-up."

"I'm fine!" I protested. "And it's like five degrees outside!"

He shrugged. "Just humor. While the idea of spanking kind of turns me on, I'm pretty sure actual tears wouldn't do it for me."

I choked. "I- Okay- I'm fine, really."

"Humor me then, because I want ice cream," he said, turning into a parking lot.

"Aren't we going to be late?" I asked as he got out of the RV.

"We'll be fine. Come on, Georgia live a little." He opened my door and pulled me out of the car.

"I look like s**t," I muttered. I hadn't washed my hair in a couple days so it was thrown up in a ponytail that was falling out, the old leggings I was wearing had started pilling and I was wearing a huge, faded sweater.

"Don't worry, Benjamin , it's not your fault," he said.

I stared at him. "What?"

He smirked as he held open the door. "Everyone looks like s**t next to me."

"What a gentleman," I mocked.

"You're welcome," he replied.

The shop had a slightly retro feel to it, but more modern with pale blue walls, wood floors and cream chairs and tables. There was a long chalkboard style menu along the back wall with over a dozen flavours of ice cream displayed in a glass case with cones and toppings stacked along the top. The store was empty except for the clerk who was on her phone behind the counter, who glanced up as we approached.

"Just let me know once you've decided," she said, before turning back to her phone.

"So, what do you want?" Christian asked.

I was still only halfway through reading all the flavours. "There's so many options."

"We could just get a scoop of each."

I turned to stare at him. "We don't have a freezer on the RV." I think. "Do we?"

He gave me a weird look. "Just to try, we don't have to keep it."

"No, it's fine." Considering there had to be at least fifteen different flavors and the sign advertised that it was three dollars per scoop- we really didn't need forty dollars worth of ice cream. "Hey look, they have boozy flavors."

Chocolate Whiskey, Tequila Lime Sorbet, Irish Coffee, Coconut Rum, Maple Bacon Bourbon, Strawberry Champagne, and Cake Batter Vodka.

"Do you think they actually have alcohol in them?" I asked Christian quietly.

He gave me a weird look. "Why are you whispering?"

I shrugged.

"I don't know, let's find out," he said, answering my original question.

Alcohol and ice cream... "Nah, I'm good. Do you think I should get lemon meringue or peppermint or cookie dough?"

"Just get all of them," he replied.

"That'd taste gross together." Lemon and Mint and Cookie Dough? "What are you going to get?"

He leaned down to look into the case. "What do you think of Irish Coffee?"

"That whiskey, caffeine and sugar is going to have a shitty crash," I said. "Are you actually going to get one of those?"

He shrugged. "I doubt they're really alcoholic. You ready to order?"

"Sure, I guess." Cookie Dough's always a classic.

He waved the clerk over. "Two scoops of Chocolate Whiskey in a chocolate dipped waffle cone with chocolate sauce, m&ms and chocolate sprinkles."

I stared at him. "Jeez, enough chocolate for you?" I turned to the clerk. "I'll just have a single scoop of Cookie Dough."

"Boring," he sang. "Live a little, Benjamin ."

"Through my ice cream choices?"

"Come on, at least make it match your s*x preferences," he said.

The poor girl behind the counter choked and nearly dropped his chocolate laden ice cream as she was handing it to him.

"You- You're horrible!" I exclaimed, my cheeks heating rapidly.

"S-So just Cookie Dough?" The clerk asked. Christian nudged me with his elbow as he licked up some chocolate sauce that was about to drip onto his hand.

I sighed. "With butterscotch sauce and toffee bits."

She nodded quickly and ducked her head down to scoop up the ice cream.

I turned to Jacen. "Happy?"

"She'll take two scoops," he added.

"That's so much ice cream," I whisper-screeched to him. "Do you know how bad that's gonna be for me?"

"It's your pick-me-up," he replied. "Besides, all of it could just go to your-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," I cut him off, knowing where he was going with this. "And I meant the sugar!"

"Is that everything?" The clerk asked, handing me my cone.He nodded. "That'll be twenty fifty."

I almost dropped my butterscotch-cookie goodness. Holy s**t that's a lot for ice cream.

But Christian didn't even blink, just handed over a twenty and a five. "Keep the change," he said. Hopefully it makes up for us- well, Christian - traumatizing you.

"Thank you!" I called over my shoulder as he pulled me out of the shop. "So does it taste like whiskey?" I asked, turning to him.

He pouted. "Not really."

I laughed at his expression. "She didn't check your ID or anything, so it's probably not really alcoholic."

He leaned over and licked the top of my cone, then scrunched his nose. "Well now I see why you were concerned about the sugar."

"Excuse me, you're the one who has triple chocolate everything!" I protested. Okay, so butterscotch sauce was pretty sweet, but compared to Jacen's...

"Mine's not as sweet as yours," he said.

"Yeah, it's probably sweeter."

He held out his cone. "Try."

"But you've licked it."

He raised an eyebrow. "It's a little bit too late to be worrying about sharing saliva, Georgia ."

Okay, that's true. I leaned forward and stuck my tongue out, licking off a little bit of the chocolate sauce and a m&m.

"Wait, do that again, but look up at me this time," Christian instructed, his voice a little hoarse. But his mouth twitched as if holding back a smile, so I couldn't tell if he was actually turned on or just amused.

"You're disgusting." I rolled my eyes, but did as he asked anyway, this time actually getting a fair amount of ice cream. "f**k, no wonder why yours isn't as sweet as mine, yours just tastes like slightly chocolate flavored whiskey."

He laughed. "I think they did pretty good getting the taste."

I shook my head. "Yeah, I'm not convinced it's fake anymore."

"I told you that sign said forty-five, not fifty-five!" I yelled half an hour later as red and blue lights began flashing behind us.

Christian slowed and pulled to a stop on the side of the road. "We'll just explain that it was an accident, it'll be fine."

I glanced back nervously as the cop switched off the siren and exited his car. I knew it was irrational, but the police made me nervous, it felt like they were out to get me. Obviously, I knew that wasn't true, and it was just my past experiences tinting my perspective, but I couldn't help the sinking feeling in my gut.

The only time I had ever really had a run in with the police outside of an officer coming to school for career day and drug-abuse education had, of course, been because of Lucas and the whole arson incident.

Everything hurt.

It felt like someone was banging on the inside of my skull, trying to escape. My throat felt itchy and dry, like I had swallowed sandpaper and my body ached all over, some parts like my elbow and thigh stinging. I didn't want to open my eyes, they felt grainy and heavy, but I forced myself to anyway.

A bright florescent light blinded me, making me groan.

"Georgia ?" I squeezed me eyes shut tighter then opened them again to see Ab standing over me.

"Water, please." Was that my voice? It sounded rougher than my throat felt.

"Here." He helped me sit up, then handed me a paper cup with a straw. "I'll get the doctor, let him know you're awake."

I sipped slowly as he walked out, hoping it would soothe my throat and make my head stop spinning. "What happened?" I asked when he came back in.

"There was a fire at our house," he said. "You don't remember anything."

"I-" I squeezed my eyes shut as a sudden bout of dizziness hit me. Wait. My eyes snapped open. "Lucas. Where's Lucas ?"

Ab stared at me. "We didn't tell him you were in the hospital."

"No- I mean- Lucas was there- is he okay?"

His expression grew even more confused. "Gigi , no one-" Someone knocked on the door, cutting him off. "Come in."

"Hello Ms. Benjamin ," a man in a set of blue scrubs and a white jacket entered with a clipboard. "How are you feeling?"

I wanted to ask Ab about luuagain, but not in front of the doctor. "I'm okay. Um, dizzy."

"I'm going to go find Mom and Dad," Ab mouthed, pointing to the door.

"Any other discomfort?" The doctor asked

"Um, my throat's kind of dry and I feel kind of sore," I replied.

He made a couple quick notes on his clipboard. "That's pretty standard with the trauma you've been through. What's today's date?"

I blinked. How long had I been passed out? "May... eleventh?" He wrote something else down. "Was that right? Was I out for a long time?"

He shook his head. "Today's the twelfth, just after four in the morning. You've been unconscious for a couple hours. What's the last thing you remember?"

"The fire... Hitting the ground outside."

"You don't appear to be suffering any memory loss. I'm just going to check if you have a concussion, alright?" He pulled out a small flashlight and told me to follow it with my eyes. After he took my blood and performed a couple more little tests, he stepped out of the room. He came back a few moments later with my parents and My brother

"Your daughter is fine," he said. "Just some bed rest and lots of water will help with recovery. Be aware the first couple of days for any sort of fainting or dizziness. If you feel nauseous or disoriented, come back immediately, alright?"

They nodded.

"The blood work will be done in about half an hour, and if that looks clear, then you're free to go home," he told us. "The nurse will come then to redress your wounds."

"Thank you, Doctor," Mom said. After he left the room, she turned back to me. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Confused." I glanced at Jax. I wanted to ask about Lucas but I wasn't sure if I should in front of Mom and Dad since they had told me not to see him again. "How's... How's the house?"

Mom shook her head. "Don't worry about that, Georgia ."

"The police are here," Dad said. "Do you feel alright with answering a few questions?"

"Why- The police?" It had been just an accident, hadn't it? The fire department or the insurance company made sense, but why the police?

"They just have a couple of questions," Mom assured me. "You don't have to right now."

"No, it's okay."

"I'll go get them," Dad said, leaving the room.

I turned to Ab . “What happened to Lucas?”

"They didn't find anyone else in the house,Gigi ," he told me. "One of the neighbors called it in when they saw the fire."

Had he left before it all started? That made sense why I couldn't find him. Most of that night before the fire was still kind of blurry. I had probably passed out and he had probably left after putting me in bed, or something.

Dad entered with two officers. "Georgia , this is Detective Momo and Officer Flex."

"We just have a couple of questions," Detective Momo said. "Is it alright if we record this?"

I glanced at Mom, then nodded when she gave me an encouraging look. Officer Flex gave me small smile as she pulled out the recorder and set it on the table beside me.

"Can you describe what you remember, Ms. Benjamin” Detective Momo asked.

"Um, I woke up in my room. It was really hot. There was smoke coming in from under the door. I crawled downstairs, and out the front door. I tried to get up to walk away, but I think I tripped or something. I don't really remember anything after that." I had tried looking for Lucas in the living room downstairs, but he was not even there.

"Where did the fire seem biggest?" The detective asked.

"In the living room. The entire place was on fire."

He nodded. "That's where we believe it started. Were you drinking that night, Ms. Benjamin ?"

I glanced at Mom and Dad, debating for a moment, then slowly nodded. I didn't want to admit it, and get in trouble, but if I was at the hospital, then they'd probably already done test and knew.

"You are aware that underage drinking is illegal?" he asked. I nodded. "Since it's your first offense, you'll be facing a two hundred and fifty dollar fine and thirty hours of community service for possessing alcohol as a minor."

It wasn't horrible, as it wasn't jail time, but I could see how disappointed my parents were.

"Do you remember anything from the time you were intoxicated?" Detective Momo asked.

I stared at my hands. "I think I was watching a movie when I passed out."

"Do you remember splashing alcohol on the walls?"

My head snapped up. I blinked several times as dark spots appeared in my vision and my head spun a little. "No- I- Wasn't the fire just an accident?" I wasn't sure why it came out as a whisper, since it's not as though I could hide the question- everyone in the room was silent.

Detective Momo gave me a hard look. "The fire was arson, Ms. Benjamin”

I squirmed under his hard stare. Was this an interview... Or an interrogation? Did the police think I started the fire? "That's not possible."

"Alcohol was splashed around the room as an accelerant," he replied. "It's very possible."

"I-" That night was still kind of blurry. I did not really remember what happened, but I wouldn't have... There was no way I could've done that, right?

"Were you watching a movie downstairs in the living room?" Officer Flex asked quietly, speaking up for the first time.

I nodded.

"How did you get up to your room?"

I rubbed my hands together, debating if I should tell them Lucas was there. He was underage too, and I had no idea what had happened with him after I passed out. "Um, I think my boyfriend brought me upstairs."

She nodded. "Your brother mentioned someone named Lucas ?"

Detective Momo gave her a sharp look. It was gone so fast I would've thought I had imagined it if Officer flex hadn't stopped asking questions after that. Maybe Ab had just told Officer Wyatt and she had forgotten to inform her partner.

I avoided looking at Mom and Dad. "He was with me that night, yes."

"How long was he there for?" Detective Momo asked.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I don't know when he left. He, um, he wasn't there when I woke up."

"Do you have an address for him?"

I nodded. "He has an apartment near Hampton Hills." I gave them Lucas address and watched Detective Momo jot it down.

"We'll contact you with any more questions," he said. "In the mean time, please stay in town, Ms. Benjamin ."

That confirmed it. He didn't think I was a victim or even a witness in the fire.

He thought I was a suspect.

It had worked out in the end, obviously, they had found Lucas and found him guilty, but there had still been something about Detective Momo that had set me off. I wasn't sure if it was just an uneasiness, because he had suspected me, but it had seemed like he wanted to pin it all on me. And I knew he was just doing his job, that he had to go with what seemed the most obvious, yet I still got nervous every time I saw a cop or cruiser.

"License and registration please," the officer instructed.

Christian pulled out his wallet and a couple of sheets of paper from the glove box. "It was an accident, officer."

He raised an eyebrow. "You were going ten miles above the limit."

"I thought the sign we passed a while back said fifty-five."

After taking a moment to read Christian’s license and the rental papers, the officer looked up at us. "What are you guys in Chicago for?"

"College tour. Going to see Northwestern and University of Chicago," I answered this time, my voice more steady than I thought it would be.

"I'll be back in a moment," the officer said, taking Jacen's license and papers with him.

"You good?"Christian asked turning to look at me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged. "You just looked kind of freaked out there for a moment."

"I'm just nervous around the police, that's all."

He looked like he wanted to ask more about it, but before he could, the policeman returned. "Breathe into this," he instructed Christian . He sighed, then blew into the tube connected to the machine the officer held out. A moment later it beeped. "You have a blood alcohol level of 0.02%."

"What?"Christian and I both asked at the same time.

"I haven't had anything to drink,"Christian said.

The officer leaned down. "Miss, do you have your driver's license on you?"

"Um, yeah, one sec." I scrambled to grab my bag from the back and pull my wallet out before handing it to the police officer.

"Please breathe into this." Jacen handed me the breathalyzer. I blew into the tube, then handed it back to the officer.

"0.00," the officer read after it beeped. "I'll be right back."

"You were driving while drunk?" I hissed at Christian once the officer left.

"0.02 isn't drunk. I haven't- I don't know-"

"The ice cream," we both realized at the same time.

"I don't think that's legal," I said. "She sold it to you without asking for an ID or anything."

He shrugged. "Maybe I just look twenty-one."

I stared at him, closed one eye, then opened it and closed the other, then squinted a bit. "Nope, don't see it."

"Hey-" Christian exclaimed, but before he could finish, the officer returned.

"I'm going to need you to switch drivers, and to follow me to the station," he said.

"Officer, is this really necessary?" Christian asked.

The policeman gave him a flat look. "This is a zero tolerance state. You're a minor driving under the influence."

"Look, I can explain-"

"Great, you can do so at the police station." With that, he returned to his car.

Christian sighed, then got out of the car as I crawled over to his side so I could drive. Okay, so the idea of having to go to the police station kind of terrified me, even though it wasn't my fault, but a part of this was also kind of ridiculous.

"Why are you laughing?"Christian asked when he got in the car.

I shrugged as I pulled onto the road after the police car. "Well, just this morning you said I was a driving hazard and that you wouldn't let me drive on this trip again and here we are an hour later."

"I didn't say I wouldn't let you drive," he protested. "I said it'd only be in a necessary situation."

"Well, I'd say he," I nodded to the police cruiser driving in front of us, "thinks you're more of a driving hazard than I am."

He groaned.

"Hey, you were the one who wanted to get alcohol flavored ice cream," I told him.