CHAPTER NINETEEN
RAK’S POV
You know how you wake up in the morning nursing a hangover and a million regrets dancing in your brain then you tell yourself you are never drinking again? Heck, you even swear on it with your favorite actress but by the end of the day you are so f*****g wasted you can’t tell black from white? Well, I happened to be one of those people at this very moment. Maybe I could still tell black and white; that is if Lamon’s shirt was actually black. Or was it grey? No, it kind of looked like navy blue, perhaps the color of lead?
“What color is your shirt?” I asked and Lamon stopped mid-sentence to look at me with a puzzled expression. He was talking about something with my parents and I had lost interest mid-conversation, seeking solace in whatever remained in the wi
