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Parker suddenly looks in my direction as I approach them, her grey eyes grow large as fear crosses her face.
“So, what do you say about that second drink, huh? Or maybe one at my place?” The guy is asking Parker as I grab him by the collar of his shirt.
He swings around, startled by me, and doesn’t anticipate anything until I punch him in the nose. Pain travels through my knuckles as I punch him again, catching him in the jaw this time.
“Hudson, what the hell is wrong with you?!” Parker screams as she grabs my arms, but I push her off.
She made me mad. She asked for this to fucking happen.
Hot anger surges through my veins as the guy attempts to take a swing at me.
“How about you and I get a fucking drink, huh?” My eyes search the bar top and I grab the open tequila bottle, before holding the guy down and shoving the bottle into his mouth.
He chokes and people start gathering around us, but I continue to watch as he struggles for air, the tequila spilling from the corners of his mouth.
“What is wrong with you?” Parker tugs at my t-shirt and I glance at her for a split second, her grey eyes full of tears.
“You better get out of my club before I call the cops!” A man shouts, from somewhere behind the bar.
I throw the tequila bottle down and grab Parker’s arm as I drag her out of the nightclub.
She doesn’t protest, attempt to strike me, or cry as we reach the Mustang. I open the door for her and she silently gets inside and when I get in beside her, she’s staring straight ahead.
For the first time, I’m confused by her emotion. I can’t tell what she’s thinking.
“We need to end this,” she says after a moment.
I sit back in my seat and start the car up, before pulling out onto the road.
Instead of answering her, I just drive to nowhere in particular.
“I hate you,” she whispers. “I hate you, Hudson.
