First message
Get in….NOW.
No!
She didn’t stop. Shoulders hunched stubbornly through the downpour, sneakers squelching, she kept marching forward.
The headlights cut through the rain and cast fractured shadows over the sidewalk as it crept along at her pace, passenger window rolled down.
And she absolutely refused to look at him. His fist connected with the steering wheel.
Get your ass back in the car!
Beaux’s voice cut through the drumming rain, sharp and tight. He leaned across the empty passenger seat, steering with one hand while his eyes burned holes into the side of her face.
I’m not playing this game with you! He yelled over the pounding of rain on the windshield. Look at you, you look insane! Get the FUCK IN.
If I’m so embarrassing, then leave.
She shouted it at the dark pavement ahead of her. Oh that was fucking it.
Oh, so now you're going to walk five miles in a thunderstorm because you can’t answer a goddamn question??
He accelerated. Pulled a foot onto the sidewalk to cut her off. Threw the car into park.
You’re acting crazy. I said I was sorry, baby. What else do you want?
She stopped dead. Her eyes finally met his.
You're not sorry. You just want to control me. You never trust me.
Beaux’s expression hardened, the mock-patience instantly evaporating. He reached over and shoved open the passenger door from the inside.
Get. In. The. Car. Don't make me get out.