Chapter 103

“No,” Zed responds.

Hardin sits down next to me but keeps his glassy eyes focused on Zed. I look down at the bottle, which is at least a fourth gone. I pray that Hardin has not consumed all of it tonight, within the last hour and a half.

“Yeah, it is. I’m not stupid. You want her; Molly told me everything you said before.”

“Leave it alone, Hardin,” Zed growls, only egging Hardin on. “Your first problem is talking to Molly.”

“?‘Oh, Tessa is so beautiful, Tessa is so sweet! Tessa is too good for Hardin! Tessa should be with me!’?” Hardin mocks.

What?

Zed avoids looking at me. “Shut the fuck up, Hardin.”

“Hear that, babe? Zed thought he could actually have you.” Hardin laughs.

“Stop it, Hardin,” I say and get up from the couch.

Zed looks humiliated. I shouldn’t have asked him to drive me home. Did he really say those things about me? I had assumed the way he acted toward me had to do with shame over the bet, but now I’m not so sure.

“Look at her, I bet you’re thinking about it right now . . . aren’t you?” Hardin taunts him. Zed glares at Hardin and sets his drink on the table. “You will never have her, kid, so give it up. No one will have her except me, I’m the only one who will ever fuck her. The only one who will know how good it feels to have her—”

“Stop it!” I yell. “What the hell is wrong with you!”

“Nothing, I’m just telling him how it is,” Hardin answers.

“You’re being cruel,” I tell him. “And disrespectful to me!” I turn to Zed. “I really think you should go.” Zed looks at Hardin, then back to me. “I’m fine,” I assure him.

I don’t know what will happen, but I know it won’t be as bad as what will occur if he stays. “Please,” I beg.

Finally Zed nods. “Fine, I’ll go. He needs to get his shit together. Both of you do.”

“You heard her, get the fuck out. Don’t be too sad, though, she doesn’t want me either.” Hardin takes another drink. “She likes those clean-cut pretty boys.”

My heart sinks even lower, and I know I’m in for a long night. I don’t know if I should be afraid, but I’m not. Well . . . a little, but I’m not leaving.

“Out,” Hardin repeats, pointing, and Zed heads for the door.

Once Zed is no longer in the apartment, Hardin locks the door and turns to face me. “You’re lucky I didn’t beat his ass for bringing you here. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I agree. Arguing with him doesn’t seem like a good idea.

“Why did you even come here?”

“I live here.”

“Not for long.” He pours more alcohol.

“What?” The air leaves my lungs. “You’re going to kick me out?”

When the glass is full, he cocks one eye at me. “No, you’ll leave on your own eventually.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Maybe your new lover has room at his place. The two of you looked really nice together.” The hateful way he’s speaking to me takes me back to the beginning of our relationship, and I don’t like it.

“Hardin, please stop saying those things. I don’t even know him. And I’m incredibly sorry for what I did.”

“I will say what I want, just the way you do whatever the fuck you want.”

“I made a mistake, and I’m sorry, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me so cruelly and drink like this. I was so drunk, and I really thought something happened with you and that girl, I didn’t know what to think. I’m so sorry, I’d never hurt you purposely.” I say it all as fast as I can, with as much emphasis as possible, but he isn’t listening.

“You are still talking?” he snaps.

I sigh and chew on my cheek. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. “I’m going to go to bed and we can talk when you aren’t so drunk.”

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even look at me, so I take off my shoes and walk into the bedroom. As soon as I go to close the door, I hear glass shatter. When I rush into the living room, the wall is wet and glass litters the floor. I watch helplessly as he grabs the other two glasses and slams them against the wall. He takes one last swig from the bottle and then uses all of his strength to shatter it against the wall.

Chapter sixty-three

TESSA

He grabs the lamp off the table, causing the cord to rip out of the wall before smashing it on the floor. Then he grabs a vase and breaks it against the brick. Why is his first instinct to break everything in sight?

“Stop it!” I scream. “Hardin, you’re going to break all of our stuff! Please stop it!”

“This is your fault, Tessa! You fucking caused this!” he shouts back and grabs another vase. I scurry into the living room and snatch the object from his hand before he can break it.

“I know it is! Please just talk to me,” I beg. I can’t hold my tears back any longer. “Please, Hardin.”

“You fucked up, Tessa, so badly!” His fist slams against the wall.

I knew this was coming, and honestly, I’m surprised it took this long. I’m thankful he chose the drywall to hit—the brick surely would have damaged his hand much worse.

“Just leave me alone, dammit! Go away!” He paces back and forth before slamming both palms against the wall.

“I love you,” I blurt. I need to try to calm him, but he’s just so drunk and intimidating.