Chapter 12 (1/2)

“Why would I be loving this? I hate seeing you this way. I never want you to be hurting like this, Hardin.”

He smiles and softly chuckles before lifting the bottle and pouring some liquor onto the couch cushions. “Did you know that rum is one of the most flammable of spirits?” he says darkly.

My blood runs cold. “Hardin, I—”

“This rum here is one hundred proof. That’s pretty damn high.” His voice is hazy, slow, and frightening as he continues to douse the couch.

“Hardin!” I exclaim, my voice growing louder. “What are you going to do then? Burn the house down? That isn’t going to change anything!”

Waving a dismissive hand toward me, he sneers, “You should go. No kids allowed.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” Feeling brave, and slightly afraid, I reach for the bottle and grip the handle.

Hardin’s nostrils flare and he tries to loosen my grip. “Let go of it. Now,” he says through his teeth.

“No.”

“Tessa, don’t push me.”

“What are you going to do, Hardin? Fight me over a bottle of alcohol?”

His eyes go wide; his mouth opens in surprise when he looks at both of our hands playing tug-of-war.

“Give me the bottle,” I demand, tightening my grip on the handle of the large bottle. It’s heavy, and Hardin isn’t making it any easier, but my adrenaline is pumping, giving me the strength I need. Cursing under his breath, he pulls his hand away. I didn’t expect him to give in that easily, so as his weight is removed, the bottle slips from my hand and topples to the floor in front of us, spilling onto aged wood.

I reach for it as I suggest the opposite: “Leave it there.”

“I don’t see the big deal here.” He grabs the bottle before I can and pours more liquor onto the couch, then walks in a circle around the room, leaving a trail of flammable rum behind him. “This shithole is going to be demolished anyway. I’m doing the new owners a favor.” He looks at me and shrugs playfully. “This is probably cheaper anyway.”

I slowly turn away from Hardin and reach into my purse to find my phone. The battery warning symbol is flashing, but I pull up the only number that could possibly help us at this point. Keeping the phone in my hand, I turn back to Hardin. “The police will come to your mother’s house if you do this. You will get arrested, Hardin.” I pray that the person on the line can hear me.