Chapter 102 (1/2)

“You know how fucked-up you are? You pretended to by my fucking friend, and then you go and pull this shit?” Hardin begins pacing again, this time in a smaller circle across the empty space in the dining room.

“I wasn’t pretending! You messed up again, and I was trying to help her!” Landon yells back at Hardin. “I’m both of your friends!”

My heart is racing as Hardin crosses the room and wraps his fists around Landon’s shirt.

“Help her by taking her away from me!” Hardin pushes Landon against the wall.

“You were too high to care!” Landon screams into Hardin’s face.

Sophia and I are both watching, frozen. I know Hardin and Landon much better than she does, and even I don’t know what to say or do. It’s pure chaos: the two men yelling in each other’s face, the noise from Ken and Karen rushing down the stairs, the rattling and shattering glasses and plates from how Hardin grabbed and dragged Landon to the wall.

“You knew what you were fucking doing! I trusted you, you piece of shit!”

“Go on, then! Hit me!” Landon exclaims.

Hardin’s fist rises, but Landon doesn’t blink. I yell Hardin’s name, and I think I hear Ken doing the same. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Karen tug at Ken’s shirt, holding him back from stepping between the two men.

“Hit me, Hardin! You’re so tough and violent—go on and fucking hit me!” Landon goads again.

“I will! I’ll—” Hardin’s hand lowers, only to rise again.

Landon’s cheeks are red with anger and his chest is heaving, but he doesn’t look the least bit afraid of Hardin. He looks pissed off and very collected at once. I feel the opposite; I feel like if the two people I care about the most get into a fight right now, I don’t know what I would do.

I look at Karen and Ken again. They don’t seem concerned for Landon’s health. They are too calm right now while Hardin and Landon are screaming back and forth.

“You won’t do it,” Landon says.

“Yes, I fucking will! I will smash this stupid fucking cast . . .” But Hardin trails off. He stares at Landon and turns back to look at me before focusing on Landon once more. “Fuck you!” he shouts.

He lowers his fist and turns on his heel to leave the room. Landon is still against the wall, looking as if he might punch something himself. Sophia is on her feet now, moving to comfort him. Karen and Ken are talking quietly between themselves, walking toward Landon, and I . . . well, I’m standing in the middle of the dining room, trying to understand what just happened.

Landon demanded that Hardin hit him. Hardin’s temper was already shot; he felt betrayed and screwed over again, and yet he didn’t do it. Hardin Scott walked away from violence, even in the heat of the moment.