Dangerous | b.w.s

55

I jump back at his loud outburst and stare ahead. I know if I look at him I will be met by that glare and those cold, dark eyes.

"What the fuck was that? Why the fuck would you do that?" He screams at me. "Hey." He snaps at me, telling me to look at him.

I cautiously meet his eyes, I'm once again met with those dark pits I hate to look at. His face is almost red with anger, his neck vein prominent and his biceps flexing as he grips onto the steering wheel, his knuckles white from the grip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to refuse." I quietly say. I don't think I've ever seen him this angry, not even when he was punching Dylan.

"You didn't want to refuse?" He booms. "Why the fuck not? You don't know that prick! Why did you feel obligated to go to dinner with my dear beloved father." He spits, his voice venomous as he speaks about his dad.

"I didn't want to be rude, I wanted to make a good impression. He is your dad after all." I say. His eyes somehow become even darker and hooded as he stares at me. Crap. Obviously, I hit a nerve.

"Don't fucking call him my dad he hasn't earned that title, do you understand me?" He growls at me.

I nod silently, my hair is sticking up at the back of my neck, chills running down my spine as he shouts at me. My blood is beginning to boil with a mixture of fear and anger. I shouldn't be angry but I hate how he thinks he can just sit here and shout at me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you but I don't actually know what he's done and he seems perfectly nice to me, so I accepted." I shrug, my voice raising slightly.

"Of course he seems nice to you! You're too fucking naive to see other wise! I swear to fucking god you're so annoying sometimes." He groans and runs his hands through his hair, looking away from me.

"Naive? How am I naive for being polite to someone who is polite to me?" I shout back at him, I may have angered him but I don't deserve to be called names.

"He's not fucking polite, he is manipulative! There is a fucking difference! Obviously you can't wrap that around your tiny fucking brain." He spits, avoiding my eyes as he stares ahead.

"Really?" I scoff.

"Yes really." He snaps.

"Wow I thought we were past this, do you not remember what happened the last time you said hurtful shit to me?" I shout at him.

"Don't fucking blame this all on me, you aggravated me by talking to him, it was pretty fucking obvious I didn't want you to!" He booms, making my voice seem tiny. His hand slams against the steering wheel and grips onto it again.

"You can't control me all the damn time!" I shout, getting frustrated with him not listening to me. "If you would just listen to me instead of blowing up, we could sort this out without hating each other." I try and bring my voice down.

"You know what?" He looks at me with a blank stare. "I don't give a shit." He says calmly.

"What?" I ask, bewildered by his sudden calmness.

"You can leave." He says coldly.

"W-what?" I stutter. Where did this suddenly come from?

"You heard me. Get out. I don't need this shit." He runs his hands through his hair and leans over me, opening my door to prove his point.

I stare at him with my mouth wide open. We are miles from my house or anyone's house that I know. What does he expect me to do? Walk home? It would take me hours.

"Get. Out." He growls, staring harshly into my eyes. I step out of the car, anger fuelling my entire body.

"Fuck you." I spit and slam the car door, walking off furiously. I can't believe him. I genuinely cannot believe him.