Page 8 of Fueled Hate

“Hi, Sadie,” Jett says as he walks over, refilling Dylan’s drink and sliding it back across the wood bar. “Everything all right?”

After giving Dylan another glare of irritation, I look over to Jett. “Hey. Yeah, everything is great.” My smile for Jett quickly fades when I turn back to Dylan. “Just stay away from me.”

Yep. No chance I’ll be able to avoid thinking about this all night. Question is, why can’t I ignore him?

5

Dylan

It hasn’t taken much for me to get her stirred up, and in fact, it’s gotten easier and easier.

“What was that about?” the bartender—Jett, she’d called him—asks as we both watch her stomp away.

“Not sure,” I respond, turning to face him. His eyes are still on Sadie. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does.

“I’m guessing you’re not a friend of hers,” Jett says, finally removing his eyes from Sadie.

“Nope. I tried to be her friend, but she wanted to whack me with a lug wrench instead.”

“Sounds about right,” he says with amusement as he glances back to her.

“Can I get a glass of water?” I ask more forcefully than intended.

“You got it,” he says. Filling a glass with ice water, he slides it to me before he starts to step away. Hesitating a moment, he then says sternly, “Sadie is a good friend of mine. I don’t want to see her get hurt. She already has someone filling that spot in her life.”

He doesn’t wait for a response to his clear message. Sadie has douchebag Kyle for a boyfriend. The asshole quota is maxed out, yet I doubt I’ll be able to back off even if I tried.

“Well, well. Why am I not surprised to find you here?”

Fuck. “The real question is how did you find me.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?” Bryce slides onto the barstool beside me, signaling Jett for a beer.

“Yeah. That’s what I was hoping.” This isn’t good. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“No. I think you have that turned around. You are the one who shouldn’t be here.” Bryce takes a swig of his beer before plucking a fry off my plate.

Leaning back, I shove the plate away. “You need to leave.”

“You coming with me?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not leaving.” Bryce smirks as he downs the remainder of his drink. “So, what’s the plan?”

“For you to leave.” It’s pointless. I know this already, but I don’t want Bryce here. He’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. The last thing I want to do is drag him into my mess.

“I leave when you leave, so just say the word.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” I say.

“Good, because you have been a royal pain in my ass lately.”

“Then go. I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay. I’ll leave, but my first stop is informing your mother on your new school location. She thinks you’re having a great time with your fresh start in Florida.” Bryce dramatically looks around the bar before turning back to me. Leaning closer, he says, “Florida sure does look a lot like Texas.”

Shit. He knows I won’t argue with that. It’s not like she can stop me, no one can, but I don’t want to add any more stress or worry to her. She’s had more than enough of that recently. “Fine. Just stay out of my way.”