Be Rude but Love Me | ✔

CHAPTER 2

Hey guys! Here is chapter 2 :)

•••

A man stands before me, his face, as mask of anger – or rather what I can see of his face since a growing beard takes up most of the space. A deep frown creases his forehead in three lines and his eyebrows almost touch one another as the frown turns deeper.

"Who are you and how the hell did you get in?"

With a loud thump, the hold-all he had dangling from his shoulder hits the floor at his feet. He's prowling towards me, menacing, his hair flying next to his face like Superman's cape. It would be a beautiful sight to behold, if it weren't for the fact that he is mad at me.

I start backing away, fearing for my life. I put distance between us and hide behind the couch, letting the huge piece of furniture between us. However, it isn't so huge to him because in one swift movement, his leg comes over the headrest and in two steps – one on the couch and the other on the floor – he's standing between the couch and me.

I cast a quick look at the couch and blink. It is a huge couch. It's not my imagination.

Fingers grab my arms forcefully but his grip on me doesn't hurt. "I asked you a question," he grits out as he comes to stand right into my face.

For a moment, I am annoyed. Not with his anger, but with the beard on his face. I am not a huge fan of beards, and sometimes I have to shave my dad's in his sleep – or half shave it since he rolls around often – because he refuses to. His beard is caveman-like and I want to get my hands on a razor right now and shave it all off.

"I will not ask you a third time," he warns, his breath right into my face. I expect it to stink or reek of alcohol or something, but it smells like food. Like fast-food food.

Realizing his patience is thinning by the millisecond, I don't hesitate as I take the key from my back pocket and hold it right there in his face. His eyes slowly flick to the key before settling back on my face, as if he doesn't get it.

I almost roll my eyes at him but think it wouldn't do me much good in the situation I am in right now. So I opt for a poker face. He doesn't seem pleased by the poker face however, and this time I do roll my eyes as I am about to tell him, "I used your key, dumbass."

But I don't say that.

I have no idea why I say the next words to him, but I do. "I think you forgot to change the back door lock."

My voice is pure mockery, taunting him.

And it has the desired effect. His face turns even more murderous and he's looking at me with utter repugnance. His other hand comes to secure my other arm in a firm hold and he steps even closer to me, towering over me, and I tilt my head back to look into his eyes.

"I swear if you don't–"

"I would have called the police by now," I tell him as I raise an eyebrow at him. "Why haven't you?"

That's the normal reaction. Grab a phone and call 911. Why isn't he doing it? Not that I am hoping he does. Hopefully, Ellie can placate him. She knows him. Speaking of her, where is she when I need her?

I am about to holler her name when he cuts me off. "Trust me, you're messing with the wrong person, sweetheart."

If I was unfazed by his threatening face and his gruff attitude, the venom in his voice leaves my blood cold. He lets me go and I almost fall back in the process. He steps away from me and gives his back to me for a moment. I see his fists clenching and unclenching by his side and I realize he is trying to calm himself down.