In a world where the government is trying to control the population, every family is assigned to be either hiders or seekers. The hiders spend their lives hiding, while the seekers spending their lives finding and killing these hiders. Samantha John...
I pull up to the bar and the loud music immediately fills my ears. This is usually where I come when I am pissed off and need to take a chill pill. Except my "chill pill" is usually too many rounds of shots.
I park my car on the curb and hop out, not giving a fuck that I probably just scratched the bumper. I approach the entrance and earn a lot of stares from the people in line. I know that they know exactly who I am- everyone does. That's why I like Samantha so much. She has no clue who I am and what I've done. I push Samantha out of my head as I enter the club and proceed right up to the bar, glaring at anyone that looks my way.
"Get me a Rumple Minze," I demand, looking at the bartender whose boobs are protruding out from her shirt. I can't say I don't love it. She catches my stare, and a smirk plays on her lips.
"Coming right up, Mr. Styles," She flirtatiously responds with a giggle and wink, and I mentally gag. I hate when girls act like this; it makes me sick.
She passes over my shot and I quickly down it, the strong, peppermint taste not even affecting me. I am so beyond pissed off about what just happened with Samantha. Did she really want something more with me? Sure, we kissed, and I can't get her out of my mind, but a relationship would never work.
"Another one. Now," I order, and the bartender happily obliges, sliding me over three more. Why can't Samantha be this obedient?
I need to stop thinking about her. I am about to take another shot when I see a hand reach out and grab the glass. What the fuck? I turn my head to see who the fuck thinks it's okay to touch my shit and I mentally groan.
"Well, well, well... if it isn't Harry Styles," her annoying voice chirps and I roll my eyes. The petite blonde takes her seat next to me, throwing her head back and putting my shot down easily.
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"Oh, fuck off, Hayliee," I growl, focusing back on my drink. This was one of my few recurring hook ups before I disappeared a few months ago. I haven't seen her since I decided to come back to town.
"It's been a while. Did you miss me? I sure missed you," Hayliee purrs seductively, while lightly touching my arm. It doesn't feel the same as when Samantha touches my arm.
I yank my arm away and shoot her a warning glare. "Not one bit," I sneer. Can't she take a bloody hint? I obviously want to be alone.
"Oh, come on, Harry baby. I know you missed how good I felt around you," she winks, her arm moving down to my thigh, fingers moving feather-link along the seam of my jeans.
"I said no," I hiss sternly in a cold, clipped tone, ripping her arm off my thigh. She looks taken aback as she gapes at me.
This bitch was always so annoying and desperate. Don't get me wrong, she was one of the best hook ups I've ever had, but I only have one person on my mind right now. Fuck, what am I saying?
