Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
WHEN BREE GOT TO HER HOUSE, SHE ALMOST TURNED RIGHT BACK AROUND. Rafe was sitting on her front porch, bouncing his foot when she climbed out of her car. She didn't even notice he was there until she looked up, and then she wished she had stayed with Pope and JJ when they asked if she wanted to.
He stood up when he saw her, walking toward her as she got ready to push past him. "Bree—"
"What the hell are you doing here?" she questioned angrily, not looking him in the eye when she reached down to pull the keys out of her pocket.
"Please, just let me explain," he pleaded, stepping in front of her so that she couldn't pass, causing her to finally glare up at him. "I am so sorry. It was an accident."
She was so close to punching him in the face it wasn't even funny. "I'm gonna say this one time. Get the fuck out of here."
"I didn't mean it. I need you to know that," he told her, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"I'm not breaking up with you because you hit me!" she yelled at him, gesturing to her eye. "I'm breaking up with you because you're an asshole that keeps hurting my friends."
He scoffed loudly. "Those people are your friends?"
"Yes, they are," she replied, her eyebrows raised, daring him to argue with her more. She thought back to the times they had when he was so sweet and acted like a gentlemen around her no matter how much of a jackass he was to other people. Did she miss those times? Yes. Would she go back to them? No.
"They're Pogues, Bree," he insisted like she hadn't known that fact before and him stating it would just suddenly change her mind, and she would just go running back to him. "They won't let you live up to your true potential. They're holding you back."
Her eyes widened in amazement when he said that. "If we're judging each other by the company we keep, that's a fight you're not going to win."
"You can do better," he informed her as if he was this 'better.'
"Rafe, get it through your thick skull," she told him, taking a step closer so that she could make sure he heard her low but stern voice. She was so done with him. "We're done, over, however you want to put it, but whatever you do, get the fuck off my lawn."
