Chapter 3: Andy's POV

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I finally get out of the bar, and all that I can hear is muffled music and chatter, and the pounding of my leather boots on the damp, moonlit sidewalk.

Where could Ashley have gone? I follow the path I think he would have chosen. I can't let him be alone in a place like this, he could get hurt.

As I turn the next corner, my shoulder collides with a beefy neck. It belongs to a man who's plastered with tattoos and sweat, with a black tank top and golden chain round his neck. The look is complete with a menacing scowl on his face.

"Where do you think you're going?" He growls, his voice thick with a New Jersey accent.

"I'm sorry, I was just, erm..." I flounder for words but I appear to be tongue-tied.

"Kissing my girlfriend, that's what you were doing."

"Your girlfriend? I don't-"

"Juliet! Come here." Arms crossed, she steps forwards casually. She wears an expression of 'that's what you get for messing with me'.

My eyes go wide with shock, and then narrow in hatred. How could I have just thrown myself at her?

"Now, you can't just go around smooching other men's girls. So, do I have to teach you a lesson?"

"I'm really sorry, I didn't-" A fist hits the underside of my jaw, whipping my head back. I manage not to make a sound. He can't know how scared I am.

Another punch to the nose, and iron tints my nose as warm blood drips down to my lips. I wince with pain, letting out a small noise.

Grabbing his shoulders, I attempt to push him off me, but it doesn't work. A second fist crashes into my cheek, making me cry out.

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