Protecting The Bad Boy

Chapter Sixteen

Before we start! I'm back guys, and yes it's been a lonnnngggg while ): Life kind of got away with me for a bit, but I can honestly say that I've had some of the most incredible months since I last posted an update (:

I'm so sorry for leaving you all hanging, but the good news is that I'm at it again. Yes that's right, Cynthia and Houston are back and better than ever!

So without further ado, I present to you chapter 16 (: It's a lil short but it's here! Thank you for your patience and support my loves, it inspired me to make sure that I came back and continued to write this story for you all x

Song of the Chapter: Dead Sea - The Lumineers

~

Chapter Sixteen: That Hole Won't Take You to Narnia

Driving in this state must be illegal, well it should be. Not that it would stop me but, well, I don't know I'm just saying.

All the way from the offices steam has practically been coming out of my ears and my anger is doing anything but dissipating. Going back to Houston in this state isn't an option. Avoiding a murder tonight is partially high on my list of priorities let alone the fact that he's the last person I want to see right now.

Thoughts are causing my brain to feel like it's suffocating; what if something happens to Colton? What if he dies? If one thing's for certain it's that I'd never forgive myself, or anyone for that matter.

Driving down the dark, dusty road, an illuminated neon sign reading 'Grilled Bar Open' catches my attention. The word bar drew me in first but now the word grilled sounds equally as enticing. Does that mean food?

Only one way to find out.

I don't bother flashing my indicator due to the deserted road and swivel onto the gravel path leading to the bar car park. I can already hear the rowdy voices from inside my car and grin. I close my eyes, lean into my seat and sigh as I realise this is just what I need.

Hopping out of the vehicle, I pull my phone from my back pocket, ignore my notifications and dial the only person I know that's as fucked up as I am.

-

"Wow, you contacting me for a change. That's fucking refreshing." He grunts, running a hand through his dark hair.

"What can I say; desperate times call for desperate measures. Am I right?" I offer as he takes a seat across from me.

The old wooden surface of the bar is sticky and carries the stench of beer. Our voices are barely audible over the other laughter, fights and discussions taking place throughout the room. We look odd, and almost out of place.

Purely down to the fact that we don't have a large scar down one of our eyes and talk like we don't smoke ten packs a day.

"Admit it," Max smirks, "you invited me so I could buy you alcohol right high schooler?"

"Wrong," I deadpan, "you know I don't drink anymore."

"Well," the smirk remains, "you really are no fun nowadays."

"This is the first I've heard you complain."

The corners of his mouth lift up even further. "I'll give you that one," he grins before he turns to the old man behind the bar and orders a scotch; neat.

"So if I'm not here for the ID checks, why did you reach out to me?" He inquires once he's finished joking with the tattooed raisin.

Broken out of thought I respond quickly. "I..." For some reason I can't seem to finish my sentence and that's when it hits me. I don't know why I called him. Sure on some twisted level he's screwed up to but I don't need him here. Do I?