I Hate Him (One Direction Fanfiction)

Chapter Eight

I feel like I haven't posted in, like, twelve years. I've kinda been demotivated but then I got on and saw this book has gotten 1k reads!!!!

I coulda shit my pants from how happy I was!! Omfg no that's so wrong rofl.

You guys are amazing thank you so much for the lovely comments

Happy Reading

P. S. You guys made my day. You're all beautiful people.

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My mouth hung open a little more dramatically than I intended. "Is that Liam Payne from One Direction?" I asked in a tone that I hoped didn't make my feigning surprise too obvious. "Hi! I didn't know you would be here at all!" I stutter, struggling to stay standing. "What are you doing here?"

Liam searched my face, looking back as forth between both my eyes. He parted his lips, taking in a sharp breath before briefly squeezing his eyes shut in what seemed to be annoyance. "I could say the same for you," he said in a tone so calm, it scared me a bit. He stared intensely at me, then turned to glare at the bartender who, might I add, was getting more attractive by the moment. I realized I didn't even know his name.

"Sorry, bro," Mr. Bartender remarked, smirking at Liam. "I didn't know she was a fan, I swear. But this is bloody rich! I'd say you're lucky, but she's mine for tonight," he laughed harshly.

Liam pursed his lips and stood up from his chair, walking directly in front of Mr. Bartender. He stared him down for a few long moments, Mr. Bartender's tough exterior slowly wasting away under Liam's heated gaze. Then, the silence was broken. "You drugged her?" Liam asked casually, backing away to a less threatening distance.

"Drug me? I'm not drugged, I'm fine!" I explained with an oblivious smile.

Mr. Bartender looked me over before cracking out a smirk, completely ignoring my words. "Now, now, that's such a harsh word, Payne. I prefer the term 'intoxicate'. I intoxicated her... With my charm," he said with a heavy laugh and a thick accent matching the famous British boy's.

Liam joined in with the laughter, his eyes crinkling up in humor. Suddenly, Mr. Bartender was being lifted up by the collar of his shirt slammed against the wall with Liam's face inches away from his own, nostrils flaring and angry breaths escaping his mouth.

Damn, that was hot for some reason.

"Cut the shit and listen closely, you pathetic bastard," Liam huffed. "You're a sick, desperate jackass. You don't drug women to get them in your bed, you fucking twat. You charm them. You make it so they have a choice. You don't fucking slip something in their goddamn drink, you fucking sick bastard! That's rape! We don't do that shit here. If you disagree, feel free to carry your ass out the damn door. Without her," he finished, nodding at me.

I stood there like an idiot with my mouth wide open. "Hey," a girl sitting at the poker table said, standing from her previous position and slowly making her way towards me. "You're that girl I met today. Jessie, right?"

I squinted at her, scanning her face for any familiar features. Suddenly, it comes to me. I've seen her before. "Audrey?" I asked in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

She threw me a quirky smile. "Never judge a book by its cover." She turned to look at Mr. Bartender with an unsure look on her face. "You can't hurt her. Not her. She's my friend and I'll..." She swallowed.

Me. Bartender smirked evilly at her. "You'll what? Slap me?"

Audrey hesitated before finally taking notice of the position Mr. Bartender's in, then smiled threateningly. "Slapping sounds nice. Yeah, I'll slap you. I'll slap you in the balls with a cactus and I'll slit your damn throat afterwards, that's what I'll do. Prick. Get out of here," she retorted, seeming disgusted of the sight before her.