Wrong Car, Right Guy - Page 6

“I didn’t do anything!” the guy snaps back at Tate, his eyes full of fury. “Let go of me, you psycho.”

“So now you’re calling this woman a liar as well? Why would she lie? Why would she run out of the bar to escape you, crying, and then get in the wrong car just to get away from you? Explain that,” Tate snarls. He shakes his head in disgust. “So not only are you a bully who targets young women, but you’re also a liar as well.”

“Okay, okay, so I teased her a bit!” the man cries out, looking anxious now as Tate gets up in his face. “But she should learn to take a joke, man! She’s just looking for a reason to be upset.”

“Don’t tell her how she should feel,” Tate growls. “You’re the one that ruined her night. You’re the one that drove her out of the bar and into my car. And now, you’re going to face up to what you’ve done.”

“Don’t hit me, please,” the man whimpers.

A slow, dark smile spreads across Tate’s face.

“Feeling intimidated now, are you? Don’t like how it feels when the tables are turned, huh?” Tate shakes his head in disgust at the man. “You’re the worst kind of man. You try to dominate women, make them squirm, make them uncomfortable around you…and then you won’t even face up to what you’ve done when someone calls you on it. You’re disgusting. Lower than dirt.”

I can’t believe I’m watching this. I’ve never had anyone stand up for me before or defend me like this, but this stranger is really going out of his way to make this guy pay for what he did. It makes me feel special. Like for once in my life, I actually matter.

“I’m sorry,” the man snivels, trying to pull away from Tate. “I’m sorry.”

Tate cocks his head to the side. “Sorry about what you did? Or sorry that you got caught.”

“Both! I…I mean, the first one!”

Tate shakes his head in disbelief. I wonder what he’s capable of doing next. He seems so strong, so much taller and broader than the man he’s holding with just one fist around his shirt. He’s clearly smarter too, he thinks things through. But did he come out here to make the guy pay with his fists or with his words? I guess I’m going to find out.

“I don’t believe you’re sorry in the slightest,” Tate snarls. “And I feel capable of anything right now. But I don’t want to cause a scene in front of this young woman. So you’re going to apologize to her this time, and you’re going to do it properly. I’m not letting you go until she gets the apology she deserves. So it better be a good one.”

I feel myself breathe a sigh of relief. I can see that Tate’s fists are ready to give this man a pounding if necessary, but I don’t want to see any bloodshed today. I’m not a violent person, and I hate the sight of blood. So I stare at the guy and wait, hoping he’ll do the right thing and just give me the apology that I’m owed.

But this guy is still looking at me like I’m a piece of dirt. I know he sees me, sees my curves, and he’s disgusted. It makes me deflate inside. Not because I need his approval, or even want it, but because I know so many people feel the same way about me. In fact, it feels like the only person who doesn’t is the man protecting me.

“It’s okay, really. We should go…” I try telling Tate.

“No,” Tate growls. “A grown man should be able to apologize when he’s wrong. You didn’t deserve the way he treated you. How hard can an apology be?”

“Impossible when you’re asking a person who won’t change,” I murmur. But Tate is insistent. It’s like he cares more about this than I do, even though he could’ve easily just walked away. But how can I complain? He’s my knight in shining armor. He’s been here for me tonight more than even my best friend. It makes me feel seen. Like I matter.

“Say you’re sorry or I’ll beat your ass into the ground,” Tate grits out. He’s not playing around anymore, and the man knows it. I watch the panic in his eyes as he fumbles for words, refusing to look at me directly. It’s clearly too hard for him to look at me and take me seriously. I feel a pang in my chest at the thought this man clearly thinks I don’t deserve an apology.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I was rude to you in the bar,” he insists.

Tate’s grip on him loosens a little, but he’s still got a hold of him.

“And?”

“And…and I won’t treat anyone that way again.”

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