Chapter 4 BROKEN NIGHT.

The music in the club was low and slow, the kind that vibrated through the floor instead of screaming through the speakers.

Soft lights flickered across the crowded room, red and blue shadows moving across bodies that swayed, laughed, and drank like the night belonged to them.

None of them knew my world had just collapsed.

I sat alone at the bar, elbows resting on the polished wood, staring into the glass in front of me.

Tequila.

My third.

Or fourth.

I wasn't sure anymore.

The burn slid down my throat like liquid fire, but it still wasn't strong enough to drown the humiliation clawing inside my chest.

Tessan's voice echoed in my head.

"Nina, don't do this."

"Drinking won't fix anything."

"Let's just go back to the dorm."

I ignored every single word she said.

Because the only thing louder than her voice was the memory of Jason's.

"Veronica's my girlfriend now."

My fingers tightened around the glass.

"Another," I muttered.

The bartender barely looked at me before pouring another shot.

The glass slid across the counter.

I lifted it immediately.

The alcohol burned worse this time, but I welcomed the pain.

Pain meant I could feel something other than humiliation.

Around me, people laughed.

Someone cheered near the dance floor.

A group of girls stumbled past the bar giggling like idiots.

My stomach twisted.

They probably knew.

Everyone probably knew.

Ridgewood High wasn't exactly famous for keeping secrets.

Especially when those secrets involved the captain of the opponent rugby team, his new cheerleader girlfriend, and the girl he dumped like trash.

My chest tightened.

I slammed the empty glass onto the counter.

"Another."

The bartender raised an eyebrow.

"Rough night?"

"Just pour the damn drink."

He shrugged and filled the glass again.

I grabbed it before he could finish sliding it across the counter.

The tequila burned again.

My eyes watered slightly.

Still not enough.

Not nearly enough.

I dropped my head forward, pressing my forehead against the cool surface of the bar.

For a moment, I closed my eyes.

The music blurred.

The voices blended together.

Everything felt distant.

Like I was underwater.

Then a familiar voice broke through the noise.

"Didn't take you for the club type."

My eyes snapped open.

I didn't have to look to know who it was.

Dave Walker.

Of course.

Because apparently the universe hated me tonight.

I turned slowly.

He stood a few feet away, leaning against the bar like he owned the place.

A cigarette hung loosely between his fingers, smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling.

His black jacket was unzipped, revealing the ink crawling across his collarbone and neck.

Wolf tattoos.

Sharp lines.

Dark shadows.

His jawline was as sharp as ever, his expression bored and cold.

Like this entire situation amused him.

My stomach twisted again.

Of all the people in this city.

Of all the places in this club.

He had to end up here.

I looked away.

"Go away, Walker."

He didn't move.

Instead, he took a slow drag from the cigarette.

The orange tip glowed in the dim light.

Smoke drifted from his lips as he exhaled.

"You know," he said casually, "most people cry at home."

My fingers curled around the edge of the bar.

"I'm not crying."

"Sure you're not."

I glared at him.

"Why are you even here?"

Dave shrugged slightly.

"Same reason everyone else is."

Another drag.

Another cloud of smoke.

Then his eyes slid toward the empty glasses in front of me.

"Except I'm not trying to drink myself into a coma."

My temper snapped.

"Mind your own damn business."

He chuckled quietly.

The sound was low.

Mocking.

"Oh, trust me," he said. "I was."

His eyes met mine again.

"But then I saw you."

Something dark flickered in his gaze.

"Hard to ignore a train wreck."

My nails dug into my palm.

"You're an asshole."

"Been called worse."

I reached for the next tequila shot.

Before I could drink it, Dave suddenly moved.

His hand shot forward and grabbed the glass.

The motion was so fast I barely saw it.

My eyes widened.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He lifted the glass, studying the clear liquid inside.

"You've had enough."

Anger exploded in my chest.

"Give it back."

"No."

"Walker."

"No."

I slammed my hand against the bar.

"Give me my drink!"

His gaze hardened slightly.

For a moment, the joking expression disappeared.

"You're already drunk."

"Good."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I didn't ask for one."

I reached for the glass again.

He pulled it away easily.

My frustration spiked.

"You don't get to control what I drink!"

Dave leaned closer slightly.

The scent of smoke and something darker surrounded him.

"I also don't want to deal with a drunk cheerleader puk

My eyes narrowed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I snapped. "Did my existence ruin your night?"

He smirked.

"A little."

Hatred surged through me.

"You know what your problem is, Walker?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Enlighten me."

"You think you're better than everyone else."

Another slow drag from the cigarette.

Smoke curled around his face.

"Not everyone."

His gaze locked onto mine.

"Just humans."

The word hit harder than it should have.

I frowned.

"What does that even mean?"

Dave shrugged again.

"Nothing you need to worry about."

His voice was flat.

Dismissive.

That only made me angrier.

"Oh, I get it," I said bitterly.

"You're one of those guys who thinks every girl is stupid."

"Not every girl."

"Let me guess," I continued, ignoring him.

"You hate girls because one of them dumped you."

A muscle in his jaw tightened.

It was small.

Almost invisible.

But I noticed it.

Interesting.

I leaned closer.

"Or maybe she cheated on you."

His eyes darkened slightly.

"Careful."

"Why?" I snapped. "Did I hit a nerve?"

For a moment, he didn't answer.

He just watched me.

The silence stretched between us.

Then he flicked the cigarette into a nearby ashtray.

"You don't want to know why."

My lips curled.

"Oh please."

"Trust me."

His voice dropped lower.

"You really don't."

I laughed bitterly.

"Right. Because you're so mysterious."

Dave leaned back slightly.

His expression returned to its usual cold sarcasm.

"Something like that."

I grabbed the tequila glass from his distracted hand and threw the drink back.

The burn hit instantly.

Dave sighed.

"You're impossible."

"Good."

I slammed the glass down again.

"Now leave me alone."

He studied me for a moment.

Then his gaze drifted across the bar.

People laughed.

Music pulsed.

Life moved on like my world hadn't just shattered.

When he looked back at me, something strange flickered across his face.

Something almost thoughtful.

Then it disappeared.

"You know," he said quietly, "he's not worth it."

My chest tightened.

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"You didn't have to."

His voice remained calm.

Annoyingly calm.

I looked away.

My vision blurred slightly.

Not from alcohol.

From anger.

And humiliation.

"Just leave," I muttered.

For a moment, I thought he would.

Instead, Dave pulled out the stool beside mine and sat down.

I turned toward him sharply.

"What are you doing?"

He shrugged again.

"Making sure you don't pass out."

My jaw dropped slightly.

"I don't need a babysitter."

"No."

He leaned back against the bar.

"But apparently you need a witness."

My eyes narrowed.

"A witness for what?"

His smirk returned.

"For when you inevitably do something stupid tonight."

My hands clenched again.

God.

I hated him.

I hated his stupid calm voice.

His stupid smirk.

His stupid face.

And the worst part?

He looked completely unaffected by everything.

While I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest.

I grabbed the tequila bottle sitting on the counter.

Dave sighed again.

"Here we go."

"Shut up."

I poured another shot.

He didn't try to stop me this time.

He just watched.

Quietly.

Lke he was studying me.

Which somehow made everything worse.

Because for the first time that night..

I realized something.

Dave Walker wasn't laughing anymore.

He was just watching.

And somehow that felt far more dangerous

The bar suddenly felt like it was tilting.

I blinked slowly, trying to steady my vision, but the lights kept stretching into long blurry streaks.

The music thumped through my skull like a hammer.

Dave was still beside me.

Watching.

Always watching.

I pushed myself off the stool.

Bad decision.

The floor moved.

My balance slipped and my shoulder slammed lightly into the counter.

Dave caught my arm before I completely tipped over.

"Easy," he muttered.

I jerked away from him.

"Don't touch me."

He sighed like I was the most exhausting thing in the room.

"You're about two seconds away from face-planting on the floor."

"I'm perfectly"

The word never finished.

My knees buckled.

The room spun violently.

Strong hands grabbed my shoulders before I collapsed.

Dave's voice was flat beside my ear.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Perfectly fine."

I groaned.

"Shut up."

My mascara had definitely run by now. I could feel it.

Tears, alcohol, and sweat had turned it into a sticky mess under my eyes.

My hair felt tangled and rough from running my fingers through it all night.

I probably looked insane.

I tried to stand straight again.

It didn't work.

Dave shook his head slowly.

"I told you."

"Shut up."

"I told you you'd pass out."

"I didn't"

My sentence dissolved into another dizzy sway.

Dave grabbed my wrist.

"Alright."

His tone changed slightly.

More serious now.

"We're leaving."

I yanked my arm back weakly.

"Leave me alone."

Too late.

He was already pulling me toward the exit.

The cold night air hit my face the moment the door opened.

I stumbled again.

"Walker," I slurred angrily, trying to dig my heels into the pavement.

"Stop dragging me!"

He didn't even look back.

"Watch your step."

"I said let go!"

"No."

"I hate you!"

"Noted."

The parking lot lights blurred above me.

Dave walked fast.

Too fast.

I stumbled behind him, half dragged across the asphalt.

"Walker!" I snapped again.

"Leave me alone!"

My voice cracked.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, smearing the wet mascara even more.

My eyes felt swollen from crying.

My head hurt.

Everything hurt.

Dave stopped beside a black car and pulled the passenger door open.

"Get in."

"No."

He stared at me.

"You can either sit down," he said flatly, "or fall down."

I glared at him.

Then I tried to walk away.

My foot caught the curb.

My body lurched forward.

Dave caught me again before I smashed into the pavement.

"Congratulations," he said dryly. "You picked option three."

Before I could argue again, he shoved me gently into the passenger seat.

I groaned loudly.

"Kidnapping is illegal."

"Good thing I'm not kidnapping you."

The door slammed shut.

A moment later he climbed into the driver's seat.

The engine started.

The quiet hum of the car replaced the loud chaos of the club.

For a few seconds neither of us spoke.

Then the words started spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"My life is over."

Dave gripped the steering wheel.

"You're just eighteen."

"Exactly."

I groaned and dropped my head back against the seat.

"I used to live with that dumb asshole."

My voice cracked.

"That dumb asshole called Jason."

Dave said nothing.

"Now I'm homeless."

Still silence.

I stared at the ceiling of the car.

"My mom is going to be so disappointed in me."

My voice grew softer.

"Like... really disappointed."

Dave glanced sideways at me briefly.

I kept talking.

"She's going to say she raised a daughter who got drunk in some midnight club."

My throat tightened.

"She's going to say she trusted me."

My voice broke slightly.

"And now look at me."

I wiped my face again, smearing the mascara further across my cheeks.

"This is so embarrassing."

The car stopped at a red light.

Dave exhaled slowly.

"Are you done?"

I turned toward him suddenly.

"Why are you even doing this?"

His eyes flicked toward me briefly.

"What?"

"Why are you helping me?"

I pointed at him weakly.

"You hate humans."

He didn't respond.

"So why?" I pressed.

"Why drag me out of that bar?"

He looked back at the road.

His voice stayed cold.

"To protect the team."

I blinked.

"What?"

His tone turned blunt.

"I don't need a scandal going viral tomorrow."

My eyebrows furrowed.

"Scandal?"

"Yes."

He changed lanes calmly.

"'Ridgewood cheerleader found drunk at midnight club.'"

His voice carried a mocking tone.

"That headline wouldn't be great for the rugby team."

Realization slowly sank in

"Oh."

I slumped deeper into the seat.

"So you're not helping me."

"No."

"You're protecting your reputation."

"And the team's."

I nodded slowly.

"I guess that makes sense."

The car stayed quiet again.

Then I looked at him again.

"You're still an asshole."

Dave smirked faintly.

"I've heard."

I folded my arms and stared out the window.

"Just drop me somewhere."

"Where?"

My mouth opened.

Then closed.

Because the truth hit me all over again.

I had nowhere to go.

The silence stretched inside the car.

Dave glanced at me briefly.

His smirk faded.

And for the first time that night...

He looked slightly less amused.

The car stopped with a rough jerk.

My head was spinning so badly that the world tilted when the door opened.

Cold air slapped my face.

Dave stepped out first, walking around the car with the same lazy confidence that made me want to punch him.

He opened my door and grabbed my arm.

"Watch your step, drunk slut."

I jerked my arm away instantly.

"Who the hell are you calling a slut, asshole?"

My words slurred together, my tongue heavy from the alcohol, but the anger was very real.

I tried stepping out of the car myself.

Big mistake.

My legs felt like jelly.

The moment my feet touched the ground, my knees buckled.

The pavement rushed toward me.

Dave caught my arm before I could fall flat on my face.

He sighed in annoyance.

"Unbelievable."

"Let go of me," I snapped, trying to pull away again.

"You can't even stand," he said coldly.

"I can stand!"

I tried again.Two steps.

Then the world tilted.

Again.

My heel twisted and I nearly collapsed.

Dave grabbed my arm again, this time tighter.

"If you fall and crack your skull open," he muttered, "don't bleed on my shoes."

I glared up at him.

Even drunk, I could still see how irritatingly perfect his face looked under the dim streetlight.

Sharp jawline.

ark hair slightly messy.

That stupid smirk sitting on his lips like the world was his personal comedy show.

I hated that smirk.

"Why are you even here?" I snapped. "Did you follow me?"

Dave leaned casually against the car door, lighting a cigarette like this entire situation bored him.

Smoke curled into the cold night air.

"Relax," he said flatly. "You're not interesting enough to stalk."

"Then why are you helping me?"He took a slow drag from the cigarette.

His eyes were dark.

Cold.

"Damage control."

I frowned.

"What?"

He blew the smoke away from my face.

"If Ridgewood High's precious cheerleader gets drunk and passes out in a club," he said calmly, "that scandal hits the school tomorrow morning."

I blinked slowly, trying to process his words through the fog in my head.

"So?"

"So," he continued, flicking ash to the ground, "I don't feel like dealing with reporters or disciplinary meetings because you decided to drown your pathetic love life in tequila."

My chest tightened with anger.

"Oh my God."

I shoved his shoulder weakly.

"You didn't help me because you care."

Dave raised an eyebrow.

"That was never part of the deal."

I stumbled forward toward him.

My vision blurred then everything went black.

My head felt like someone had stuffed it with bricks and shaken it violently all night...

************

I groaned and buried my face deeper into the pillow.

Why did it smell so... good?

Fresh.

Clean.

Not like my room.

My eyes slowly opened.

White ceiling.

Minimalist furniture.

A large unfamiliar window letting sunlight spill across the bed.

My brain lagged for several seconds before the panic kicked in.

"What the hell..."

I pushed myself up, clutching my head as a sharp wave of dizziness hit me.

"This is not my room.? And why do I smell like alcohol...."

The bed was huge.

The sheets were expensive.

And the room definitely did not belong to me.

"What the fuck am I doing here?"

Before I could even stand up properly, the door suddenly swung open.

Dave stood there.

Arms folded.

Looking annoyingly awake.

His dark eyes dragged over me like he was inspecting a problem he hadn't asked for.

"Oh look," he said dryly. "The pig finally woke up."

I squinted at him through the pounding headache.

"What the hell are you doing in my room?"

Dave's eyebrow lifted slowly.

"Your room?"

He leaned against the doorframe.

"This is my house."

My brain froze.

My heart skipped.

"...What?"

Dave exhaled like he already regretted this entire morning.

"You passed out last night."

Fragments of memory flickered.

The club.

The music.

Jason.

Tequila.

Then nothing.

"You dragged me here?" I asked.

"Carried you," Dave corrected.

My jaw dropped.

"You what?"

"You couldn't walk."

"Asshole!"

I threw the pillow at him.

"Get the fuck out of my room!"

Dave didn't even move when the pillow hit him.

"This isn't your room."

"Then get out anyway!"

He rolled his eyes.

"Relax. The party's over."

"What party?"

"The one you tried to die at."

I glared at him.

"Dick head."

Dave sighed.

"You need to leave."

"I just woke up!"

"You've been asleep for ten hours."

"Ten?" "

My eyes widened.

"Oh my God."

I jumped out of the bed too fast.

Instant regret.

The room spun violently.

I grabbed the edge of the bed to steady myself.

Dave watched with mild amusement.

"Careful," he muttered. "Wouldn't want you passing out again."

I flipped him off weakly.

"Shut up."

My nose twitched.

The room smelled... nice.

Fresh soap.

Laundry.

Clean air.

Not like my messy apartment.

I slowly looked down at myself.

My clothes from last night were still on.

Thank God.

Dave noticed the look on my face.

"You're welcome."

"For what?"

"For not letting you sleep in a club bathroom."

I rolled my eyes.

"Don't act like you did me a favor."

Dave shrugged.

"Next time I'll leave you there."

"Please do."

He stepped aside and pointed down the hallway.

"Bathroom's there."

I narrowed my eyes.

"You spying on me?"

"Trust me," he said flatly. "Not interested."

"Good."

"Great."

I grabbed a towel and stormed into the bathroom.

The shower helped a little.

Hot water pounded against my skull while my brain slowly came back online.

Last night was still mostly a blur.

But one thing was crystal clear.

Jason.

The breakup.

The humiliation.

I clenched my fists.

By the time I stepped out twenty minutes later, my phone finally turned on.

The screen exploded with notifications.

My stomach dropped.

16 missed calls - MOM💗

"Oh my God."

I nearly dropped the phone.

"I'm so doomed."

Mom was going to kill me.

Or worse.

Lecture me.

I shoved the phone into my pocket and walked downstairs after dressing up.

The moment I stepped into the living room, the rugby team spotted me.

Atlas leaned back on the couch and grinned.

"Well, well."

"Sleeping Beauty finally emerged."

Mason laughed.

"Guys, can you believe this?"

"Captain brought home a cheerleader."

Dave looked like he wanted to disappear.

"Shut up."

Ryder nudged him.

"You're blushing."

"I'm not."

Atlas pointed dramatically.

"He's blushing."

"I will break your nose."

They all laughed.

I rolled my eyes.

"You're all idiots."

Atlas clutched his chest.

"Wow."

"She speaks."

"Savage," Blaze added.

Dave grabbed his car keys and tossed them in the air once.

"Let's go."

"Where?" I asked.

"I'm dropping you off."

"Finally."

Later That Morning

Tessan opened the door the second I knocked.

Her eyes widened instantly.

"Oh my God."

"Where have you been?"

I pushed past her into the apartment.

"Don't start."

"Girl, I called you like fifty times!"

"I know."

"I thought you were kidnapped!"

"I wish."

Tessa crossed her arms.

"Spill."

I dropped onto the couch dramatically.

"I woke up in the rugby pack house."

Her jaw dropped.

"You WHAT?"

"I don't even know what happened."

"Dave's house?" she gasped.

"Yes."

"How?!"

"I don't remember!"

Tessa stared at me like I had just announced I'd joined the mafia.

"You're so lucky I'm here."

"Yeah," I groaned. "I know."

My phone buzzed again.

MOM💗

I ignored it.

Right now I had bigger problems.

Jason.

"I need to move out," I muttered.

Tessa nodded immediately.

"Good."

"Very good."

"I already posted something."

She blinked.

"You what?"

I grabbed my phone and opened the school board page.

My new post stared back at me.

Apartment Needed Urgent

Tessan smiled.

"See? Problem solved."

"Hopefully."

"You'll get a place today."

I stood up.

"First I need to pack my stuff."

***************

Jason's house still smelt the same, the floral scent hung the atmosphere as the memories flashed through my mind. Those days he loved me without any exceptions.

Jason opened the door looking irritated.

"What do you want?"

I walked straight past him trying to avoid much eye contact

"I came to pack."

He scoffed.

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Finally realized you can't live without me?"

I turned slowly .

My patience snapped , my heart still wanted to believe that all this was a dream.

"You're absolutely a dickhead!."

Jason's eyes narrowed.

"Watch your mouth."

"You cheated on me, you son of a bitch!!"

"You embarrassed me."

"And now you're acting like I'm the problem?"

Jason leaned against the wall smugly.

"You're overreacting."

I grabbed my suitcase and started stuffing clothes into it as anger mixed with regret flooded my heart

"Get your dog out of my way," I muttered when his ugly little bulldog barked at me.

Jason laughed.

"You're unbelievable."

"Yeah," I snapped.

"I know."

I zipped the suitcase hard.

"I thought I was escaping you."

Jason crossed his arms.

"You'll come back."

I stared at him like he was insane.

"Not in this lifetime Jason."

Then I walked out.