After Midnight (a.i.)

57

Cara's POV

I didn't know it'd be this hard to find a damn pack of cigarettes. I also didn't know Ashton needed this many papers tucked away in his glovebox.

Bent over the passenger seat, I continue my scavenger hunt in the compartment. The alcohol in my system mixed with the dark of night wasn't helping my vision, but I was craving some nicotine and god dammit, I'm determined to get some.

My prayers have been answered when I finally spot that white and red box, hidden deep inside the glovebox for absolutely no reason. I snatch it out and dig around in the cupholders for the lighter. Eventually, I find it and grab that as well.

"Nice view." I hear behind me, my hazy hearing offering little coherence. My eyebrows furrow.

I straighten myself out once I hop out of the car and before I even get into this conversation, I stick a cigarette in my lip and hastily flick the lighter.

By the time I turn around, my cigarette is lit and my stomach twists once I realize who's calling after me.

"The fuck do you want?" My eyebrows lower as I speak through my cigarette. The copious amount of liquor buzzing in my body gave me a boost of confidence I definitely needed for this.

When I lock onto those familiar blue eyes I almost laugh. There's not an ounce of fear inside of me, no urge to run, no fight or flight instincts prickling at the back of my neck. Ashton's words ring through my head.

You have the power.

"Just wanted to say hi." Matty shrugs his shoulders, hands stuck in his khaki pockets while he makes his way toward me. My stomach sinks when he's a few steps away, but I ignore it and stand my ground.

"Hi. Now fuck off." I tell him, not bothering to sugar coat things. I have zero interest in dealing with him right now. In general, actually. I want nothing to do with him.

"Someone's had a few drinks." Matty plays his comment as a joke, but the judgement shaking in his eyes was clear as day. Just like his bitter mother. "How are you?"

I can't help the laughter that bursts from my mouth.

"I was doing good, but you ruined that. As usual." I take a puff from my cigarette and flick the ash, standing strong and not faltering under his condescending stare. I'm not running anymore. I refuse to. After everything he's put me through, it's my turn to stand up and fight.

Matty pulls his lip between his teeth and his brows lower with disappointment as he eyes me, his gaze lingering a little too long on my chest before his eyes are back on mine.

"Does your mom know you smoke?" He asks me with another step, voice quiet like he was keeping a secret. My eyes roll and I feel the rage burn in the back of my throat.

"What the fuck do you want, Matt?" My patience is already worn from his instigating. It's sad to see he's still using those same tactics, trying to make me feel bad and break me down so he can be the hero that picks up the pieces. He loved a good guilt trip, glad to see he thinks that still works on me.

"I miss you, Carrie." Matty sighs, eyes narrow to convey his bullshit honesty. Immediately I cringe at the nickname.

"Don't fucking call me that." I snap at him, my fist shaking at my side with frustration. Everything in me wants to pounce and hurt him the way he's hurt me. Make him feel every bit of pain he's put me through in the past.