“Don’t test me,” I clipped. “It’s Saturday night, Denver,” she stated, as if that was reason enough to be hammered and driving. “Don’t give a shit what day it is, Cathy. Jigs will drive you home.” “I hate you,” she spat at me. I closed the space in between us, glaring down at her, venom sinking into my blood. “Good, bitch. I fucking hate you, too.”
