Anne threw open the car door and shoved Eric into the passenger seat. She was behind the wheel before she even realized it despite the fact that she could barely drive. Every pothole, every bump, she hit like she was gunning for them, and Eric cursed loudly with every jolt.
"Watch it! Watch it! You're gonna kill us before we even get home!" he snapped, one hand pressed hard against the bleeding cut on his arm.
"Calm down!" Anne barked back, squinting at the blurry road ahead. "You should be grateful I'm even driving at all! Would you rather bleed out back there?"
"And why are we bleeding in the first place, huh?" Eric shot back, voice sharp with rage. "I told you not to go to that damn club! You just had to disobey."
Anne's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. The guilt burned under her ribs, but her pride was louder. "I have a first aid kit at home. You'll live. Or should we just head to the hospital?"
