(Rihanna)His hold on my wrist tightened even further and it hurts.I winced, struggling to break free from his grip, but I couldn't.I snapped. “Let go of me!” I drawled, my voice a mix of anger and frustration.But he ignored me, dragging me along with him. My legs are too wobbly, I had too much to drink, and I could barely keep up with his pace.My voice is a little soft as I say. “You're hurting me, Calvin,”And only then, did he actually stop, turning to face me, I see his eyes move to my wrist where he's holding, a soft massage follows.Just when I thought he would finally let go of me, he inches closer, taking me in with one swift glance. “It’ll hurt less if you stop protesting,” he deadpan, his jaw set in a way that tells me he's angry.But why?That thought didn't linger as he started pulling me to his car.“Get in,” he spat as he opened the car door and I knew it wasn't a request, it was an order.I didn't see Joel in the car, which only means he drove here himself. How did
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