Ian raced back to the Rover, speeding off like a bat out of hell.
"Ian, just give them what they want!" Lauren cried. They'd been chased, shot at, she had a semi- serious arm wound. "Why didn't you just give them the money!" She yelled angrily.
"Lauren, JUST SHUT UP!" He yelled back driving erratically through the Irish countryside at over 80 miles an hour.
"Ian—"
"I had to hide it, for leverage! It's the only way I could get you back from those bastards! Don't you get it?" He said.
Lauren looked at him bitterly. "No, because I don't think like a fucking Criminal that's why."
Suddenly the car slammed on its brakes and she was flung into the dashboard, and his hands were grabbing her hair roughly.
"Listen here Bitch, I've done a lot of shit I'm not proud of but you and I? We're not that different… So watch your fucking mouth, before I throw you out of this fucking car and those Bastards behind us can have you. Got me?" His hands twisted in her hair, causing her to gasp in pain.
"How many times did I tell you NOT to deal with those Bulgarian tweakers, huh?" He asked. "You could have died, Lauren."
She nodded, looking at him begging him silently to let go. Her wish was granted, and his mouth was on hers, kissing her roughly, passionately. She moaned as he let go and started driving again. Once more they sped off into the Irish sunset.
Just another day in the life of Ian Doyle and Lauren Reynolds.