Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“I want to tell her I’m sorry,” I mutter, trying a different approach. “She deserves that.”
The last time I spoke to my mom, I screamed at her for loving the Parks more than her own daughter. Told her I was going to live with Dad. I’d wanted her to fight for me. Instead, she looked away and let me walk out that door.
“Do you really think Neena sits around like some pathetic loser wishing for her only daughter to make amends?” He laughs, a vicious glint in his eyes. “She continues to spend Dad’s money so she can live a privileged life, one where she’s free of her bratty kid.”
The truth hurts.
“Please,” I whisper. “I only want to talk to her.”
Begging is more painful than hearing the truth. Pleading with a monster means I’m offering my neck to him—being vulnerable with a man whose teeth are much sharper as an adult.
“She’s gone.” His nostrils flare. “Now you have no reason to ever come back.”
Gone?
Unease roils in my belly. “What do you mean?”
“She took off, leech. Probably fucking her plastic surgeon. How the hell should I know?”
“Where did she go?” I croak out. “Spencer, please, give me something.”
He sneers at me. “Such a needy, needy leech. Always wanting something from us Parks.”
Anger swells up inside me again. I want to shove him and make him fall flat on his ass. Or, maybe I should spit on his handsome face instead.
His eyes flash with something so dark and sinister I barely suppress a shudder. He raises a hand, which makes me flinch. God, I hate him. His long finger points to the road.
“Don’t be a scaredy cat,” he rumbles. “You know I don’t hit little girls.”
Not with his fists.
His tongue, though, is something far more powerful. Each lash of his mean words leaves a bruise that lasts for years to come.
Since he’s still pointing, I follow where his finger is gesturing. To nothing. An empty road. Confused, I turn to ask him what he means.
The door slams in my face.
That’s it.
That’s all I get.
“Asshole!” I yell through the door.
Defeat surges through me and my eyes prickle with tears. I swallow down the emotion, refusing to allow him to get to me. I’m tougher now. His insults and behavior toward me don’t affect me like they used to.
With a huff, I squat to pick up my key, inspecting it once more. His message mocks me. Typical for Spencer Park. Treating everyone, especially me, like we’re beneath him. All the ideas for revenge I’ve had over the years come flooding through me. I had an opportunity and failed to do anything to ruffle his feathers.
I glance over at his shiny car. I don’t know what kind it is, nor do I care. All I know is next time he looks at it, he’ll think of me.
I’m not going away this time.
Not without answers. Not without speaking to Mom. He won’t chase me away.
I grab my suitcase and stalk over to his car. The key in my grip pinks against the metal as I forcefully bump it. Then, I take great satisfaction in the scraping sound as I run it over the paint, gouging a silvery line as I walk, making sure to hit the front panel, door, and back panel. When I reach the trunk, I set the key on top.
I’m not scared of you anymore, Spencer.
With vengeance on my mind, I happily walk down the road, pulling up an Uber on my app along the way. When I reach the end of the street, I sit down on my suitcase, waiting for my ride. Just as the vehicle approaches, I hear Spencer yelling out, “Fucking bitch!”
A crazed giggle escapes me. I’ve just started a war with the devil himself. And, for the first time, I’m not intimidated. He’s just a spoiled, rich shithead. Spencer is nothing like the actual pricks I went to school with when I lived with Dad. He’s all awful, terrible talk. A dog with bark, but no bite.
I climb into the Uber, attempting to reassure myself. My gut feels hollow. Despite my pep talk, I don’t believe it, deep down.
“Where to?” the driver asks.
Fumbling with my phone, I show him the address. The place where I can find the one person who holds power over Spencer. My only ally and someone who can give me real answers.
Hugo Park.
My stepdad.
Spencer
Unbelievable.
Fury, so violent and chaotic, lashes inside of me like a sea storm. My thoughts are thrust back and forth, some of which threaten to flip me overboard altogether.
Breathe, man.
The little girl who used to drive me crazy is back. She’s got some balls, too. A new fire lights up her green eyes, making promises of misery and trouble—which awakens a dormant, dark part of me.
Bring it, little girl.
Oh, she’s brought it. That’s for damn sure.