The Tangle of Awful(2)
Author: K. Webster

 

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.

 

Scrubbing my palm down over my face, I peek through my fingers, hoping the hideous gouge in my sleek, midnight-black BMW 8 Series will miraculously be gone.

 

Nope.

 

Still. Fucking. There.

 

I can’t believe she keyed my car. If she hadn’t left her evidence on the trunk, I wouldn’t have believed Aubrey even had it in her.

 

She’s a princess.

 

Fragile, delicate, weak.

 

Not vindictive. That’s more her mother.

 

Apparently, she’s changed, which means I’m dealing with a whole new enemy here. And while I’ve always been able to outsmart her, she’s persistent. That is, until she reaches her breaking point. Two years ago, I pushed her to that point, happily not having to speak to her until now.

 

Based on the fiery indignation I was met with moments ago and the fact she keyed my car, I think it’s safe to assume she’s far from running back home with her tail tucked between her legs.

 

Time to up my game.

 

I take a few pictures of my car before sending them to my grandfather. Nathan Park is the powerful, throbbing vein that connects the Park family. Our influence over this town is solely because of him. His own father, though still a force, didn’t compare to how my pops rules Park Mountain, Washington.

 

We are kings and everyone else exists to serve us in some capacity.

 

Pops: Someone vandalized your car?

 

Me: Yup.

 

Pops: At home? Did you pull the camera footage?

 

I could easily tattle to him that it was my bratty stepsister, but that would take all the fun out of making her pay for what she did.

 

Me: Bad connection. Wi-Fi wasn’t working. It’s fixed now, but I can’t drive around with my car looking like shit, Pops.

 

Pops: I know a guy. Let me give him a call.

 

When Pops says he “knows a guy,” it means someone owes him and he’s ready to cash in. The long, ugly gouge in the paint of my car will be erased from existence within a few days. There are many, many perks to being a Park.

 

Satisfied that Pops will take care of it, I shove my phone in my pocket and stalk across the yard to his house. My gaze scans Park Mountain Lane, but Aubrey is long gone. I’m not sure where she went, nor do I care. All I do know is she’ll be back, and when she returns, I’ll be ready for her. Today, she got the element of surprise. Starting tomorrow, I’ll be doing all the surprising.

 

Dempsey, technically my uncle, but who feels more like a cousin, is home. He’s more than just family or a neighbor, he’s my best friend. Though we couldn’t be more different, we get each other like no one else does. Both him and his twin sister, Gemma, are some of the few people I actually trust.