The Tangle of Awful(8)
Author: K. Webster
He doesn’t flinch at my jab at his OCD. But he does glare at my shorts on the floor like they’ve personally offended him. It pleases me to know I can get to him, even if just a little bit.
“My sock drawer is fine,” he drawls out. “Besides, I have something better to obsess about.”
Oh, if only he used his powers for good instead of evil. The lucky girl on the receiving end of his obsessive nature would be treated like a queen. But, since this is Spencer we’re talking about, he’d rather fixate on torment and cruelty.
And I’m the lucky girl on the receiving end of that.
“You’re different,” Spencer says, intrigue coloring his voice. “It makes me want to know why. How. To uncover all these new parts of you barely hiding beneath the surface.”
The last thing I want is Spencer digging into the person I’ve become in the past two years. As if he needs more ammunition against me.
“Is that all?” I give him a bitchy smile. “This conversation is boring and I’m ready for bed.”
He stares at me for a long beat, unmoving and still like a panther about to pounce. A slow grin curls his lips up and he lets out a dark chuckle. “I guess it’s time to up my game.” He walks past me, bumping his shoulder into mine. “I’ll come up with plenty to keep us both entertained, leech.”
Asshole.
He scoops up my denim shorts and discarded shirt, tossing them into the hamper on his way out. When he reaches the door, he casts another glance over his shoulder, this one roaming over me in an appreciative way that makes my skin burn hot.
Two years ago, I might have swooned under that stare and stupidly hoped I was getting through to him. That we could be lovers, not enemies.
But it’s not two years ago and I’m not that same girl.
His spell won’t work on me anymore. I’m immune. To punctuate that thought, I flip him the bird. “Sweet dreams, big brother.”
He adjusts his dick in his sweats and smirks. “Oh, it’ll be fucking sweet.”
The door closes behind him and I rush over to lock it. I’m no fool. Spencer Park is a snake. He’ll bite when you least expect it, infecting you with his wicked venom.
Unlike when I was sixteen, this time I’ll be ready for him.
This time, I’ll win.
Spencer
The smell of freshly cooked bacon, as I wake, makes my stomach grumble. For half a second, in my head, I’m a kid again, spending the weekend at Dad’s and cooking breakfast with him. Back then, despite my parents divorcing, I’d thought it was kind of cool.
Two houses.
Two bedrooms.
Two parents who took turns buying me whatever I wanted in an effort to distract me from the fact our family had been divided.
I used to love visiting Dad. Our weekends kept us busy with hikes, movies, and shopping trips. Dad always treated me like a man, even when I was little. And Mom was great…until she moved in with that dweeb, Guy Sellers, whom I later learned she cheated on Dad with.
All it took was one time of Guy telling me what to do like he was my damn father for me to lose my shit. I’ve been with Dad ever since.
I groan, unable to stay away from the savory bacon smell any longer. Quickly, I slide out of bed and neatly make it before grabbing a quick shower. As I soap down, I can’t help but think back to last night when Aubrey changed right in fucking front of me. It was so ballsy and my dick perks at the reminder.
She’s not the girl I remember.
It’s like the innocence is gone, replaced by something fiery and passionate. I crave to pluck away at the feathers of her past, learning new things about her.
My slick, soapy hand brushes against my dick that’s now hard as stone. It’s probably fucked-up, but I don’t care. I shamelessly take hold of my throbbing cock and fuck into my fist, pretending it’s my pretty blond, newly tattooed stepsister instead.
I come within seconds like a two-pump chump.
Of fucking course.
Irritated, I rinse off and shut off the shower. Jacking off to the mental image of the girl I hate is a new low. I need to get laid for real, and not by her.
By the time I dress and make it to the kitchen, Aubrey is already up. Her laughter fills the air, reminding me of a time when we didn’t hate each other. Back when she first moved in and I thought it was cool as shit to have a sister. Though I’d never admit it, I’ve always been jealous of Gemma and Dempsey’s relationship. Even Dad loves and enjoys the company of his siblings.
But then everything changed.
And now we’re here.
Aubrey’s smile falters when our eyes connect. I smirk at her as I saunter in, choosing to sit right beside her. Early this morning, she smells like lotion, but it’s different. Cheap. I bristle because I don’t particularly care for this new scent on her.
“Glad you could join us, Son,” Dad says in greeting. “I thought we could have a family meeting.”
Dad sets a plate in front of me. Where Aubrey’s plate is a mess of scrambled, cheesy eggs, bacon and toast crumbs, and jelly globs, my plate has a pile of flat, crispy bacon, perfectly round fried eggs, and a golden piece of toast with a slight sheen of butter over the top. My food doesn’t touch and looks neat. I prefer it that way.
Even though Dad’s sudden domestic air perturbs me, I don’t let it be known. If he wants to pretend we’re a happy little family, then I’ll pretend. Aubrey will discover soon enough there’s nothing happy about this house.
“Aubrey is going to be living with us,” Dad states, shoulders stiffening as if he’s ready for a fight.
I shrug as I pick up my toast. “So?”
Dad deflates, exhaling a sharp breath of air. “And I want you to treat her with respect.”
“Does she deserve respect?” I snort out a laugh and cut my eyes her way. “Do you, leech?”
Her green eyes flash with a barely contained emotion—equal parts shame and fury.
What are you hiding, little sis?
“Spencer!” Dad growls. “Enough. If you can’t follow the goddamn rules, you can get out.” He points toward the front door, emphasizing his words. “I won’t allow it this time.”