Aubrey
There’s only one person in the entire world I hate.
Spencer Park.
He’s vile. A monster. Awful.
I vowed two years ago I’d never look at or speak to him again. It was a promise I’d been able to keep until recently.
And, because of my mother, I’m once again going to be subjected to the misery he creates. This time, not because I’m being forced to but by choice.
I’m choosing this for myself.
I don’t suddenly like Spencer. Far from it. I just know something is going on with Mom and I will get to the bottom of it.
“Here?” the Uber driver asks as he slows to a stop in front of the massive structure I once called home.
“This is it,” I say with a shaky sigh. “Thanks.”
I climb out, pull on my backpack, and grab my overstuffed suitcase before slamming the car door shut. The home looms over me, cold and mocking. Every single detail of this house screams money. From the perfectly trimmed hedges and yard to the shiny black luxury vehicle in the driveway.
And then there’s me.
The leech.
At least, that’s what he took to calling me seemingly out of the blue. One day, we were friends and the next, everything was ruined.
Old memories of Spencer’s cruelty simmer to the surface of my mind, but I don’t let them consume me. I’m no longer the sixteen-year-old girl I once was. I’ve changed. I’m stronger, smarter, and a freaking adult. Spencer Park holds no power over me.
I’m back now and I refuse to let him get to me.
Slowly, I wheel my dented suitcase up the front walkway toward the pristine charcoal gray door that will welcome me into a cold hell. My hands slightly shake as I reach it. Since Spencer used to always steal my house key, I kept one hidden outside. Leaving my suitcase, I walk over to the gutter spout at the corner of the house. I crouch in front of it and lift the biggest of the smooth stones on the ground in front of it.
The key is there.
My stomach twists.
It’s all wrong. The metal teeth no longer sharp and jagged. It’s as if it’s been melted smooth. Words have been carved into the metal.
Not welcome, leech.
I curl the useless key into my palm and rise to my feet. He may have intimidated me two years ago, but I’m no longer that girl. I’ve been living in Los Angeles with Dad ever since I left, going to school with a whole bunch of assholes rather than just one. I’ve learned how to survive.
With newfound fury burning up inside of me, I storm back over to the front door. Of course, when I try the knob, it’s locked. I beat my fist on the solid door, anger churning in my gut.
No answer.
I glare up at the camera pointed at the stoop and flip it off. If I know Spencer, I know he always has to have the last word.
As predicted, the snap of the deadbolt unengaging echoes its way through my bones. Gritting my teeth together, I lift my chin, preparing to face off with my enemy. The door swings open and his familiar scent—expensive cologne he’s worn probably since birth—swirls around me.
Spencer steps out. Taller than I remember. Stronger, too. Every single part of him perfect as usual. His dark hair is styled a little differently—less boyish and something more manly. The eyes, though, bright blue and intelligent, are icier than ever. Two windows into an arctic hellish soul. It’s his mouth that sends a chill down my spine. A cruel slant of a smile, probably charming to most, but sinister to those who truly know him.
“Hello, brother,” I say in a tone dripping with acid. “Seems my key stopped working.”
I toss the key onto the cement and it clatters between us.
His dark eyebrow lifts, unimpressed with my attitude toward him. Newsflash, buddy, I’m not that girl you ran off once before. He doesn’t answer, instead perusing his gaze up and down my body, lingering on my chest. Since the material of my shirt is thin, I know he can see through it, judging my old black Walmart bra and nipples that are hard from the coldness rippling from the open front door where the icy asshole looms.
“You don’t live here anymore, leech.”
I refuse to shudder at the name, choosing to glower at him instead. “Where’s Mom?”
His blue eyes narrow, hard gaze boring into me. “How the fuck should I know?”
“I want to talk to her,” I snip. “Now.”
He smirks at me. “Still a bossy princess. Go back home to your daddy. You’re no longer welcome here.” He fists his hand and pretends to wipe a tear from his cheek. “Mommy doesn’t love you anymore.”
His words are a spike in my heart. How he always manages to find my weakness is a surprise to me. I give him nothing, but he peels back my insecurities without me ever muttering a word. Two years and he’s exactly the same. Still lording his power over me.
“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.”