Read Crush on Mr. Bad Boy by Lilly Purdon (33) Page 33 Online novels for free

Chapter 33 REVENGE IS BEST SERVED SWEET [PART 1]

If only looks could kill...
She was glaring so hard at the door, I almost felt sorry for it. Oh god, I was really becoming soft. Caring for a door? I was adapting her manners and thoughts

She locked the door and slammed her fists into the door over and over again. Though she couldn’t really punch, she beat the door until she slightly cracked the wood. I didn’t want to interfere. She needed to let her anger out.

“Why her?!” she screamed at the door, but I knew it was directed at Jaxon.

“Out of ever filthy whore on the surface of the Earth, why her?!” she walked passed me and grabbed a lamp off of a stand next to me. She smashed it against the door with full force. Still, I wasn't planning on stopping her anytime soon.

Even if she decided to burn down the damn house, I wouldn't stop her. Well, that was a bit extreme… But sometimes people have to take all their anger out on something or someone to feel better. A little harmless violence wouldn’t hurt.

“Why her?!” she grabbed a picture frame of her dad and slutty Cleo from the stand beside me and smashed it against to door, causing glass to shatter all over the place. “I’ve been hurt, manipulated, and trapped!” she screamed on the top of her lungs, “I’m sick of it!”

I thought that was the end of her tantrum, but that was just the beginning. Her ice blue eyes were filled with so much anger I thought they were going to explode. Her body was shaking uncontrollably and her face was red from anger.

“Her office,” she whispered to herself before stomping away.

Instead of discouraging her, I wanted to give her a high five for finally doing something about her situation. She was treated like shit for so long, she was about to reach her snapping point. I quickly followed her into the kitchen and watched her grab stuff out of her fridge.

   She grabbed a jar of pickles before popping the lid off and sniffing it. She made a disgusted face before closing the lid and pulling out five more jars of pickles out of the fridge.
   Who the hell has six jars of pickles in their fridge?
   She grabbed two boxes of whip cream out of the fridge while mumbling something about them being expired.

She left the fridge open and grabbed a bottle of ketchup and a bottle of mustard from the kitchen counter. She went back to the fridge and grabbed a pack of eggs before shutting the fridge. She got a few cans of tuna out of a cabinet before attempting to carry all that.

“Let me help,” I offered.

“I can do it,” she replied, trying to carry all that in one go. I admired her stubbornness and her capability to carry five jars of pickles at the same time, but she couldn't carry all that by herself. I had no idea what she had planned ahead, but I decided to help her anyway. I almost felt excited because of how unexpected she was.

I grabbed the other jar of pickles from the ground and scooped up all the other food in my arms. The smell of the food was really making me sick. All the food smelled like shit. “It’s all expired.”

Was she psychic or something? “Why the hell do you have six jars of pickles in our house?” I scrunched up my face in disgust.

“She loves pickles,” her voice was laced with hatred.

“Obviously not only this kind,” I joked.

I couldn't really see where I was going, but I followed her footsteps to what looked like an office door. She kicked the door open and set the jars of bad pickles down. I did the same and set the food down next to the jars of pickles.

The room looked like it was built in the 1800's. Looked like a vampire built it or some shit. There were bookshelves along the walls and the wallpaper was old fashioned. So this is what a coffin looked like... I was interrupted from my thoughts by Rose grunting as she tried pushing the desk over.

I helped her knock it over with one hand.

The drawers came flying out. Not that much stuff was ruined though. Damn, her stepmom was an organized psycho.

Rosie couldn’t have cared less.
Huh, I liked this Rosie.

She pulled open one of the drawers from the desk and went through it. She grinned evilly as she pulled out a red folder. “What shall I do with you?” Her fingers frantically flipped through the pages contained within the file. Her evil grin widened, “I feel so… evil.” She giggled to herself.

I just stood there staring at her, shamelessly I might add. My eyes traveled from her feet to her face. I couldn't care less at how nuts she sounded at the moment. She pulled out some papers from the folder and set them on the ground. Then she grabbed a jar of pickle juice and poured it onto the carpet around the papers before turning to me. Afterwards, she also grabbed a bottle of water and poured on top of the pickle juice. “Got a light?”

I pulled out a lighter and handed it to her.

“You smoke?”

“Used to,” I shrugged while handing her the lighter.

“Good you stopped,” she accepted the lighter from me.

“Why is good I stopped?”

“Smoking kills you,” she stated. "And I hate the smell, and the taste.”

“Why, you knew someone who smoked?”

“A few.”

“Guessing you kissed Ricky?” I tried to ask coolly, but it came out aggressive.

She nodded, “and smelt it from my mom.”

“Cleo?”

She swallowed like it was hard for her to say, “Biological mom.”

I was quite surprised by her answer. To think about it, she didn’t really talk about her mother. “Where's your mom now?” I immediately regretted the question after it came out of my mouth.

“She left,” she replied in a tone as cold as ice. “Don’t know where she is.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize for asking questions,” she cut me off. She avoided eye contact with me and grabbed the papers from the ground. She smirked while lighting the papers on fire. She threw the burning papers to the ground where the pickle juice was.

I had to admit, she was a genius. She poured pickle juice and water on the carpet so that the fire wouldn’t spread as the paper burned. Ha, I never would've thought about that. She grabbed the red folder and pulled out of the rest of the papers before folding them neatly.

“Stay here,” she ordered me before rushing out to get something. I shrugged and obeyed her. I really didn't want her anymore pissed than she already was. She came back in wearing a tight white tank top and a pair of jean shorts.

She looked hot in the white tank top, but I wouldn't want her dressed like that outside. Too many guys would be staring at her boobs, and that was my job. I could tell she knew I was checking her out, but she just didn't care.

She grabbed a pickle jar and threw it against one of the bookshelves. The pickle jar smashed against the shelf making small pieces of glass fly everywhere. I turned away so that the glass wouldn't hit my face, but Rose just stayed complete still.

She grabbed some photo frames off another bookshelf and threw one to me. I caught it before it hit my face and looked at the photo. It was a picture of my step dad, my mom, Cleo, and the guy I assumed was Rosie’s dad. Huh, so they've all met before.

“Is that your dad?” I asked not bothering to look up from the picture.

“Don’t really know anymore, he’s never here and doesn’t try to keep in contact,” she replied in a cold tone. The tone obviously wasn't directed at me, but I still got chills from it. The four people were smiling at the camera.

“Do whatever you want to it,” she gestured to the photo and smirked at me.

I smirked back at her, “I intend to.” I threw the picture frame onto the floor and smashed my foot down onto it. I bent down and grabbed the picture out of the broken frame. A piece of glass cut me but I didn't flinch.

I was going to take all my anger out on this stupid picture. It was silly of me, but I felt like I needed it. We both needed it. “Hey, can I have the lighter?” I asked her. She tossed me the lighter to me without looking up from what she was doing. My aim was great, because her throwing still sucked.

I managed to catch it and lit the picture on fire immediately. I stared at the picture burning slowly. I watched the corners burn and curl up in the flames. I enjoyed every moment of watching their smiles disappear from the picture.

I let the picture fall to the floor and stomped on it over and over again. Those four deserved it. My mother deserved it for cheating on my dad and marrying an asshole. My step dad deserved it for having an affair with my mom while she was still married to my dad, and for beating me when I was younger.

Cleo deserved it for controlling and manipulating Rosie, making her life a living hell, and sleeping with my step dad while my mom was still married to him. Last but not least, Rosie's dad deserved it for never being there for her. He listened to everything Cleo had to say, but I could tell from her anger that he didn’t care enough to talk to her. Instead, he chose to hear everything through his trophy wife.

A good parent should always be there for their kid, no matter how old their child is.

I was so concentrated on glaring at the photo that I didn't notice was Rosie had done to the room. When I looked up I was shocked. She had whip cream, mustard, and ketchup decorating the walls. She actually did the room a favor if you asked me.

“Like it?” she asked, admiring her own work.

“I love it,” I grinned at her. I felt proud of myself for exposing her to the truth. I got her out of the dark and showed her what was going on behind her back. She grinned back at me.

“I haven't even started yet,” she chuckled. “This is me warming up.”

“Well, let's get started shall we?” I offered a hand to her. She accepted it and pulled me out of the room. Was it just me, or were there electric currents flowing through our hands that made me never want to let go? God, I was sounding cheesier and cheesier with every second passing by.

She pulled me into a king size bedroom and let go of my hand. I suddenly felt a little empty inside without her hand in mine. She rushed over to a closet and pulled out a suitcase flashy suitcase.

She zipped it open and started pulling out random women's clothes from the closet and dumping it in the suitcase. They seemed to be all brand named clothes. I saved a white dress that looked about Rosie’s size from being terminated and placed it on Rosie’s bed.

“Could you go grab some bad ham and expired milk for me please?” she asked politely. How could I say no to that?

She poured everything into the suitcase. I smelt the expired milk from feet away. Gross. The milk was chunky and smelt sour. Rose's bright blue eyes glowed with an emotion I couldn't quite pinpoint as she watched the milk fall from the carton into the suitcase.

Once she was done, she threw the milk carton in there and went over to the bathroom in the bedroom. She came back out with soaps and shampoo bottles. “Wanna' help?” she raised her eyebrows at me.

“Hell yeah,” I grabbed some shampoo bottles from her. We poured the shampoos into the suitcase and dumped the soaps into the suitcase as well. “I'm guessing this is your evil step mom's suitcase?”

“She's my ex step mom from now on,” Rose replied.

“As soon as your dad sees the video, you won't see her again.” I reassured her.

“I don't want my dad to be the only one to see it.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked up at me. “I want the entire town to see it.”

“Revenge porn is illegal.”

She looked disappointed.

“But your wish is my command, princess.”

~*~

“Did the file come through yet?”

“Still loading, it’s in HD.”

“Your laptop is impossible,” she glared at my laptop before licking the whip cream off her milkshake. Yep, she dragged me to a café… to get a milkshake.

After destroying some more of Cleo's stuff, I couldn't get logged into the internet in her house because she forgot her wifi password so we decided to drive to cafe. I was still worried about the fever she had earlier, but she seemed okay now after taking some medicine.

“What time is it?” she asked.

I glanced at the corner of my laptop for the time, “about 8:30.”

“We’ve been here for a long time,” she huffed. “I’ve had two milkshakes and it’s still not done loading.”

“Again, it’s in HD. Once I get the file, I’ll have to scroll through and find when exactly they were doing their kinky stuff-”

“So you’ll watch our stepparents having sex?” she scrunched up her face in disgust.

I almost puked even thinking of it, “I won’t watch it, god no. I’ll just find when the video starts and ends- that’s it.”

“You’ll still have to see it.”

“Unfortunately, unless you’d like to take the job-”

“No thank you!” She immediately declined, “your laptop is slower than two box turtles having sex.”

“You know how long it takes two box turtles to have sex?”

“I-I-” she stuttered to say something but failed.

“You watch animal porn?!” I gasped loud enough for everyone to hear. Everything went quiet and I felt all eyes on us.

Her cheeks turned bright red. “N-no, o-o-of course not!”

“No need to lie to me.”

She lowered her voice, “I Googled it in fourth grade out of curiosity. Out of curiosity only, I swear!”

By then everyone was back to their own business.

I gasped, “Naughty girl!”

“No! It was only for educational purposes-”

“Uh huh, still doesn’t change the fact you watch animal porn.”

“No!”

“You watch animal porn.”

“I don't!” she hissed.

“You're transparent.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I stared at her, “It means I can see straight through you.” She looked a little paranoid for a moment. “It means I can see through your lies, or anything you’re trying to cover up.” She visibly tensed up. Something was up, “It means I can tell you watch animal porn.”

She relaxed but still swatted my arm. Was it weird for me to like it when she swatted me like that? “So like to watch turtle porn?” I asked her and gained a swat on the arm again. “Box turtle porn?” she swatted my arm again. God, I really was enjoying her touch.

“I don't watch any porn,” she said holding her head up high.

“Sure.”

“I don't.”

“I believe you,” I held my laughter.

“No you don't.”

“Damn.”

“What?” she glared at me.

“Are you psychic babe?”

“Babe?”

Oops. I tried playing it off cool. “Don't you just love your new nicknames?”

“Not really,” she lied. She was so easy to read.

“You're like glass slipper, I can see right through you.”

“Nice comparison.”

“I'm serious.”

“So am I,” she looked me in the eye. I stared at her bright blue eyes before looking at her milkshake.

“What are you looking at?” she asked sounding insecure. I really don't know what she had to be insecure about. Everything about her was perfect already; she had no reason to be insecure.

“Your milkshake,” I replied honestly.

An old lady walked passed us at that moment and gasped. “You should be ashamed of yourself!” She swatted me with her purse and left.

It left us both laughing.

“You deserved that,” she teased.

“Meanie,” I pouted.

“Seriously? Mr. Bad Boy actually called me a meanie?” she laughed.

“I like your nickname for me, it’s very…. Creative.”

“Why thank you, I thought you might prefer being called 'Prince Bad Ass'.”

I froze up. Ah, fuck! Did she remember every single thing? “What do you remember?”

“Hmm... let's see,” she tapped her chin pretending to think.

I don't think my heart could've pounded any faster in my rib cage. I prayed that she didn't remember me getting a boner or me knowing all about her secret. Then suddenly, there was a little beeping sound from my laptop. I looked down and the video had finished downloading.

“It's done,” I sighed in relief. “The video’s downloaded.”

“Finally! That was slower than two box turtles having sex-”

“Still, you read box turtle porn.”

“Whatever Mr. Bad Boy,” she rolled her eyes. “At least I didn't get a boner while telling someone a bedtime story.”

Ah fuck, she was conscious…?

~*~

Crush on Mr. Bad Boy by Lilly Purdon (33)

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