Page 40 of F*ck You

I breatheda sigh of relief when my truck sputtered to life. I hadn’t even set my eyes on it in the week since I’d arrived here, I was worried it might have more trouble starting up than it did. Putting it into reverse, I backed up and then hightailed it out of there.

Thankful that I managed to avoid rush hour because I never had the patience for it, I jumped on the highway and went to the next town over where I heard they’d have the highest variety of stores. I stopped at one for a bathing suit first.

I perused the aisles, trying to find the perfect one. There were so many, and I never was one to spend a lot of time shopping since my time was always better spent on more important things—like pretty much anything but this—but now I was desperate.

After trying on a handful and discarding them all, I finally settled on a cute black bikini with red accents. The top was a halter, and the strings that tied in the back were red too, but they were sturdier than most and would more likely hold up when surfing. I managed to pick up a second set, one that was a dark blue with the top more like a sports bra. Deciding on getting them both, I found a bag to carry my stuff around in, made my purchase, and headed to the hardware store.

The next store was small, and it didn’t take me long to find the parts to fix the screen door. I also picked up a complete toolbox while I was at it, figuring I could get some use out of it since I doubted this would be the first time I would need to fix something.

“Need some help learning those tools, little lady?”

I turned to look at the middle-aged man behind me with a full beard, scrunching my face when he winked at me. The gleam he had in that wink made me want to recoil.

“No, thanks, I think I know how to work a fucking screwdriver. Would you like me to teach you the proper technique?”

“That’s no way for a lady to speak to a man.”

I scoffed at the audacity he had, paid for my things, and flipped him off as I exited the store. The last thing I saw was the small part in his beard as his jaw dropped.

Hurrying to get out of there, I hopped in my truck and headed toward the grocery store next. I would really need to get a new muffler sometime too. That was only one of the many things that needed to be fixed, but that would be a start.

I rushed through the aisles, filling my little hand basket with various food items to get me through the next week or two. I even managed to pick up a couple more bags of chips, those could be an unintentional meal all their own. When the basket was so heavy I could barely lift it, I paid for the items and left. I wondered if I would be able to bring everything inside all in one trip. If not, then it certainly wouldn’t be from a lack of trying.

Relieved that I managed to somehow complete the errands by lunch, I drove back. My fingers tapped on the steering wheel in time to the radio, and I sang horrid car karaoke with my window down, probably breaking the eardrums of anyone less fortunate enough to drive by, but I didn’t care. I was having a damn good day, and I was celebrating by singing like a dying banshee. Nobody could rain on my parade.

I even threw in some blindingly bad dance moves. I was in a great mood and ready for the world to know about it.

My phone buzzed on the seat beside me, and I rolled my eyes. I really needed to finish telling everyone to fuck off and then change my phone number. Unfortunately, my phone was registered under Todd’s name, so I really just needed to get rid of it altogether and start over on my own plan. I was actually surprised he hadn’t disconnected it yet. The bastard was probably still trying to get a hold of me.

I was only a mile from my exit when strange noises started sounding from the engine. They were sounds I hadn’t heard before. It didn’t sound like the truck would break down before I reached home, but they were still different enough to concern me. I wondered if either of the guys knew anything about cars. Maybe I would have them look at it sometime or direct me to someone who could.

Making a mental note to mention it to them even though I would most likely forget about it, I whipped the truck into the parking lot and cut the engine. Grabbing all my bags in one load so I wouldn’t need to make a second trip, I shut the door with my foot and locked it with the key fob in the mouth.

I rushed across the sand and made it to the front door right as my arms were about to fall off from the weight of the bags. The keys fell from my mouth as I cursed myself for not thinking about how I would open up the door.

“Need some help?” The familiar voice sounded as sweet as a cavity, but I groaned.

I knew that voice, and I didn’t want her anywhere near me.

“Here, let me help.” She picked up my fallen keys and unlocked the door on the second try, swinging it wide open with the keys still dangling from the lock. Looping my finger through the key ring, I pulled them out, ran inside and thrust all the bags on the floor. Spinning around to face her, I stood in the middle of the kitchen, shaking the feeling back into my arms as she walked inside. Fuck.

“Nice place you got here.” She looked around as though she was an old friend who I was giving a tour to. And I most certainly wasn’t giving the bitch a tour.

“Can I help you with something?” I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I had a feeling she was up to something, but I didn’t know what. I sure didn’t trust her enough to even blink.

“I only wanted to say hi.” She stopped scanning my home and turned her big brown eyes on me. “I hear you’re new in town, and I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.”

“I’m pretty certain we had our introductions when you fucked with the boat.” I pointed at my legs for emphasis. They had faint pink scars, and I could barely tell they’d ever been cut by the bitch’s glass.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry about that. I can be such a klutz at times.”

“Right.” I drew out the word, unsure what to say next. Leaning a hand on the counter, I placed the other on my hip. “Look, bitch, let’s cut to the chase. I know you don’t like me, and honestly, I don’t give a shit about you. Get out of my house before I cut your hair.”

Her eyes shot open at my lame threat and I fought back a smile. The image of her crying on the floor while I held a pair of scissors and a rather large chunk of her hair amused me so much for some reason. I briefly wondered if there was something wrong with me, but then I remembered I was pretty fucked up in the head already.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna test me?” I tilted my head forward slightly and raised an eyebrow, which must have worked, because she began retreating to the door.

She stopped with her hand on the doorknob and looked at my bags, picking out the one from the bathing suit store. “It doesn’t matter what you wear, it won’t be enough. You don’t deserve them.”

I grabbed the largest kitchen knife from the block on the counter and walked toward her. It was enough to do the job, because she screamed bloody murder and shot out the door before I had a chance to tell her to fuck off. I watched as she sprinted across the sand, nearly knocking a woman over as she sped past, and I smiled. Shutting the door, I locked it and got to work putting everything away.

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