Page 36 of Acid

Dad’s stuff is the only thing I need to go through, and if Mom hasn’t packed her crap, then the charity van will be taking it all.

The house has finally sold for the asking price of $330,000. Half I’m placing into Cassidy’s bank account, already thankfully having the transfer details, while the rest will be going into a savings account that I opened after Dad died, putting most of my winnings from my fights in there.

That's another reason why fixing the gym has taken me years.

I have a spending limit, and I’ve ensured I keep to it. My diner salary keeps me sorted with the day-to-day necessities, while a quarter of my fight money goes to the gym.

I swallow hard as I pick up a few baby photos of me and Cass with dad, my eyes tearing at the wide smile on his face holding baby me while Cass looks at me with awe. I pick up three stacks of cash and a smile graces my face, a little chuckle at the note.

Perrie’s payback cash from her fights –

Of course, he knew I was fighting; it would explain why he trained me harder than anyone else and allowed Acid to go all out with me.

A few tears fall, and I wipe them away. I place the cash in the duffel bag near my feet before grabbing all the paperwork for the gym and house inside, and putting it in the duffel, too. Then, I go through the rest of the paperwork and my eyes widen when I see some are from a private investigator.

I quickly glance over it, and I swallow hard.

Holy….

Clearing my throat, I put the paperwork in the bag before ensuring I haven’t missed anything else in the safe. Most of the things are replaceable, and some are valuable; I’m just trying to ensure that the important things are all saved.

Sighing, I zip up the bag before looking around the closet one last time. I don't see anything I know Dad would have wanted to keep. I checked all his shirt and jacket pockets, only finding a few receipts for birthday presents for me and Cass.

Picking up the bag, I head back into my parent’s bedroom, making sure nothing was missed.

Nodding when I don’t see anything, I leave their room and double-check Cassidy’s. Again, the room is bare, and the closet is empty. Then I head to mine.

Only the furniture Mom set up is in there; there is no memorabilia in the room. I’ve checked the two storage closets and the attic. Several things that belonged to Dad, I packed them all and already took them to the storage unit while Mom was out somewhere with Andrea, most likely shopping for baby things.

“We’re having a baby, Perrie. You need to back off. Quit the diner and get out of his life. I won’t have my baby feel guilty for being born!”

I blink back the tears that want to fall, refusing to think about it again and again.

I’ve done that ever since Andrea showed up at my job, this time to gloat that Acid got her pregnant. She’s now roughly seven weeks along, and she and Mom have been shopping, buying a crib and clothes, and setting it all up in my old room like that would make me change my mind.

Mom tried to corner me two weeks ago and demanded I cancel the sale of the house, saying that Andrea needed her help. I threatened to call the police and request a restraining order if she didn’t get the fuck gone.

Shaking my head, trying to ignore the tearing of my cold heart at the thought of Andrea, my so-called friend, and Acid, the man I gave everything to, having a baby, and that he wasn’t even man enough to tell me himself.

However, what right do I have to know? I’m just the girl he was disgusted with after screwing on the diner counter, it’s not like he was my best friend or anything, right?

Slowly, I walk down the stairs, hearing my father’s laughter as I go, memories of him chasing me when I’d run away, not wanting a bath, to the times he’d hum as he’d carry me to bed when I’d fallen asleep.

My mother ruins my memories as she speaks, “I thought you cleared out all yours and Cassidy’s stuff, so what’s in the duffel bag?” she asks in confusion.

I roll my eyes at my mother before looking at her and reminding her, “I own all of Dad’s belongings; I’ve just gone through them." She narrows her eyes, but I ignore her and state, “You have three days to vacate the house.”

Andrea’s face goes red, and she stands. “Perrie, you’re just acting jealous and petty! This is Trudy’s home; youcannotsell it.”

I raise a brow at her and the choice of clothing for a so-called pregnant woman.

I swear the more time passes, the worse her dress sense has become. She’s wearing a dress so fricking short and low you nearly see her underwear and nipples. Not even the clubwhores dress like that.

I scoff at the bitch who, yet again, has decided to get involved, and sneer, “Actually, Andrea, I can sell it because I own it, and besides, it’s already sold.” Both their eyes widen. “And if you are still here in three days, then the new owners will have you arrested for trespassing.” I look at my mother next. “This stopped being your home when you decided to have an affair then allow your lover’s daughter to become friends with me, knowing she was using me, always taking her side when you knew she was wrong every time.”

Mom’s tears fall, but I just shake my head at her, disgusted, before looking around the living area, ensuring I got everything. I notice my father’s gold watch on the mantelpiece and, ignoring Mom and Andrea, I walk over and grab it, placing it in the bag along with the photo of him sitting on the hood of the Mustang. Mom’s gasped, “Perrie, no,” just hitting my ears, but I continue to blank her out, before walking out of the house.

“Perrie, please. Your grandmother bought watch for your father when we got married. He left you everything else, please,” Mom tries as she follows me out of the house.

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