Page 7 of Wicked Spite
“Is it not enough that I have to deal with your rebellious streak?” he snarls, his voice full of venom. “Now I find outyou’re working as a shot girl in some sleazy bar? You’re a disgrace, Reagan.”
“Actually, Dad, no it isn’t,” I retort, my tone dripping with sarcasm, “I’m sorry, would you prefer I come work for you as a fuck toy like Ashley? I’m sure her mommy is super proud of what you’ve done to her. The last time I checked, I’m an adult who can make her own choices.”
His face reddens even more, if that’s possible. “You think this is funny? You’re embarrassing yourself, and you’re embarrassing me! I didn’t raise you to parade yourself publicly in some dive, working for tips.” Ah, there it is. If he was benefiting off of what I’m doing for work, he’d be fine with it.
“Yeah, you raised me to be a bargaining chip to get your ass business deals,” I shoot back, my anger flaring. My resilience and defiance keep me from backing down, despite the intensity of his rage. “And last time I checked, I fulfilled your stupid business deal, so you have no right to tell me how to live my life now.”
He grits his teeth, clearly struggling to maintain control. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? So clever, always pushing my boundaries. But one day, Reagan, you’re going to push too far.”
“Better than living in fear, constantly worrying about what you’re going to do to me next,” I reply, my determination unwavering. I refuse to let him intimidate me, even though my stomach churns with anxiety. “Newsflash, Dad. You’ve done your worst. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”
Our eyes lock, neither of us willing to back down. It’s a battle of wills—a battle I’m determined to win. I am my own person, and I will live my life on my own terms.
“Speaking of things you care about,” he sneers, “I can’t help but wonder what kind of example you’re setting for yoursister. Thankfully, she doesn’t have your attitude problem. She’s very…agreeable.”
Thing. He called her a thing.
My blood boils at the mention of my little sister, and I feel white-hot rage surge through me. My face contorts with anger as my jaw clenches and my eyes narrow into slits. How dare he bring her into this? The nerve of him to use her as a pawn to manipulate me! I’m fiercely protective of her, and I’ll be damned if I let him weaponise my love for her against me.
“Leave her the fuck alone,” I growl, my voice nothing less than venomous. “She has nothing to do with anything.”
“Maybe not yet,” he replies smugly, trying to get under my skin. “But she’s impressionable, and who knows what kind of trouble she’ll find herself in if she follows your example. Thank God she has me to guide her on the right track.”
The rage within me reaches its breaking point, and before I can even think about the consequences, my hand flies up and connects with his cheek in a powerful slap. The sound is sharp, echoing through my small apartment, and the impact leaves a stinging sensation on my palm.
His head snaps to the side from the force of the blow, and for a moment, there’s complete silence between us. Dad’s eyes widen in shock, clearly not expecting me to lash out like that. But then again, he should know better than to underestimate me—I’m impulsive, reckless, and never one to back down from a challenge.
Just like him.
“Reagan, you…” he starts, but the words die on his lips as he stares at me, still reeling from the slap. I can see the surprise in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by anger as he glares at me, his mouth set in a tight line.
“Stay away from her, John,” I hiss, my voice tremblingwith fury. “You may have some control over me for now, but you’ll never lay a finger on her. Understand?”
As the weight of my actions starts to sink in, I brace myself for the consequences that are bound to follow. But one thing is certain—I will do whatever it takes to protect Reese and keep her safe.
Anything. Stealing. Lying. Murder. I don’t care. I’d do it to save her from this monster who should have never been allowed to have kids in the first place.
“When you sold me to that old fuck, you turned me into something I was never meant to become. Don’t be surprised when your own creation turns on you,” I tell him, and I mean every single word.
A twisted snarl forms on my father’s face, and I know I’ve crossed a line. He lunges at me with terrifying speed, his large hand wrapping around my throat like a vise. Panic floods my body as I claw at his fingers, desperate for air. The world starts to blur at the edges, but through the haze, I see the rage in his eyes, fueled by years of disappointment and resentment.
“Watch your fucking mouth, Reagan,” he growls, tightening his grip. The pressure against my windpipe is unbearable, and I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears. My vision darkens, and I know that if he doesn’t let go soon, I’ll pass out—or worse.
“I fucking hate you…stop it. Let go of me,” I choke out, my voice barely audible. Fear courses through my veins, but it’s mixed with something else—shame. I’m the girl who never backs down from a challenge, the one who faces every obstacle head-on, and yet here I am, begging for mercy from the very man who forced me to be strong. I’m not afraid to die. It would probably be a relief to be honest, but I can’t leave Reese here to face him on her own. She’s too sweet, too kind, too innocent for the world he wants to bring her into.
My father hesitates for a moment, and then, as if suddenly realizing what he’s doing, he releases me. I collapse onto the cold floor, gasping for air. Each breath is a struggle, but I manage to fill my lungs with enough oxygen to clear my head.
“Is this how you treat your own daughter?” I ask, trembling with anger. “Maybe you should remember this the next time you want a favor to save your ass.”
“Maybe you should learn when to keep your damn mouth shut,” he spits back, his voice dripping with menace. Despite the throbbing pain in my neck and the lingering terror coursing through me, I refuse to cower before him.
“Stay away from Reese,” I repeat, my voice wavering but determined. He doesn’t deserve to have her as a daughter. “I won’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to protect her.” I grin at my father, swallowing hard because my throat is aching before I tell him what he’s already thinking, “I learned from the best, didn’t I,Daddy?”
His eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think he might attack me again. But then he turns on his heel and storms out of the studio, slamming the door behind him. I’m left in stunned silence, clutching my bruised throat and trying to comprehend what just happened.
I flop down on my bed because my body is aching from the altercation, and I struggle to process the whirlwind of emotions raging inside me—anger at my father for his actions, fear of what he might do next, and a fierce determination to protect my sister at all costs. I know one thing for certain though: the battle lines have been drawn, and it’s up to me to fight for my family and myself, no matter theconsequences.
I struggle to regain my composure, my hand instinctively reaching up to touch the tender skin of my throat. My heart races in a panicked rhythm, like a caged bird fighting for escape. I focus on each shallow breath, trying to calm the storm raging within me.
