Page 40 of Wild Hit
“Or this?” A pair of pink jeans.
“Dad, please. I don’t want to look like cowboy Barbie.”
“Excuse me,” a third voice says, and we turn to Audrey wearing what I’d normally define as a monstrosity—a hot pink dress with hanging flaps on the sides. I’m sure they have a name. “What’s wrong with looking like cowboy Barbie?” She motions at herself.
I really have to bite my lips hard this time. Pretty sure no one would appreciate to be laughed at in these circumstances. And the warning look she tosses my way tells me as much.
“On second thought,” Marty says like it’s no biggie. “Maybe that dress really wasn’t for you.”
That does it. I explode in the most unhinged laughter—great guffaws that bend me over and burn my eyes, giving my jaw the workout of a lifetime.
It takes them dropping me off in the men’s section to calm my outburst down to sporadic giggles.
They don’t show me whatever they get after that, but they’re both pleased as punch on the drive back home. It tells me that whatever they picked is going to cause waves at the school event. My chest is about bursting as we get out of the car, even as we say goodbye to our neighbor, because I hadn’t seen my daughter this happy in… ages.
She grabs my hand again and looks up at me like I’m no longer her enemy. “Today was the best day.”
I let myself smile down at her with all the joy I feel, and my free hand reaches up to wrap around the pendant of my necklace, which I usually only do when I’m nervous.
And I realize that I am—I’m afraid that this moment will end. That this joy won’t last.
Like the worst sort of prophet, I freaking bring the end of the calm with that thought alone, because suddenly there’s a clear “what the shit?” coming from next door.
Normally I’d try to shield Marty’s ears from the spicy language that I’d otherwise use in the locker room without a problem, but there’s enough alarm in the three words that a different instinct kicks in.
“Audrey?” I call out in the quiet of the dimming evening.
The woman reappears in our field of vision, huffing, her eyes wide as she pushes her golden hair away from her face. “I—I can’t get into my house. Someone has changed the lock.”
My head jerks back, as if punched.
What the shit, indeed. Who would do that?
I don’t know if I’ve said it aloud, because Audrey hisses and says, “I know exactly who did this,” and reaches for the phone in her pocket.
CHAPTER 17
AUDREY
Dad answers exactly at four rings, and I manage to contain my anger enough to not spill another flaming word in front of Marty. “What the heck, Dad?”
“Good evening, Audrey. Did you like your surprise?”
I grind my teeth and turn my back at the audience, but I feel that Miguel and Marty’s presence stays near even as I pace on my lawn. “I’ll give you credit for not pretending that you had nothing to do with why I can’t get into my own house, but that’s it. I want an explanation right now.”
“I figured this would be the only way you would call me.” I can practically hear him shrugging nonchalantly.
Meanwhile, my jaw drops and I gasp hard enough to hurt my throat. With a raspy voice, I say, “I should call the cops. You’re essentially trespassing on my private property.”
“You could do that, yes,” Dad muses in the most unconcerned way. “Or we could just have the conversation that you’ve been running away from right now.”
I run a hand through my hair, pushing my bangs backward to give me minuscule relief from the humid evening heat. My mind races with all possible plans to escape from this moment—everything from feigning some mysterious pain, screamingabout a sudden alligator sighting, pretending that I’m being mugged, or that my signal is weak and pressing on the red button with gusto.
But if my father’s getting impatient enough to lock me out of my own damn house, it means he’s willing to do anything at this point. That all my stalling tactics are up. Time to fess up.
“What do you want?” I grouch under my breath, my shoulders huddling as if I could make myself smaller.
“I know that you have done diddly squat to fulfill your end of the bargain,” he casually says, “my lawyer confirmed that enough time has passed since we made our deal for you to have a new last name.”
