Page 1 of Mr. Delicious
Chapter 1
Wren
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Iscreamed from the depths of my soul and smashed the baseball bat down hard on the hood of Billy’s Range Rover.
I hit the damn thing so hard the bat cracked as it made a nice little dent in the supposed gift he’d gotten from work.
Lies, all lies.
He didn’t get the stupid truck from work. He bought it with my hard-earned money.
“No, stop!” Billy’s mortified cry rang out as I slammed the bat down repeatedly. “Wren stop, please don’t.” He rushed over to me in the driveway as I went ahead with my damage, taking all my frustration out on his most beloved possession.
He was about to grab me, but I jumped back and waved the bat around like a crazy person, aiming it right at him. The warning made him stop in his tracks, eyes wide with shock, nostrils flared, and skin blazing red. Even his mustache twitched.
He knew I would do it.
Hit him.
Yes.
Iwould hit him.
I could see my fucking piece of shit of a boyfriendknewI was furious enough to land the bat right across his face, not just on his precious Range Rover. Not that he’d seen me behave like this before, but he knew the situation called for it.
“Leave!” I screamed.
“Wren please. I can explain.” He stuttered taking a step toward me.
I held the bat higher, daring him, and he stopped again. “You lying, cheating asshole!”
“Please, don’t kick me out. I have nowhere to go.”
“Get out, or I swear I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
The shit he’d put me through more than called for me to beat him. I was a woman who’d reached her breaking point.
His clothes that were spread out over the front lawn spoke in droves. I wanted him out.Gone.
It was unlike me; completely out of my character to behave like a mad woman. Throwing clothes out the window, screaming and hollering for the whole street to hear was so unlike me.
I didn’t do things like that.
I hated drama.
Itried to do good and to be a good person. In fact, I would say I went out of my way to make sure I did one good deed a day. The last person to offend anyone was me because I was always considerate of others feelings; even when they were horrible to me.
I, most certainly would never have gotten mad enough to take a baseball bat as my intended weapon with the intent to destroy Billy’s Range Rover and beat the ever-living shit out of him.
“You have five minutes to get your things and go. Andpuh-leasetake that…woman with you.” I pointed at the skank sitting on our front porch swing chewing gum and blowing bubbles.
“Don’t want him,” the woman called back. “Gladly watch you beat him though.”
The evening had kicked off with her.
I came home after a long, exhausting day at the coffeehouse. My bed was calling to me.Exhaustedwas actually too meagre a word to describe how I felt. Three of my waitresses hadn’t turned up, and I had to do everything. Monday’s were always busy and being so close to the L in Chicago meant I had periods throughout the day when I was completely overrun with customers.
