Page 22 of The Tangle of Awful

I refuse to let Spencer Park run me off ever again.

Spencer

Aubrey is different. A whole new animal than I’m used to. A mysterious, mirrored fragment of the girl she once was with sharp edges that now has the potential to make me bleed.

Sure, I freaked her out for a minute when I’d held her under the water. It’s not like I’d actually drown her. Dad would kill me. But I wanted to knock her off her lounger where she sat so regally—a queen in my kingdom.

And I’d won.

Sent her running into the house to sob into her pillow. Like old times.

That lasted a few hours, and then by dinner, she was back to invading my home unapologetically, laughing at all Dad’s corny jokes and acting as if I were invisible.

Fuck. That.

Apparently, she’s tougher than I gave her credit for. That LA life of hers hardened her until she’s barely recognizable. She’s still the girl who tried to ruin my life and I’m going to enjoy every second of paying her back.

I wait until it’s past midnight before even attempting my next move. Long after the house has gone silent and the light from her bedroom doesn’t peek through the cracks. When I turn the knob, it opens easily, inviting me into her space.

Using my phone flashlight, I scan her room. Beside her sleeping form, on the nightstand, her phone is plugged in and charging. I pick it up and it lights up, asking for a passcode since my face doesn’t match. That’s easily remedied.

I gently stroke away her silky hair from her face and stare down at her parted lips. There’d been a time—long ago—that I’d often fantasized about sex with Aubrey. Just a taste of the forbidden. A tease to get me by.

Forbidden fruit is poisonous, though.

Infects your every cell and decomposes your soul.

I’d barely survived her once, when I was young and fucking stupid. I’m not looking to almost die again.

Using her sleeping face to unlock her phone, I then walk over to her desk chair to sit. It creaks under my weight, but the rhythmic breathing coming from the bed tells me she wasn’t disturbed by it.

Her most recent texts are from Gemma.

Gemma: Are you okay?

Gemma: Spencer and Dempsey were just being asses.

Gemma: Call me tomorrow when you’re not upset.

Aubrey finally replied back to her this evening.

Aubrey: I’m good. Just sucked in water and felt like shit. Didn’t need everyone seeing me puke. Talk tomorrow.

Gemma then went on to send her a million stupid emojis but nothing else of interest.

I scroll down to a couple of days ago to read the texts between her and her dad.

Tony: I’m so goddamn sick of the bullshit, Aubs.

Aubrey: It was a mistake.

Tony: A mistake? Are you for real right now?

Aubrey: Dad. Please. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.

Tony: YOU FUCKED MY BOSS. How in the hell was that an accident?

Aubrey stretches on the bed and then rolls over, the springs squeaking beneath her. I stare over at her, craning my neck and listening for any signal of her waking. When I’m sure she’s still asleep, I turn my attention back to the soap opera that is her life.

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