Page 98 of Crybaby

“Just peachy…considering you jammed a fucking knife into it.”

She giggles, and it’s akin to the Satan’s doorbell, welcoming me into hell.

Playtime is over, however, when I hear Walter Beckett talking to Coach Anderson.

We sink low, using the tree as our barricade as we watch the guest of honor talking in secret with Coach Anderson. I look at him, really look at him for the first time because I see him through different eyes. I can’t believe he’s my dad—this fucking chump who wears beige chinos and a polo is my father.

What the fuck was June thinking? And better yet, what was Walter thinking about having sex with my mom? He would never be caught dead fucking someone like her—I mean, what would his country club friends think?

I guess that’s why he kept me a secret. He knew I existed. The fact that he was in possession of my birth certificate is proof of that.

I have so many questions, which is why I need them alive.

Carson and Blake are too busy gossiping like little bitches to see the coach, but when they do, something changes in them both. I watch closely and examine the way Carson’s cocky demeanor diminishes. He grows almost nervous as he fiddles with his blue tie.

I can’t hear what is being said, but Carson looks uncomfortable when the coach wraps his arm around his shoulders, drawing him into his side.

“You don’t think the coach is taking his leadership a little too seriously, do you?” Darcie asks, as she too can see what I can.

I don’t reply because, honestly, I don’t know. But it would explain a lot.

Some abuse victims become the abusers to gain back their power, and we all know what a megalomaniac Carson is.

This gets more fucked up by the second, but when the guests start arriving, I know the party has just begun.

The house is full of anyone of importance. It’s perfect.

Darcie isn’t aware of my plan, just yet, and that’s because I wasn’t sure if we’d be able to pull it off. But remember when I said money talks? Well, money talks to a computer geek who has just became my new best friend.

We’ve ditched the staff uniforms and changed into the outfits we packed in the duffel we hid away in the green house. It is a black-tie event, after all. So we’ve adhered to the dress code. I have on black suit pants and a crisp white shirt. I’m wearing suspenders and a black bow tie.

Black Chucks complete my outfit.

Very dashing, indeed.

Darcie wears a red silk strapless ball gown. Seem appropriate because I know come nightfall, she’s going to burn this kingdom to the ground. The dress is ruffled and long at the back and short at the front, showcasing her shoes which are black combat boots.

It reminds me of prom. That seems like a lifetime ago, but that was the night that kick-started this shit show, so it seems appropriate she goes back in time.

Her hair frames her beautiful face and regardless of the fact that she wants me dead, I still love her with every breath I take.

We look like every other jackass here, but we still need to keep to the shadows because no matter how badly I want to watch the fall of the Beckett empire, there’s something more important—and that’s giving Darcie the vengeance she deserves.

What I have planned is just a decoy because the real prize is Carson.

The guests are ushered into the ballroom like good little sheep and talk amongst themselves, sipping their French champagne. The sound of a microphone tapping kills the chatter, and everyone sets their sights on the small stage erected especially for tonight.

It’s Judge Peterson, ready to publicly jerk off Walter. “Ladies and gentlemen and Bobby Turlington,” he says with a laugh as he looks at the hotshot councilman.

The crowd erupts into laughter while I try not to gag. These people are fucking lame.

“Thank you for coming tonight. We honor a great man. A man who has done everything in his power to protect this town.”

I snort while Darcie elbows me in the ribs to can it.

“Put your hands together in welcoming my friend, Walter Beckett!”

Walter, Theresa, and Carson take the stage, appearing coy and thankful for such an introduction. The sight only sets my plan into motion.

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