Page 3 of Villainous Summer

A laugh escaped from my chest.

“That’s your big concern? No, my nosy friends did not. She tagged your Instagram. How exactly did you think this was going to go, Cory? Did you think I would never find out?”

“No, I . . .” He sighed, looking up at the sky as if it would give him the answers. “What do you want me to say, Summer? I was lonely, and you were there. I didn’t expect to fall for you. Then you were gone in London, and it all felt like pretend, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

With his thumbnail, he scratched his jaw, forming a grimace. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Blue.”

At the nickname, the fire inside me flared red to white.

“Don’t call me that. You think I didn’t see her license plate holder? Blue. Can you form a single original thought? We even look alike!”

Stepping closer, he set a placating hand on my cheek. “Look, if you leave, I promise I can explain it all later, okay? I’ll call you, and we can do dinner soon. But you have to leave now.”

I batted his hand away, shaking my head. “I can’t believe you. You think there is anything you could say that would make this okay?”

The sign he gave was patient, as if I were a petulant child. “Grow up, Summer. We had fun, but it’s over. Now, could you be an adult about this and leave before you get more emotional?”

Emotional? I’d show him emotional.

Sneering, I narrowed my eyes. “You want me to leave? I can’t do that before you take your gift, Cory.” Once again, I pushed the wine at him, but he didn’t take it. “Fine, your loss.” I stepped backward and hurled the bottle at his front door.

It whizzed by his head, narrowly missing his ear, where it hit the frame.

Yellow fizz and black glass exploded as it shattered against the Welcome sign, showering Cory. Liquid dripped from the wreath and onto the kitschy doormat.

He ducked, his hands covering the back of his neck. “You stupid bitch. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

As if bombs were falling—not a prestigious cuvée of Veuve Clicquot—he threw his hands over his head.

“Only what you deserve!” I shouted.

In my peripheral, an older lady stepped out onto her porch, narrowing her eyes and wrapping a cardigan around her shoulders.

Swiping away the frothing champagne from his hair, he glowered. “Are you crazy? That could have hit me! I could have been hurt.”

“You’d deserve it. I wish it did, you lying piece of shit.”

More people popped their heads out of their front doors.

Stalking to me, he reached for my elbow again, but I jerked it back.

“Can you go, before you make an even bigger fool of yourself.”

His words were hisses through clenched teeth.

Rage boiling in my veins, I wanted to stay, to scratch and wound him as deep as he had me.

I wasn’t going to stand here and allow this man to tell me what to do.

“Me? I’m the fool? You sack of garbage. I ought to—“

From the left, someone asked, “Cory, should I call the police?”

With a glare to the neighbor, I stumbled back.

In the two weeks after I met Cory, that neighbor used to wave and flash a cheery smile at me. Now she was threatening me?

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