Page 28 of Wicked Nasty

Tears begin to well up in her eyes and I feel guilty for exploding at her once again.

And just like that, we’ve broken through the thin layer of eggshells we constantly tiptoe around in this house.

“This is why I fucking hate it here,” I mutter before storming off to my room, slamming the door shut behind me. It’s a familiar scene; we can’t say anything remotely critical to my mom without her tearing up and locking herself in her room for days.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock at my door and my sister Delilah enters. She looks concerned as she asks, “What was that about?”

I bury my face in my pillow before sitting up and groaning. “You know... can’t say fucking boo to mom without her crying.”

Delilah sits down on the bed next to me, her brow furrowed. “Yeah, but what upset her this time?”

“I told her to forget about a conversation dad and I were having,” I explain with frustration.

She raises an eyebrow. “Go on.”

Sighing, I continue, “Becca is homeless and living in her car. Dad and I were talking about it and now mom wants to get involved. She even suggested that Becca could be like her project. But she’s not some charity case or distraction from thinking about her dead daughter. She’s a person, Del.”

My sister lets out a low whistle and joins me on the bed. “Damn...”

“Yup,”

“Well, it seems like it’s happening whether you want it to or not at this point,” Delilah says with a sympathetic look. “Once mom gets an idea in her head, she doesn’t let it go. Especially these days.”

I retrieve my phone from my pocket, unlocking the screen and scrolling through my social media feed. I pause on a photo of Becca, taken in front of our school just as the sun is rising, bathing her in a stunning orange glow.

God, she’s breathtakingly beautiful. Just looking at her makes my heart race.

“Danny? Earth to Danny?” Del’s voice pulls me back to reality.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry,” I reply, feeling heat creeping into my cheeks.

Del laughs knowingly. “So you definitely don’t have the hots for Becca?”

My face flushes even more. “No! Jesus, even Dad asked me that.”

“I mean... it’s pretty obvious,” she continues with a smirk.

I quickly lock my phone screen and glare up at her. “You can leave now.”

Del chuckles and heads for the door. “Better take one last look at that gorgeous girl smiling, because we all know by tomorrow she won’t be.”

I groan and throw my head back against the wall. She’s right.

Becca is going to be livid. Not just mad, but absolutely furious.And I deserve every ounce of pain she’s going to inflict upon me.

Sittinginmycar,I can feel the weight of fear and dread settle like a stone in my stomach as I stare at the looming front doors of the school. I know Becca will be waiting for me, ready to unleash her wrath on me. As I take deep breaths and try to prepare myself, I silently pray that my mom kept quiet about last night’s incident, but my hope quickly fades as I remember her past behavior. Glancing around the parking lot, I scan anxiously for Becca’s car, hoping that she’s not here yet.

Gripping my backpack tightly, I make my way towards the school building, trying to avoid any potential confrontation. But before I can even reach my locker, a powerful force slams into my back and sends me crashing into the lockers. Staggering to turn around, I am met with Becca’s raging fist connecting with my face. The sickening sound of bones cracking and the warmth of blood gushing down my face only fuel Becca’s frenzy as she continues to attack me mercilessly.

“What the fuck! You’re a fucking psycho!”

“I’ll show you fucking psycho, Danny!”

Her hands wrap around my throat, her nails digging into my skin as she tries to choke me. Kaiden and Cat come running over, their footsteps thudding against the ground. They manage to pry her off of me and drag her into an empty classroom.

Kaiden’s grip is tight on Becca’s arms as she struggles against him, her body shaking with anger. Cat quickly hands me some paper towels before shutting the door behind us.

Kaiden looks between us, his eyes wide in shock. “What the fuck is going on? It’s not even eight in the goddamn morning.”

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