Page 125 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
“They don’t, I promise. I may have had an extra shot of espresso in my third cup of coffee this morning.”
“That explains everything.” I grudgingly leave the blanket behind and follow her outside to the side door of the two-car garage. There’s a cute red sedan on one side but the other is partitioned off with thick plastic that hangs from the ceiling. Inside, a drop cloth is spread over the ground and pieces of fabric and porcelain cover the floor. On the wall is a variety of weapons, for lack of a better word. A sledge hammer, garden shears, a dagger, a bat, a golf club, and a few other sharp objects. A big plastic bin holds pillows, cushions, and random dishes and pottery.
“Thanks to the thrift shops, you can unleash all the omega anger on these without worrying about destroying my property. Safety first.” She points to an extra set of safety goggles sitting on a worktable.
I set the chip bag down and put on the goggles. Eyeing the wall, I grab the dagger. It’s heavier than I expected, but the weight feels right in my hand. Melanie claps and grabs a bigger cushion that was probably from some outside furniture. Setting it on the ground, she gestures me forward, her eyes lighting with excitement.
“This is the best part,” she whispers.
“Why are you whispering?” I ask, dropping to my knees like I’ve done this a thousand times.
“I don’t want to interrupt your moment.” She sounds so serious right now, like this is some sort of sacred ritual.
I wrinkle my brow and shake my head. “This whole thing is weird.”
“Stab it,” she urges, still keeping her voice soft.
Resisting a laugh, I scowl at the cushion. It’s an ugly puke green color and the fabric is rippled. The material would definitely leave marks on my legs if I sat on it while wearing shorts. The thought makes me irrationally annoyed, and I breathe in, savoring the unstable and slightly terrifying rage that comes at the thought of those stupid lines denting my skin.
“Fucker.” I stab the thick cushion, the blade sinking in deep.
“Harder,” Melanie whispers.
“That’s what she said,” I say on instinct, remembering Asher’s joke from the other day.
Melanie laughs, and I stab the cushion again, this time ripping it open from one end to the other. Fluffy foam-like material spills out of the gouge. I stab the material a few more times, growling when the tip of the blade snags on a string. Tossing the weapon away from where Melanie stands, I use my bare hands to begin ripping the cushion apart.
“Stupid.” Fabric tears and the guts of the cushion begin to drop to the floor. “Shit.” I shove my hand into one of the holes and rip the insides out. “Dick.” I shake the remainder of the fabric and pull it again. A satisfying rip cuts through the air, and I heave out a breath, throwing the scraps to the ground.
A soft giggle fills the air. I slide my gaze to Melanie. Her hand is covering her mouth and her shoulders shake.
“What?” I ask, bristling.
“Stupid shit dick,” she says around gasps.
“It made sense in the moment.”
“Let’s do another.” She grabs a big vase and sets it on a pedestal that’s bolted to the ground. “Hurry!”
I hop up and rush to grab a bat. “What’s the rush?”
She shushes me. “Hit it!”
Pinching my eyebrows together, I swing the bat and shatter the vase. Pieces fly out around the room, a few tinier parts hitting my goggles. I guess safety really does matter when you’re breaking stuff like this. I stare at the cushion and pieces of porcelain on the floor, a strange smile pulling at my lips.
“Good girl. A few more?”
I lift my gaze and nod.
She answers my smile with a cackle and a grin. “The rage is strong in this one.”
* * *
After destroying several things, Melanie and I have a quick lunch and I help her clean out her garden beds. She tried to get me to go back inside and rest, but now that I’m out of my blanket cocoon and not angry, I don’t want to be alone. We work side by side for a few hours until Avi shows up.
“Melanie, Whitney isn’t free labor.”
She takes off her gloves and smacks them against his arm. “She offered to help.”
