Girl Next Door - The Complete Series (30 page)

I pulled my car into the carport after church and sat there, staring at the back wall. Church seemed like an eternity. Normally I enjoyed the music and the service. I was raised in the church, and I believed.

Today, though, I just couldn’t focus on the message. My mind kept going back to the ugly things that Grayson had said to me. I couldn’t believe that I had been so blind. I chose to date Grayson because he seemed so different from the men I usually had relationships with, but, in the end, he was just like the rest of them.

Actually, he was worse. All he cared about was getting into my pants. The last two months had been nothing but a long con to him. That, I did not understand. I was a woman, an ordinary woman. I mean, I knew some men found me attractive, but I had body issues just like any other woman. I couldn’t fathom a man so focused on sex waiting for two months in the
hope
I would sleep with him. Most men I knew wouldn’t wait two weeks. If the girl didn’t put out before then, they dumped her.

That had been why I kept dating Grayson. He hadn’t pressured me at first and he seemed to understand my need to take things slowly. Instead he had only been telling me what I wanted to hear.

Feeling more exhausted than I had in a long time, I dragged myself out of my car and into the house. The first thing I did was go back into my room and change into my sugar skull pajamas. After this morning’s insanity, I wasn’t leaving my house unless the zombie apocalypse descended on the DFW area. I might not leave even if Dallas was overrun with scores of flesh-eating undead.

I went into the kitchen and poured myself a large bowl of Lucky Charms. I wasn’t even sure why I was moping, especially since I hadn’t particularly wanted to continue a relationship with Grayson.

Okay, so that was bullshit. I knew exactly why I was moping. Well, sulking. Once again I had chosen the wrong man. By purposefully avoiding the type of men I was normally attracted to, I had still managed to choose another one even worse. Maybe I should just convert to Catholicism and enter a convent. Or move to the wilds of Wyoming. I wouldn’t have to shave my legs at either place, and that sounded pretty damn good right about now.

I hopped up onto my counter and started digging into my cereal. I reached into the cabinet behind me and grabbed a glass. On the shelf above the glasses, I kept a few bottles of hard liquor. I chose the bottle of Rumchata since it would complement my cereal and poured a healthy amount into the cup.

Since I sat right next to the fridge, I just reached into the top freezer, grabbed a few ice cubes, and dumped them into my drink. My mother would be aghast at me drinking on a Sunday, especially hard liquor before four in the afternoon, but I was depressed and I wanted to drown my sorrows, as clichéd as it sounded.

I drained the first bit I poured and filled the glass half full again. I spooned some more cereal into my mouth, followed by another huge swallow of Rumchata. I dipped the spoon back into my bowl and froze when my doorbell chimed.

Oh God, not again. After Grayson’s surprise this morning, I was not up to any more visitors. With a deep sigh, I hopped off the counter and went to the front door.

I peeked out the window by the door and didn’t see anyone on the porch. Frowning, I opened the door and saw the flaming brown paper bag on my steps. Seriously? Egging yesterday and flaming bags of dog poo today? I looked around but didn’t see anyone nearby. Not even a car was parked on the street.

I shut the door and trotted into the kitchen to fill a glass with water. No way was I stomping on that fucking bag. I went back outside and doused the fire. I guess I would have a chat with the principal at the high school tomorrow. I don’t know how the kids found out where I lived, but this needed to stop.

Once the bag was out, I just stared at it for a second. Shit, I needed to get it off the porch. I went back to the kitchen and grabbed one of the empty Target plastic sacks I collected and rarely used. I kept a pair of crocs next to the front door for when I would go out and water my plants. I slid my feet into them, walked around to the storage area at the rear of the carport, and unlocked the combination lock on the door. I grabbed a shovel and went back to my front steps.

As I scooped up the bag, I was tempted to toss it over onto Troy’s porch, but I didn’t follow through. I wasn’t sure what exactly was happening between Troy and I. Because of that confusion, I didn’t want to stir things up any more than they already were.

Instead I put the paper bag inside the plastic sack and tied the handles together tightly. Then I dumped it in my City Waste trash can. I put the shovel away and went inside to wash my hands.

Dealing with such a nasty chore had caused my appetite to disappear completely. I took my half-empty bowl of cereal and poured it down the disposal. The need to get inebriated had intensified, so I snatched up my glass and drained it again. I put a few more ice cubes in and poured another hefty serving.

Taking my glass and the bottle I went into my living room and turned on the television. My flat screen was fancy and very high-tech. It had been a gift from my then-boyfriend for Christmas last year. I think he was more upset about losing the TV in the break up than he was about losing me.

I realized that I was becoming a world-class couch potato. If I spent any more time holed up at home, watching movies, I would need to be surgically removed from my sofa. I flopped down on the cushions and decided I would take the rest of the day to wallow. I would stop being so pathetic tomorrow.

I had access to my Netflix account through the television, so I started scrolling through movies and put on the most gruesome horror flick I could find. It certainly suited my mood. I wanted to see someone get mangled. If I couldn’t get my hands on the prankster who was making my life more difficult, I could at least watch someone else get flattened.

I started the recent remake of
Evil Dead
and sipped my drink. After I finished the movie, and half the bottle of Rumchata, I decided I should put something else in my stomach besides alcohol. I stood up and swayed on my feet a little.

Damn, my buzz was more intense than I thought. I decided to lay off the alcohol. Right now I was feeling extremely warm and cozy. Too much more liquor and I would be flat-out drunk. I wandered into the kitchen and threw together a simple ham and cheese sandwich on wheat bread.

After I finished it, I popped a hot chocolate pod into my fancy coffeemaker and made myself a big cup of hot chocolate. My mood was still pretty funky, even with a half bottle of Rumchata in my gut, so I decided to have a movie marathon instead of doing chores. I found another gory horror movie and settled on the couch with my hot chocolate and a soft chenille throw.

Two movies later, it was dinner time and my buzz was almost completely gone. I decided to order in Chinese food and go to bed early. My day had started out shitty, and I figured a good night’s sleep would help get rid of the dark mood that had followed me around since the morning.

Unfortunately, the day wasn’t through kicking me in the teeth. When the teenage delivery driver saw me, he stared at my very unsexy pajamas and smirked.

“What happened to your car?” he asked.

I frowned at him in confusion and stuck my head out to look over toward my car. I could see scratches marring the paint on my rear fenders and part of a word scrawled on the trunk. What on earth?

I shoved past the delivery guy and ran over to the carport. The entire driver’s side and rear of my vehicle were covered in scratches and crude words. The passenger side wasn’t as bad. The vandal had only gouged a deep scratch down the entire length of the side.

On the driver’s door, however, the word
WHORE
was written out in huge letters with an arrow pointing upwards to where I would be sitting if I were driving.

“Dude, that sucks.”

I just stared at the delivery guy. He was absolutely right. This did suck.

He started to inch back, probably frightened by the expression on my face. “Um, I’ll just leave this on the porch for you,” he said, lifting the bag in his hand. “Don’t worry about the tip.”

I watched as he scurried to the porch and dropped the food as quickly as possible. Then I turned my gaze back to my car again. My Hyundai wasn’t anything fancy, but it was mine. I bought it while I was in college, and it had been with me for nine years.

“What happened?”

Troy’s voice in my ear made me jump. This was the second time he’d snuck up on me. Of course, I think I was entitled to be a little distracted after the day I had.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. The Chinese food delivery guy noticed it.”

“Bitch even got your tires too.”

I looked down and walked around the car. Sure enough all the tires were flat. Shit. There was no way I could drive this car tomorrow.

“I guess I better call my insurance agent,” I said dully. “I’ll need a rental so I can go to work tomorrow.”

“You also need to call the police,” Troy said.

This brought my attention back to him. “What?”

He gave a heavy sigh. “You have to call the cops, Amy. Your insurance agent will probably insist on it anyway.”

“But it’s just kids,” I started.

“Goddammit, Amy, it doesn’t matter who did it. I can understand why you didn’t call the cops about the egging but you have to call them now. Your house and car have been vandalized twice in two days. If you don’t call the fucking cops, I will.”

“Why would they listen to anything you have to say?” I asked sarcastically. I mean, come on. He smoked pot and it was obvious he wasn’t a squeaky clean law-abiding citizen who went to church every Sunday like I did. “You smoke pot in your backyard every couple of weeks. Are you sure
you
should be calling them?”

“What?” Troy roared. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I don’t smoke shit in my yard, not even cigarettes.” He advanced on me, looking furious. Before I could do the smart thing and retreat, he was on top of me. “And the cops will listen to me, sugar tits, because I am a fucking cop!”

I stared up at him, completely confused and scared out of my mind.

“And don’t look at me like I just killed your fucking puppy. I’m just pissed because you don’t know me at all, but you’ve already passed a whacked out judgment.” He rubbed his hands through his hair violently and turned away from me. “Fuck!”

He whirled back around and pointed a finger at me. “Do not fucking move. I’m calling this in. After we get this taken care of, you and I need to have a serious conversation.”

He stomped off toward his side of the duplex, I assumed to get his phone. As soon as I heard his door slam, I ran to my porch, grabbed the Chinese food, and stuffed it in the fridge. I bought a ton of food, and I wasn’t going to waste the money by letting it spoil while I dealt with this crap.

When I came back outside, Troy had returned, phone to his ear, and he glared at me. I shrugged and rolled my eyes. I wasn’t going to sit and stay just because he told me to in a stern voice. I wasn’t a freaking dog.

He took the phone from his ear and disconnected the call. “I told you not to move,” he said to me.

I didn’t back down. “I wasn’t going to let the food go to waste. All I did was take it inside and put it in the fridge.”

Troy didn’t continue to argue, probably because he knew it wouldn’t do any good. “A patrol car will be here soon. You need to give a statement about what happened yesterday. I will corroborate it. If there is any further activity, you need to have all this documented in case they catch the perp or she escalates.”

The pronoun he chose caught my attention. “That’s the second time you’ve insinuated that whoever is doing this is a woman. Why do you think it’s a woman? It could easily be a guy. Well, likely several teenage boys.”

Troy shook his head. “I know that you would think it’s the most likely scenario, but scorned women tend to destroy cars and write epithets like
whore
.”

I scoffed. “Stereotype much?”

“Just stay close and keep quiet. I am holding onto my temper by a very thin thread. Do not push me.”

He turned his back to me to face the cruiser that was pulling up in front of my house, and I stuck my tongue out at his back. At the expression on the officer’s face, I had to laugh. After the day I’d had, that was something at least.