Deep (Heavy Hearts Book 2), Sarah Duncan [people reading books TXT] 📗

Shaun Bossier

A genius at being an idiot!

Simon Hastings

Shut up Bossi, at least I’m not too chicken shit to slip my hand down a chick’s pants!

Lexi West

Ah, guys? Maybe you can take this conversation somewhere else?

To a different chat, perhaps?

I don’t want to hear about where your hands have been.

Simon Hastings

In Bossi’s case, it’s where his hands haven’t been.

Shaun Bossier

Shut up, idiot!

Lexi West

Bye!!!!!!

I’m laughing as I put my phone down. I hate to admit it, but I miss those guys. I’ve always gravitated to boys, and no, I’m not talking about being attracted to them. I mean that I feel more myself around males. Well, those ones anyway.

With girl’s things always feel like a competition, or like anything I say will be used against me later in a bitch fight. Take Tasha, for example; whenever I’ve shown an interest in a new guy, it’s like she or Allison suddenly have an interest in the same guy. Last year I even pretended to have a crush on Travis. I succeeded in my little experiment to see that both girls went after him once I’d declared I thought he was cute and wanted to kiss him. If those girls knew me at all, they would know Travis is not my type. Eww! I was also with Nathan at the time, so why they thought I would stray is beyond me because I never have and never will be that type of girl.

Just thinking about Tasha and Allison irks me. I don’t know why I put up with them. It was Abbey that became friends with them and wanted to bring them into our circle. At the time, it was just me, Abbey and the boys. Things were so much simpler back then.

Anger still bubbles near the surface and thinking about Tasha and Allison isn’t helping. I need to get it under control before the guys get here. I consider another run or boxing bag session, but when my eyes land on the baseball bat by the front door, I stop thinking and just act.

With the bat firmly in my grip, I climb the stairs two at a time and storm to Mike’s bedroom. Lifting the bat, I start swinging at his door, the only door that still remains secured on its hinges upstairs. It’s not locked. I could have just opened it, but that would be too easy, and this fucker doesn’t deserve to have a door since he revelled in mine being taken away.

I slam all of my anger into each swing, growling screams bellowing from deep within me. My vision turns red as I splinter the door apart until most of it is gone, laying in jagged pieces on the carpet below. I don’t stop there, stepping into Mike’s room, I swing the bat at every piece of furniture or belonging he left behind.

When I’d first returned from Melbourne, I’d crept into this room looking for my laptop and phone but only found my laptop. It was then that I discovered he took his drug stash with him when he fled, which disappointed me because I would have loved to watch it flush down the toilet.

I’m so angry. Straight up, mother fucking angry. There’s really no other way to describe it. After leaving Ayden’s dad’s apartment, I walked around the city for about an hour crying, feeling sad and sorry for myself, all while fearing that my dad or brother would jump out from every corner I approached. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, the tears dried up and what was left was anger.

I’m angry at my mum for never loving me enough to put me first and for looking the other way when I know she must have known Mike was harassing me. I’m also angry at her for being too weak to see what her husband, my dad, was doing to her.

Speaking of, I’m angry at that arsehole of a so-called dad for leaving me to live another life in the city and for getting mad at me for calling him out on it when I interrupted him and his mistress. I’m angry at him for laying his hand on me with so much force that he left bruises. And I’m fucking furious that he so easily told my Principal lies and then drugged me to remove me from school so I couldn’t fight for myself and make a scene. Let’s not forget how he knew exactly what he was doing when he left me in the hands of his sick, twisted son and knowingly walked away without an ounce of regret.

That moment when he left me with Mike, that’s something I’ll never be able to forget for as long as I live. Mother fucking Mike! My dad’s love child. He’s always been odd and strange, and my dad left him in charge to teach me a lesson. The word angry doesn’t even begin to cut it when I think of the crude, vulgar things my half-brother did to me. Murderous is a good fucking word for it!

Nope, not even that feels right!

This anger, this rage that bubbles in my heart like molten lava, even extends to Abbey’s parents and their fucked up religious beliefs. The fact that even though the police had announced to the world that they are looking for my dad, her parents still believed the crap he told them about me being mentally ill. I need Abbey, damn it! What the actual fuck is wrong with them?

Ahhhhhhh!

Principal Ryland doesn’t escape my anger either! That chicken shit arsehole is just as guilty by letting my dad carry me out without even questioning things. If he had of been doing his job, then I would have never been put in the situation that led to Ayden having to rescue me and whisk me away to Melbourne to hide at his dad’s place.

Ayden… I try not to think about him, but I can’t help it. Out of all the fucked up shit that has happened to