Barbie Bitch (Rejects Paradise 3)

Melissa’s hand slaps hard across my face. “You’re a liar,” she shrieks as Spencer rushes into my back and grabs my wrists, restraining me from making a dog’s breakfast out of her face.

“You know it’s true,” I tell her. “I heard all the fucking stories. I know how you and your husband paid her off to make that story disappear, but don’t you think it’s funny how no one has seen her since? Fucking suspicious if you ask me. I wonder what kind of damage a scandal like that would cause?”

Melissa glances around in a panic, staring at a horrified Laurelle though something tells me she’s horrified at possibly having her name involved in a scandal and not because of the news she’s hearing. “NO. SHE’S LYING. YOU CAN’T BELIEVE HER.” Melissa looks back at me. “You’re trash. I've heard stories about you, sleeping your way through Bellevue Springs. You’re just after a payday, but guess what? You won’t be getting one from me.”

I step a little closer and watch as she takes a hesitant step back. “Did I mention anything about wanting your dirty money? You’re a delusional bitch if you honestly think your precious little Jude is a good little momma’s boy. He's a monster. A rapist.”

She shakes her head so violently that I fear it will rock right off her shoulders. “You. Are. Lying.”

“Really? Do you want me to tell you how he drugged me, how he forced me up the stairs, how he shushed me when I tried to scream for help? How about when he hit me? Tore my dress and forced himself inside of me while I cried, begging for him to stop? That’s the piece of shit you’re defending.”

She watches me for a short second before her eyes begin to narrow. “You know where he is.”

I grin, not daring to hold back despite knowing that the boys must be shitting themselves right now, terrified that I might just say a little too much. “If I knew where that fucker was, I can assure you, he’d be dead. You better hope that you find him before I do because I will end him. No one gets away with touching me. Unlike the poor girl before me, you can’t buy my silence.”

With that, I storm over to Colton and rest my hand against the door handle. “Now, if you don’t mind, my boyfriend has already asked you nicely to fuck off. You don’t want to wait around to see how I’m going to ask.”

Melissa huffs while Laurelle stares on, shocked but also far too intrigued and I have a feeling that this news is going to spread like wildfire, but I don’t need to be ashamed, I should be proud to fight back. No one takes from me and gets away with it.

I will not be silenced.

With no other options, Melissa takes her sorry ass out the door, and just before I get the chance to slam it in her face, she shoots one hell of a nasty glare at me. “This isn’t over, Oceania Munroe,” she says, letting on that she already knows exactly who I am.

I grin wide, knowing damn well that I have the upper hand here, after all, I have her son rotting in the wine cellar dungeon. “Try me, bitch. I dare you to come for me.”

She huffs once again and just like that, she’s gone. The door gets slammed and by the time I turn back around, Laurelle is nowhere to be seen.Chapter 8My feet dangle in the warmth of the heated pool as the afternoon sun shines down on my face. It’s so damn relaxing out here. Any other time, I’d be loving it, but the emotions welling inside of me from tearing open the fresh scars is all too much to deal with.

It’s as though I was on some kind of emotional roller coaster ride. I went up and hit it hard when the adrenaline started pumping and now I’m coming down the other side, crashing and burning into a pile of nothingness.

I lean back against the polished concrete flooring and swirl my legs through the water. I’ve been sitting out here for nearly an hour. I was hoping that the peace and quiet in the fresh air would help me to store the memories away again, and lock the box, never to be looked at again, but it hasn’t. If anything, it’s only reminded me just how many fucked up issues I have right now, but what’s worse, I miss Nic.

I miss all my boys and I hate being apart from them. I hate that I can’t just call them and tell them to suck my dick. I hate that there’s a dark cloud that hovers above my head every time I think of them. I hate the secrets. I hate the lies.