Read Better Off Dead : A Lucy Hart, Deathdealer Novel (Book One) Page 8

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  People whirled by in blurred colors and shapes as Lucy sat alone in the booth closest to the side entrance. That’s where Gram would pick her up. It wasn’t the main entrance to McDonald’s, so it was where the least amount of people could see her.

  The globs of special sauce on her chin and ear were easy enough to remove. She’d tried unsuccessfully to clean the special sauce from her shirt; the goop had soaked into the fabric. She could have asked if someone had a shirt they could loan her, but she was so tired, and her arm was throbbing incessantly. She sat in the booth and shivered as the air conditioning made the special sauce cold on her chest.

  She was glad though. Glad that at least that that had been the worst of it. Her birthday had delivered pain and degradation in spades. Now all there was to do was go home and take a long hot shower, and then crawl into bed.

  One of the blurs of movement stopped right in front of her, and she looked up to see a beautiful couple in a lover’s embrace, kissing like it was the end of a big budget romantic comedy.

  She closed her eyes. At least someone’s getting it right. But when she opened her eyes again they stared down at her with mirrored expressions of revulsion on their faces.

  Their faces... so familiar... oh crap!

  Lucy’s ex-boyfriend, Jeff Haas, and her ex-best friend, Tara Minger, stood clutching each other, the looks of shock and horror clear and nightmarish on their faces. But Tara didn’t remain shocked for long. And with a practiced and horribly malicious smile, she held her perfectly manicured hand to her chest—the chest that had magically grown two cup sizes in six months, and clad in a thin silk sweater that looked like it had been woven onto her body by the demented monks of Playboy magazine.

  “Lucy Hart... is that really you?” She turned her head and made with a faux embarrassed bat of her eyes lashes. “Omigod! I so thought you were just some homeless person.”

  Cold tingles ran down her arms, and her heart literally fluttered in horror. The only thing that warmed her was the burning sensation that had bloomed across her face. She took a breath, ready to say something, but then she got a look at Jeff.

  Jeff’s face wasn’t cruel, like Tara’s. No, the look on Jeff’s face knocked the air out of Lucy’s lungs and made each beat of her heart painful. It was pity she saw in her ex-boyfriend’s eyes. And as he looked away from her and then slowly shuffled away to the ordering counter, she could well imagine what he was thinking.

  How did she let herself get like that?

  I can’t believe I wanted to sleep with that.

  Thank god I didn’t... oh thank god...

  Tara stood there, lean and strong and so well dressed. Her hand on her hip, her long shiny blonde hair tossed with practiced perfection as she pursed her lips.

  “Lots has happened since you left.” She gave a happy little laugh. “Did you really have to leave town on a freaking bus?”

  Lucy felt the weight of the world pushing down on her, and that at any moment she would be pulverized into the vinyl seat of the booth. Please, she prayed, tears welling up in her eyes. Pulverize me now...

  “Oh well,” Tara chirped. “Back to the real world. I’m captain of the cheer squad now, and we’re so ready to go to state. I mean, I’m not knocking your leadership skills, but I know this is going to be our best year ever!” The manic cheerleader intensity in her voice spiraled in the air and practically dripped sparklers and confetti. But then her voice dropped to a smooth, robust growl.

  “And if you didn’t catch the show, Jeff’s mine now.”

  Even though she hadn’t let herself contemplate Jeff in months, she felt this horrible pang of despair at Tara’s words, and the cruel curl of her freshly glossed lips.

  She gritted her teeth and forced down the sob that was trying like hell to burst free from her lips.

  We were friends... how can you be so mean?

  She learned that from the master, an inner voice said. You reap what you sow.

  Tara leaned down closer to Lucy and the friendly smile evaporated. “And unlike you, I take care of my man’s needs.” Her eyes sparkled and the curl came back to her lips—she was enjoying herself.

  Tara’s voice pitched into a dangerous whisper. “And I’ve been taking care of his needs since the night your daddy got arrested.”

  Lucy stared hard into Tara’s eyes, and the heat in her face moved suddenly to inside her head. She sat up and glared into Tara’s big, pretty eyes.

  “Well then, he’s all yours,” she moved forward until their faces were almost touching. “But did he tell you what I had him doing when the FBI crashed the party?”

  Tara’s eyes opened wide and her mouth turned into a grim line. “What do you mean?” She stood up straight again and glowered down at her.

  “Just... if Jeff really is yours, then he’ll tell you what we were doing that night.” She smiled even though her head throbbed and her arm screamed for mercy. “And if he really is all yours, then he’ll let you do it to him, too.”

  Tara huffed and folded her arms over her surgically enhanced chest. “Why would I want to play one of your tired old games? I already said I’m satisfying all his needs.”

  Lucy leaned back, exhausted but feeling the old satisfaction she’d get from manipulating other’s lives. “Well, every need but... that one.”

  Raw anger drew a hard blank stare on Tara’s face. It made Lucy feel just a tiny bit better. Impoverished, working at McDonald’s, covered in special sauce, she could still knock someone down a peg or two. But then Tara’s smile came back, and it wasn’t fake. She was suddenly very happy.

  “Too bad your convict father left you so high and dry you have to work in a grease pit like this.” She flipped her golden locks as she turned to walk over to where Jeff stood mute, and still red-faced embarrassed. “You used to be so pretty.” She stopped and slowly peered over her shoulder at Lucy, her smile brilliant. “Have a nice life, you dumpster-diving freak!”