***
The harps sounded again.I want the ring back. Bring it by tonight.
Rage welled inside of her, hotter than the blistering road. The sun no longer burned.
“Fuck.”
Holly rarely let herself use the ultimate profanity. As the expletive burst from her mouth, a valve inside of her soul released.
Fuck him.
Fuck his father, fuck her dependency, and fuck her making him the axis of her universe.
She wasn’t going to be his patsy, his best friend, his lover-but-not-really. Holly was done being his doormat.
She poked out the words to her return message. You want it, you get it yourself.
The harps sang with Blaine’s response. If you want to cop an attitude, that’s your problem, not mine.
Holly dumped the phone back into her bag. With the same hand, she removed the offending Batman comic she had bought for his gift. With deliberate, precise movements, she tore open the slick plastic bag. She gripped the front cover and with a surge of strength, shredded each and every page into tiny, multicolored confetti.
The story had been a steaming pile of misogynistic doo-doo anyway. She dumped the heaping pile of crap into the garbage can by the driver.
Hell.
She should have gotten her money back. The refund could have paid for her first vibrator.
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