Hell On Heels(52)

“I don’t know, can you?” I narrowed my eyes and considered teaching her a lesson. I had never done anything to her and she was as mean as a snake. Maybe I would give her a gnarly case of acne or perhaps relieve her of her blonde flowing locks. She was so nasty at school I was itching to do something ugly.
“What do you want, Dixie?” she sneered. “This is my dad’s store, among others, so of course I can help you. Do I want to help you? No. Do I have to? Yes.”
“What in the Hell did I do to you to make you act like such a gaping hole?”
She stopped dead in her tracks and looked confused for a moment. “I don’t know.” She shrugged to hide her confusion. “I just hate you.”
“Well, that’s lovely,” I retorted with cold sarcasm. “At least I have a reason to hate you.”
“Why?”
Was she serious?
“Because.” I smiled and flicked her golden locks. “You’re a bitch.”
She opened her mouth to impart some kind of sage wisdom but got cut short.
“Lucy Adams,” a male voice roared from the back storeroom. It sent a chill up my spine and I was from Hell.
“You should leave,” she hissed as she frantically pushed me toward the door.
“Can I do anything?” I whispered. I was desperate to get her out of this place, not to mention myself. My fingers tingled. I could feel my power increasing, feeding off the anger, fear and imbalance in the shop.
“Get out,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “My father is not your problem.”
“But,” I started.
“Out.” She colored fiercely. “You’ll make it worse.”
She was about to cry and I was completely undone. My fists clenched at my sides and the tingling in my fingers increased. Why was there such a sense of evil in this place, and why hadn’t I noticed it when I walked in? My heart pounded furiously in my chest as I turned to leave.
When she was satisfied I was going, she turned and ran into the back room. I plastered myself against the wall by the entrance and waited. What was I going to do? I had no idea, but I knew I couldn’t just leave.
The first thud and gasp made my stomach roil. The second punch and the crying and moaning made my heat rush through my body with a violent jolt. The third made me go numb. Fathers didn’t do this to their daughters. Rage flew through my body and burned for release. I knew I could stop this Hell on Earth. I cloaked myself with invisibility and carefully made my way to the back room.
The sounds were bad, but the visual was far worse.
Lucy Adams lay in the corner of the storeroom curled into a ball. Her lip was bloody and her eye was swollen shut. She clutched her stomach and moaned quietly. Her eyes were glassy and she stared into nothingness. She looked like a beautiful broken doll.
“When I call you,” her father shouted as he gritted his teeth in fury, “you will come.” He stood about six feet tall and was a big burly man. He’d probably been handsome in his youth, but the years and anger had ravaged his looks.
“We had a customer, Dad,” Lucy whispered faintly.
“I don’t give a goddamn,” he said harshly and laughed. He reared his foot back and slammed it into her stomach. He seemed sickly comfortable with the move.
Her eyes rolled back into her head. She bit down on her lower lip, drawing blood, but refusing to scream.
He glared at her. “You’re as useless as your mother was.”
Her lower bloody lip trembled as she returned his glare. “She’s lucky she’s dead.”
“Well,” he growled, “we can certainly remedy that.” He went to kick her again with his steel-toed boot.
My power had reached such a frenzy from all the evil and hatred and fear, it was use it or lose it.
Still under the cloak of invisibility, I pointed to his stomach and shot a massive dose of acid-like energy there. He screamed in shock and doubled over, slamming his head on the table as he went down. That was an unintentional bonus. Blood gushed from his hairline. I knew the excruciating stomach pain would last about four hours. How did I know that? No clue. . .I just did. Four hours of Hellish pain wasn’t enough for a bastard like him, but it would have to do for now. I couldn’t give myself away, but I wasn’t quite through yet. I pinched my fingers together like little chompers. I repeated the motion, gaining speed and grinned delightedly as he started to slap at his body while still writhing around the floor in agony.
The feeling of slimy pinching bugs would stay with him for about twenty-four hours. I was tempted to go farther, but the utter shock on Lucy Adams face made me stop.
She stood slowly, a bloody bruised mess, and cautiously made her way out of the storeroom, never taking her eyes from the revolting man she called her father. The minute she hit the shop she ran and she didn’t look back.