Page 19 of Distorted Obsession (The Distorted Trilogy #1)

portia

“Can you believe the look on her face?” I snicker, talking to Sarah as we leave the food court. “Tell me one of you bitches got it on video.”

Tricia hands me her phone. I hit play, watching in rapt attention. I cackle the moment Eva runs from the food court with her tail stuck up her ass. High saditty bitch. I bet she’ll remember who runs shit now.

“She deserves so much worse,” Candace seethes, and I drink the last of my fruit punch. Victories deserve celebrations .

Smirking, I roll my eyes and taunt, “Does Candace still have her pussy in a vice because Farrah never let you fuck her?”

“Fuck off, Portia. At least I’m not community pussy to get an ounce of the Jacobis’ attention,” she snarks back. “How’s that working out for you?”

My left eye imperceptibly twitches. It’s the only outward indication that her words hit a sore spot. I’ve had my sights on Colter and Cooper since my first year at Groveton, but I still can’t get past being a random hole when they want to fill one.

“At least they’re alive,” I snap. “Do you want me to dig Farrah up for you? I’m sure dirt pussy is all the rave these days.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

The blood in my veins turns to ice at the sound of Colter’s voice. I don’t miss the glee on Candace’s. The bitch knew they were behind me.

Narrowing my gaze on her, I silently promise retribution before I spin and face them. Nothing like stuffing her cunt with soil so she can be closer to her pathetic dead obsession.

“Coop, Colt, how long have you?—”

I’m cut off by the death stare they both give me. “Repeat what the fuck you just said, Portia.” This time, it’s an order. The Jacobis won’t let anyone move until I speak up.

“Um… I...” I pause, trying to think of something, but there’s nothing. Slumping my shoulders, I concede, “I was just…”

“Just what? You stupid cunt,” Colter seethes.

I take four steps back as they both step closer.

“Just talking shit about our dead sister?” Cooper asks.

Sensing the danger, I turn and run, refusing to stop until I’m on the outskirts of campus near the old mill road.

I stop once I know I’m alone, but I know I’m screwed. I won’t be able to show my face again. The Jacobi twins don’t forget, and they never forgive. My days at GC are over.

A drop of water hits my exposed skin, making me peer up at the now-graying clouds. Of fucking course it would rain. “Fuck you, Farrah Jacobi,” I scream, knowing the decaying bitch is somehow responsible for this.

The trickle of rain quickly becomes a downpour, and I’m soaked. My sandals, jean shorts, and white tank top are drenched.

Worst fucking day to not wear a bra.

Huffing, I turn back onto the main road just as a car passes. I start to run but slip, breaking the strap of my shoe. “Could this day get any freaking worse?” I shout.

Another car rounds the corner, and I wave my hands, hoping whoever is driving will take pity on me. But I should’ve known better than that. The SUV with the Jacobi plates drives through a giant puddle, splashing me with mud.

It begins to reverse, and I don’t wait to see what else those two psycho assholes have in store for me. I hightail it back to my dorm, not stopping until the lock is firmly in place.

I slide down the door until my ass hits the floor, heaving until I can get my breathing under control.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Portia? Those two have more eyes and ears than Homeland Security.”

Shivering, I stand, peel off all my wet clothes, and stride into the bathroom. There’s nothing a hot shower can’t fix. I’ll worry about leaving the country tomorrow.

I wait until the water is almost scorching before I step inside, letting the heat warm my chilled bones.

“Stupid ass Candace. Wait until I get my hands on that bitch,” I mumble, bending to grab citrus, honey mint, and eucalyptus shampoo and conditioner.

Pouring some into my hand, I begin to lather my hair, massaging my scalp and erasing the tension between my shoulder blades, and then start singing, “Ding dong, the bitch is dead. The spoiled little bitch lies in a ditch.”

I snicker at my made-up little poem as I stand under the spray, allowing the shampoo to rinse from my hair. I prepare to do another round, but then my skin feels hot—too hot.

My eyes fly open, seeing the welts trailing up my skin. “What the fuck?” I wheeze, stumbling from the shower to my medicine cabinet, where I keep a spare EpiPen.

“Such a shame,” someone tsks, shocking me still. “You never did know when to keep your trap shut, did you, Portia?”

My eyes bulge as my hand reaches toward the cabinet, only for it to be slapped away. I lose my balance, cracking my head against the floor, but I have no air to scream out in pain.

The person stands straddling me before they squat.

“Such a shame that nut allergy of yours leads to anaphylaxis when untreated. I guess I shouldn’t have put that unrefined peanut oil in your shampoo and conditioner.

” The person gloats, sinking down next to me.

It’s only then that I register the muted scent of peanuts.

I was so busy celebrating my victory, I missed the chance to save my life.

“Here I was trying to help.” They hold my EpiPen in reach before yanking it back

I try to lift my arm, but I can’t.

“That would be the muscle relaxers kicking in,” they hiss.

When?

“You didn’t even bat an eye when you gulped down your fruit punch,” they state, answering my unspoken question. “We can’t have you trying to save yourself, now, can we?”

Death—I’m looking into the face of death, and as I choke my last bit of air, they say, “Next time, don’t pass your place.” Then they bend over in laughter. “Oh, how insensitive of me.”

Gurgling, I will my body to move, but I can’t even blink.

Glee dances in their eyes. The same glee I was feeling a moment ago. Karma is a quick bitch .

Covering their mouth, they fake dismay as they drop their hands. The faux concerns morph into a sadistic smile. “I guess there won’t be a next time for you to learn from.”

Tears pool in my swollen-shut eyes. “Now you know not to play with those who don’t belong to you. It’s too bad this will be your final lesson, Portia. I’ll see you in hell, you stupid cunt.”

Then I’m alone, feeling the slowing of my heart and my inability to stop it. My system is confused. It knows we’re in distress, but nothing is firing to make me stop it. In the final moments, all I can think is… was this what Farrah’s end felt like?