Tough Sh*t - Sheridan Anne Page 0,80

of them scrambling around. A sick laughter comes from one of them and I hastily look around for some way out but they have me trapped.

I find Charlie jogging down toward us and Colton still lazily heading for his car in the distance. Stupid fucker. “What the fuck are you doing?” Charlie hounds only a few meters away now. “Get the fuck off my Ferrari.”

There’s movement to my side and I flick my gaze across to watch as one of them pulls out some kind of bottle. It’s dirty and the smell coming off it is enough to make me want to hurl. The guys all press into me, keeping me pinned.

I start flailing around as their plan becomes clear. The guy with the bottle uncaps it and meets my eye with a sick grin. He reaches up and in one quick pour thick, black grease drops down over my head, tangling into my thick hair.

I squeal as Charlie’s booming anger tears through the parking lot. The grease drips down onto my skin and it instantly starts to burn.

This isn’t just regular grease. They’ve put something in it.

I curl into a ball as the last of the bottle is tipped over my head. Their laughs and snickers are so fucking loud but I barely hear them over the sound of my fucking heart racing.

It hurts. It fucking hurts so bad.

Charlie starts hauling guys off me and as they're pulled off and my body is freed, I fall to the ground in a heap of mess. I expect Charlie to come after me but when he starts looking after his cherry red Ferreri, it becomes clear what his desperation was about.

Seeing the anger on his face, the five guys start running but it’s the last of my problems. There's some kind of acid in this grease and if I don’t move fast, I’ll end up with burns covering my skin.

Shakily, I get to my feet, leaving my bag laying on the dirty ground in a heap of grease. I start rushing toward the staff bathroom, pulling at my clothes and not even giving a shit that I don't have something to change into. I have to get in a shower and I don't fucking care if it means walking home in nothing but a towel. I’ll be okay as long as I can get this acidic grease off my skin.

The acid starts to really burn and I find myself glancing back for those fucking guys as I run. They’re all out of sight but I do find one set of eyes burning into me. Colton stands by his Veneno with the scissor door open wide and seeing that he’s caught my attention, he gently shakes his head and drops down into his car, dismissing me.

I don’t know what it is about Colton or why it bothers me so much. Maybe it’s because of the bullshit I just suffered through with those guys in the hopes they could get Colton’s attention for even a second or maybe it’s all the shit I’ve had to deal with since moving to Bellevue Springs. Whatever it is, it has tears springing to my eyes and violently falling in waves.

I crash through the door of the bathroom as a sobbing mess and race through to the showers. I throw myself in, clothes and all, turning the taps on as hard as they can go, desperate to get this shit off me.

The water comes down hard and it stings against my already raw skin, but I suffer through it knowing how badly I need this. Without it … fuck. I can’t even imagine.

I start tearing off my ruined clothes, leaving me in my underwear that mostly seems to be okay. Thick chunks of grease start rolling off me, but a lot of it sticks to my body like a second skin and I’m forced to scrub against my tender skin.

The tears continue rolling down my face and I find it hard to breathe through my thick sobs. I’m a fucking mess.

Once my skin is free of acidic grease, I start on my hair and find myself broken as chunks of my long luscious hair break off and pool at the bottom of the shower. I scrub furiously, desperately needing it gone. The longer it’s in there, the worse it’s going to get.

It takes half an hour of washing my hair and scrubbing my body and by the time I finally get out, I’m a fucking disaster. It

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