Page 3 of With Spite

It was a great location, only a few minutes’ walk from the place where I would now be working, and there was some great eye candy four houses down and across the street from my own.

Unfortunately, the house also came with issues.

Those three issues being Lanny, Patrick, and Kurt Huber. The father and his sons who lived across the street from me were disgusting and thought it was fantastic to call me a “hot piece” every morning they saw me.

I was anything but a “hot piece.”

I was skinny, small, and frail looking at the best of times.

Having severe asthma meant that I couldn’t go and work out the way that I would love to do, because stress caused asthma attacks. I was also cold all the time, so I wore a lot of layers. Then there was the way my hair—auburn and long, almost to my butt—needed a trim.

However, I couldn’t go into places that smelled. So that meant I couldn’t go get a haircut due to all the chemical smells. Nor could I get my fingernails done or go into places like Bath & Body Works that had tons of competing smells.

I was, essentially, in my own sort of jail. Though instead of keeping me in, my asthma kept me out.

“The Hubers aren’t giving you any trouble?” Creed asked, voice disgusted.

I decided not to tell him that they asked me to show them my titties today and instead said, “They’re being quiet so far.”

Lies.

But he didn’t need to know that they gave me the creeps.

I signed the lease for three months, which would hopefully give me time to find my own place.

In the meantime, I’d just buck up and not share that they were gross.

“Never were when Birdee lived there,” he grumbled. “Maybe it’s because she was so mouthy to them.”

Birdee snorted. “Oh, fuck off, Creed.”

Creed laughed and pulled her into his arms, and I was stunned at the change that came over his face.

Birdee was so good for my brother.

I was happy to see him finally happy, after all these years.

If anyone deserved to be happy in life, it was him.

“I’ll see y’all tomorrow,” I said. “Come into The Mercantile, and I’ll make you a sandwich.”

“Bye, sis,” Creed drawled as he yanked me toward him and gave me a back-breaking hug, the way only brothers could do.

I could do nothing but hold on until he let me go.

That only came when Birdee whacked Creed on the arm for crushing me.

I coughed slightly, and he looked at me worriedly.

I ignored him and walked to my new truck.

It was large, had four-wheel drive, and was expensive.

Three features that I’d never had before, but Creed had insisted that I get.

Something reliable with great safety features, that would also do great in the snow and ice.

Those things cost money, and I’d had to shell it out.