Threat Read Online Free Page B

care that I'm tracking water all over his new hard
wood floors right now.
    I round the curve through the kitchen, nearly slipping in a puddle of
my own creation, and then come to a halt in the foyer.
    And that's when I see him.
    There's an intruder in the house.
    “How the hell do you turn this shit off?” Threat says.
    I almost choke when I see him standing there at my front door,
pushing every button on our security system. The door is wide open
and the windows are intact—so how the hell did he get
in?
    “A little help, maybe?” he shouts over the alarm.
    “What the fuck are you doing here?” I shriek. Because,
seriously, invading my personal space like this is not okay. Neither
is breaking into fucking houses.
    He covers his ears. “Can you just shut that thing up? It's
going to blow my ear drums!”
    I feel my blood pressure rising. I'm going to have to take some of
Dad's pills. In a huff I march over to the door, punch in the code
and listen as the alarm finally dies, thank God. I probably should
just let the cops haul him off to jail, but I can't stand that thing
for a minute longer.
    “Thank God, how do you put up with that shit?” he asks.
    “Uh, I know the code because I actually live here,” I
reply with a scowl.
    He looks down at me, his twisted features instantly straightening.
“Well someone's happy to see me,” he says, his eyes
dropping to my chest.
    Shit. I forgot I'm only wearing a bikini, and a bandeau at
that. It doesn't exactly leave much to the imagination. “Ugh,
stop,” I command him sternly, throwing my arms up over my
chest. “And get out of my house.”
    “I guess you knew I was coming,” he says, licking his
lips. “And you know exactly how I like a woman: wet and naked.”
    My eyes narrow. “You followed me home, didn't you? What
the hell is wrong with you?”
    “No I didn't follow you home. Have you forgotten I live here
now?”
    “No, you don't. Your mother hasn't even moved in yet! You
literally have seconds to get the fuck out or I'll have the cops haul
your ass back to prison!”
    “Okay, first, it was juvi. And secondly, you can't exactly get
someone arrested when they have a key,” he says. And out of his
hand drops a little gold house key, exactly like mine, which he
annoyingly dangles just inches from my face.
    This is like a nightmare within a nightmare. It's nightmare-ception.
    “No. No!” I shout as I turn and run up stairs. I grab my
purse from the floor when I make it to my room and shove my hand
inside, shuffling through all the random crap to fish out my phone.
Before I can even call my dad to complain I see his text message,
loud and clear across the screen.
    meant to tell u Janet gave her key to David
    so he can stop by and get situated this weekend
    hope that's OK?!
    No. It's totally not okay.
    I crash down on my bed, not caring that I'm soaking through my
comforter. I read the words over and over again and wonder if this is
my real life. Just a few days ago, I was graduating at the top of my
high school class. I was on my way to the most prestigious school on
the West Coast with a 4.2 GPA under my belt. Life was good—no,
it was great. And now, I have to deal with this shit. My childhood
bully is back from the fucking dead and invading my space.
    I guess there's no point in calling dad, since he seems to think
there's nothing wrong with me shacking up with a twenty-year-old
tattooed ex-con for the week.
    I'm on my own here and I'll have to deal with Threat and whatever he
has planned for me. Is it really that bad, or am I just making it
worse in my head?
    I'm pulled out of my reverie by a knock on the door. When I look up I
see Threat leaning casually against my door frame. “So wanna
give me the royal tour?” he asks, smacking on his gum.
    Speak of the devil.
    I glare at him from the edge of the bed. “Will you leave
afterward if I do?”
    He shakes his head. “I'm here for the week. Sorry, pookie.”
    That's what I was afraid he'd say.
    I fake a