Spark ( Book 3: Stronger Series )

4. Play

For the next two days, I did everything I could to piss off Hank and Benito. It was actually pretty entertaining to see their faces heat up with nowhere for the rage to go. They couldn't take it out on me. The most they could do was lock me in my suite, which was where I wanted to be anyway. I considered it a double win.

The cast on my wrist was finally removed, and it felt so good to have the damn itchy thing off. I had physical therapy exercises to complete for that as well, but it was worth it to make my wrist stronger. That was the only thing I complied with since it really did benefit me, but everything else, I flat-out fucking refused.

I refused just about anything I could. I didn't want to wear that dress or that color. I didn't want to watch that movie or listen to that song. I didn't want to leave my suite. I didn't want to go outside. I needed water. Never mind, I didn't need it anymore. The soup is too hot. Now, it's too cold. I didn't break it. It must have fallen on its own. Can you not breathe so loudly? No, you shut the fuck up. I mean, literally anything.

I was officially six years old again, and I found it funny as fuck. I'd never mouthed off so much in my life. I'd catch myself laughing out loud at their hilarious misery, especially since there wasn't shit they could do about it.

"Piss me off one more time, little girl, and I swear I'll have Darren on the phone so fas—"

I laughed. "So you can tell him what? How incompetent you are at handling me? Good luck with that conversation."

Benito went so red in the face, I thought he was going to explode like a giant tomato. Too bad Hank was too busy taking a piss break to see it. And still I just laughed and walked away; but this time, Benito actually crossed a line.

In a fit of uncontrolled rage, he grabbed my still healing wrist in a way too tight grip as I turned my back on him. I yelled out loud in pain like a wounded animal, attempting to pull away from him, but when he didn't let go, and the pain only worsened, I did the only thing I could do.

"Let go!" I shouted and swiftly brought my leg up, and roundhouse kicked him right in the side of the head as hard as I could.

The moment my foot collided with his skull, he immediately released me and nearly fell to the floor, while I clutched my ribs like I had just been punched in the side.

Fuck. Okay, no more kicking for a while.

When Hank returned to see me hunched over against the wall and Benito counting the stars circling his head, he went nuts.

"WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!" he shouted at us.

I chuckled, even though it only caused more pain to my ribs. "Benito just learned what happens when you fuck with the wrong girl," I replied with a smirk.

Hank quickly turned to Benito in rage-filled confusion. "What the fuck did you do?" he yelled at him. By now, the nearby staff was starting to poke their heads around the corner to witness the commotion.

"Nothing. Little brat started mouthing off again and tried to walk away."

"Yeah, and then you yanked my healing broken wrist, you fucking idiot," I retorted, holding my wrist up. I could see bruises forming where his fingers had wrapped around my pale skin. Fabulous.

"Let me see," Hank said, rushing over to me.

I held my wrist out for his examination but kept my eyes on his face. He knew this was bad. A guard touching me was bad enough, but bruising something that was already damaged and healing was even worse. He knew they were in trouble, but I wasn't stupid enough to think I was home free. I was nothing but an instigator anyway.