Chapter 4

When I got to the truck, the first thing I saw was the interior. And my blood began to boil.

The once clean, practical cab of the F-150 had been transformed. There was a fuzzy, bright pink steering wheel cover. A cheap, sparkly air freshener in the shape of a crown dangled from the rearview mirror, and a collection of stuffed animals was crammed against the back window. But the worst part was the vinyl sticker plastered on the passenger-side dashboard. In curly, glittery letters, it read: "Brittany' s Ride. Hands Off, Bitches!"

I felt a surge of pure fury. She had taken the truck I bought for my brother' s business and turned it into her personal, tacky plaything. The sheer entitlement was breathtaking.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. It' s Tom' s truck to use, I reminded myself. I gave it to him. If he lets his girlfriend do this, it' s his business. It' s tacky and disrespectful, but it' s his problem. I ripped the sticker off the dashboard, threw it on the floor, and started the engine, the roar of the V8 doing little to soothe my temper.

I was halfway to the mall when my phone buzzed with a message from Tom. I glanced at it at a red light.

"Why are you driving the truck? Brittany needs it. Bring it back now."

It wasn' t a request, it was an order. I was so stunned I just stared at the screen. I typed back a quick reply. "I' m running errands. I' ll be back in an hour. She can wait."

Before he could respond, another notification popped up. A friend request on social media from a "Brittany Hayes." I accepted it, thinking maybe she wanted to apologize or communicate like a normal person.

I was wrong.

A message immediately appeared. "Who the fuck do you think you are? I saw you ripped my sticker off. You jealous old hag. Get your hands off my property. Tom told me all about you, how you think you' re so much better than everyone because you have a little bit of money. Well, that truck is MINE now. He loves ME, not you. So bring it back before I call the cops and report it stolen."

I couldn' t believe my eyes. My hands were shaking with rage. This woman, who I had never even met, was attacking me with such venom. I tried to type a furious response, but before I could hit send, another notification popped up.

"Brittany Hayes has blocked you."

She had fired her salvo and then blocked me so I couldn' t even defend myself. I was fuming. I immediately pulled over and called Tom.

The phone rang once, then was disconnected. He hung up on me.

I called again. This time, it went straight to voicemail.

He was in on it. They were doing this together. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. They had planned this little ambush, this coordinated attack to put me in my place. I felt like the world' s biggest fool.

For a moment, all the anger drained out of me, replaced by a profound sadness. I sat in the truck on the side of the road and thought about all the sacrifices I had made for Tom. The late nights studying, the part-time jobs, the constant pressure to succeed so I could give him and my mom a better life. I remembered buying this truck, the pride on his face when I handed him the keys. I' d been so happy for him, so hopeful for his future.

How had that hopeful young man turned into this... this puppet? So weak that he would let his girlfriend attack his own sister, the one who had given him everything.

As I drove back home, the sadness hardened into something else. A cold, clear resolve. They thought I was just some "jealous old hag" they could push around. They had no idea who they were dealing with.