The Bully's Princess

CHAPTER TEN- THE QUESTIONS

Dread filled Peter’s mind as his phone continued to ring in his pocket. He knew he was treading on a dangerous zone, ranging from the frequency with which his phone rang. His father must be drunk by now, and it would be best if he avoided him.

"Will you follow us to the grocery store, Peter? I need to get some stuff for Dahlia. " Granny Jane called as she moved about in the living room. She was moving so slowly. Peter knew she would require help with her grocery shopping. She had a habit of buying in bulk to save her the stress of making multiple trips since she lived alone.

Peter cast a glance at Dahlia's shy form, before settling his gaze back at Granny Jane, who was oblivious to his peril.

"Sure, I will come along." He could not deny Granny Jane the favour that she asked for. So he tagged along. His father would have to wait.

Soon they were all packed into Granny Jane’s car, with Peter in the passenger seat and Dahlia at the back. Peter stole a glance at her in the rearview mirror. She was sitting so pretty, like a soft china doll. He wondered if she had ever faced any crisis in her short life. His own life was in a lot of turmoil, and he had no way of getting out, at least not yet.

The local mart store was filled with people by the time they got there. Peter saw that Dahlia huddled close to Granny Jane, who held her likewise like an expensive designer handbag.

He trailed lightly behind them as they walked to the rack and picked up an empty shopping cart. Dahlia neither picked a rack nor got close to the section at all. Feeling irritated by her actions, he waited for the perfect moment to give her a shock. Just then, she looked his way, and he smiled sheepishly at her. She smirked, clearly not buying it.

Granny Jane walked up to him, slapping him out of his wicked thoughts.

"Can you help out here, boy? I did not bring you with me just so you could stare at Dahlia all day. I know she is a beautiful one, but please do let your eyes help with the grocery picking instead. " She patted him on the shoulder and walked off with a shopping cart, not giving Peter the chance to refute her claims.

If only she knew the reason why he stared at her. Dahlia gave him her tongue as she ran after Granny Jane and hooked her hands with her.

Pissed off, he took a shopping basket, roughly earning himself a disgusted look from other customers who stood by. His face was both familiar and unusual to those around him, so he was no longer surprised by the reactions he received whenever they saw him. In fact, he was used to it. He had gotten himself used to the reaction ever since his mother left. And his father was not much of a good example.

He took the cart and followed after Granny Jane, who was now greeting an elderly woman just like her. They stood chatting with all their vigour. He went close and unhooked Dahlia’s arm from Granny Jane’s so swiftly, she had no chance to resist him.

He waved at Granny Jane as he half dragged her away.

He gritted in her ear. "You had better get moving, if you don’t want to be the laughing stock of the town."

Dahlia stopped, trying to pry his hands off hers in order to release herself. She struggled endlessly with Peter smiling down at her.

"I just love to see you squirm."he said loving the way, she was so easily riled up.

"You are sick," she spat back at him.

Peter's smile slightly turned to a frown at her words. Insults were a thing he heard daily from his father. He could never tolerate another person throwing one at him.

"Oh really, I will show you what sick is," Dahlia gasped as she was bodily carried up by Peter and dumped into the shopping cart. When Dahlia's head hit the cart first, her hands went to the back of her head to protect herself. Off Peter went, driving the cart insanely from one shopping section to the other.

Everyone in the mart was giving them strange looks while the mart assistants pursued after them, asking him to get her out of the cart as Dahlia’s screams rejuvenated all over the mart.

By the time he stopped the cart, Dahlia was just barely catching her breath. Her hair was scattered all around her face. She was breathing heavily and panting heavily. Granny Jane came around him and gave him a whack on the head with a bag of chips.

"What is wrong with you? What set you off like that? I don’t mind any of your plays or ways, but not this. You can't just grab her like that. It is dangerous to her health. That was too wild. You could have injured her. "

"Sorry Granny," Peter said, schooling his face to look sober. He was, however, not sorry at all, and Dahlia got the full gist of that as he sent her a wink behind Granny Jane, which set Dahlia off into a screaming match. what he would give for her mother to see her in such a fashion.

"Peter, you had better stop that right now. Stop making the poor girl cry. "

"Gran, I'm not doing nothing. She was just screaming, and I honestly just wanted to play with her. "

"Don’t play with her, she is not a toy for goodness sake."

"She looks like one, maybe a pirated copy." Granny Jane sent him a stony glare, which finally made him keep his mouth shut.

Dahlia was helped out of the cart by one of the shopping attendants, who sent Peter a killing glare. He was sure no one knew why he would make such a beautiful angel cry. And that was his bone of contention. Peter was bad, but Dahlia was good. Even though she did nothing but cry and look pretty, like she was currently doing.

"That’s enough. Don’t mind that boy; his way is wild; he belongs with the beasts of the bush. He behaves like a caveman sometimes. " Granny Jane cooed, smoothing Dahlia's hair.

Dahlia finally quietened up, earning Peter a hitched ear. He rather liked her crying.

"Why did you stop crying? I thought you were going to keep on providing music for my ears."

The two women gave him a glare and walked off, while he went off to another section of the mart feeling deserted. He missed Dahlia all too suddenly. He would rather like to keep her close. She provided excellent sport.

He was about to go after them when he spotted his father entering the mart. Peter stilled for a second. He watched as he headed off towards the drinks section. He began piling all sorts of alcoholic drinks into his cart. Peter cringed as he stared at him. His heart fell within him. The bitter ache of sorrow hit him afresh. He knew just what sort of monster his father turned into whenever he drank.

"Hey, what are you doing there?" The Mart Owner, Mr Carter stumbled into him. He gave Peter a queer look.

"You had better not be thinking of stealing anything. I will be more than happy to call the police. "he said as he walked past

"Excuse me, I am not a thief." Peter threw back his head, his hands clasped in a fist beside him.

"Aren't you Mr. Blythe's son? Like father, like son, one is an alcoholic, the other a thief." The man said it with venom, his disdain visible on his face, which irritated Peter to no end. He could tolerate a dislike done without his knowledge, but never one done to his face.

Peter's nose flared. Though he could not erase his father's bad reputation, he had no interest in being labeled as a thief in Western Side . He swung the man a punch in response, but his hand was stopped in the air by his father, who came close.

Peter retrieved his hand as his father stopped in front of him. He never should have followed Granny Jane.

His father was wearing a peaceful smile alongside his bottles of wine. Peter took a closer look at the price range for each bottle. They were all quite expensive and not at all what they could afford. Something was fishy. If his father had that much money, then he did not get it honestly.

"That’s enough now, Mr. Carter. You don’t have to be mean to the boy. " Mr. Blythe said, coming to stand protectively at Peter’s back.

"Your boy is nothing but a nuisance, and you know it." Mr. Carter responded, not looking the least bit apologetic.

Granny Jane and Dahlia came around the corner. Immediately after Peter saw them, he wished he could disappear. He had no idea if she really thought of him. He had only ever heard the rumours. She might begin to hate him if she witnessed a scene such as this.

"What's wrong over here?" She shouted, and the situation was narrated to her. She turned to look at his distressed face.

"He did not do it. That’s all a lie. I know him, "she said aggressively as she the issue was relayed to her.

"I saw him try to steal the chips. It is something he can do.He caused the ruckus earlier so as to divert our attention," Mr. Carter said, blazing hot. He had a strong dislike for Peter and his father, and no one could deny that. The two would rather not go there, but since that was the only big mart in town, it was mostly flooded with the town’s people.

"And I said he did not. He looks apologetic and annoyed. Peter is not one to apologise if he is guilty, whether in expression or words."

Mr. Carter was having none of it. " I respect you, Miss Jane. But I am not condoling this young man in my store. I want him out. "

"Even if I am buying most of your expensive wines?" Mr. Blythe threw at him, bringing out his wallet and extracting more cash from it.

"What?"

"And I am paying cash." Peter was disgusted as Mr. Carter’s hard face degenerated into laughter.

"You are, after all, a customer; how could I possibly kick you out?"He said sheepishly, smiling reluctantly, his eyes fixated on the cash in Mr. Blythe’s hands.

You had better keep that in mind next time, Mr. Carter. I will not stand this embarrassment. Peter’s father brought out the cash and slammed it down on Mr. Carter’s palm. He proceeded to ring up his father’s sale by himself.

Peter groaned inwardly. He was highly pissed that his father thought it okay to just end the matter on money grounds.

Granny Jane grabbed Peter by the hand. " Come on, let’s get out of here. I must have picked the wrong day to get my groceries. "

His father, however, grabbed the other hand and tugged Peter over to his side. Dahlia’s eyebrow skittered between the two.

He will come with me, ma’am. I have some groceries I need to get for the house and I would like Peter here to choose his choice. " Mr. Blythe said pleadingly. He was nicely dressed and looked overtly presentable, unlike other days.

Peter shook his head, not wanting Granny Jane to give him up.

"Oh okay, but we came here together and I am leaving with him. You came here without him anyway, so you can complete it yourself. If you had not met him here, would you not have completed your grocery shopping by yourself? " She retorted, she didn't like his father, and Mr. Blythe was well aware of that.

Mr. Blythe was not giving up. He smiled so sure of himself. Peter gave his father a short perusal. Gone was the drunken ardor; his eyes were bright as well. Something was fishy and he would find out what it was.

Actually, you could ask him. I have been calling him for a long time now. I wanted to come pick him up at school, but he was not accessible. I had to go out without him.

Granny Jane gave him a sceptical look. She flickered her gaze to Peter for affirmation.

He could easily deny it. But he had something to discuss with his father, so he said the truth.

"Yes, Granny. He did call

She was disappointed as she said, " Alright. Do make sure to come by my apartment later and keep me company. I need to get home now with Dahlia. She has been out for so long. "

Peter gave Dahlia a brief glance; her mouth was open, observing the charade going on. He knew she was aware of the kind of person his father was. But no one knew his father occasionally abused him physically. Which was something Peter was going to put a stop to, sooner rather than later.

He just needed to find out how.

"Goodbye and sorry about earlier." He said the words as if he was not speaking to anyone in particular. But she only scowled back at him. He managed a smile at that. She still had her flare. At least she was not put off by the accusation that he was a thief. But it was only a matter of time before he knew before she joined the others in thinking he was a bad egg.

Granny Jane trudged her many carts to the pay counter. Peter helped her load them into her car before going back to help his father. He kept his head down throughout, not wanting Granny Jane to read his expressions like a book.

His father’s welcoming comment was enough to know he was back in hell mode. His sweet act had only been a charade.

"So what was your excuse for not picking up my call?"

Peter shrugged. "It was in silent mode. I didn’t know until later that you called

"Alright, I will just take your pathetic excuse. But be ready to accept your punishment when we get back home and you had best start finding your way back home, because I am not taking you in my car. "

Peter ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "This is not fair."

"Tell that to your mother, who left me for another man." His father shot at him.

"But I am not the one who left you. I am still with you. " Peter asked, tears staining his eyes.

Mr. Bylthe looked around them. They had started to gain attention.

"Don’t make a scene, or else I shall increase your punishment." His father said sternly

, "To hell with you." Peter shouted, and stormed out of the mart. Mr. Carter, the mart owner, looked at him as he left like he was some deranged kid.

He headed for no particular place. He had no idea about tomorrow. All he knew was, he could not continue like this. His father was too toxic for him at this level. He wondered how someone could be so mean and unfeeling. Half the groceries he bought were alcohol. something that made Peter swear he would never drink. He hates the way his father gets whenever he drinks.

As he stood in the parking lot, his father drove past him at a hellish speed. Peter jumped out of his way in time. He fell but picked himself up in time.

It was either his mother came back into his life or he would start planning on running away. He knew the former was impossible, and it was going to be more of the latter.

But what if he ran away? Where could he go? He was smart enough to think of a solution. His best bet would be Dahlia. He only hoped she wouldn't catch on to his plans since she was quite smart.

If he stayed with his father for another year, he might have stayed alive for much long