Twist of Fate (Kings of Chaos Book 6)

by Shyla Colt

  “Maybe they’re just covering themselves for when you leave?” I suggest.

  She sniffs. “And they just happen to choose the applicant who’s everything I’m not? Seeing her in all her Southern girl beauty felt like a punch to the gut. There’s no way that wasn’t meant as a dig.”

  I’m not stupid enough to tell her she’s being overly sensitive, but I’m thinking it. Taking the smart route, I remain quiet.

  “What do you think?” I ask cautiously.

  “It’s impossible to know without asking him.”

  She scowls. “He wishes.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “You think I should?”

  I choose my words carefully. “I would, but I’m not you.” I think of our own issues. “I take family relationships seriously. I don’t agree with or condone how you’ve been treated when it comes to the business, but I’ve seen the love that exists between you. That’s not an experience everyone gets to have.” I clear my throat. “Before my father died, we were in a bad way. My father wasn’t a nice guy. I didn’t realize that for a long time. He had a backward way of thinking, manipulated everyone around him, and knew how to let people see only what he wanted them to. I spent years worshipping the ground he walked on. I wanted to be just like him. So, I modeled my actions after his. One day I woke up and saw the sheer destruction his actions and words caused, and how much of my life I’d wasted. It divided my brother and I for a long time. Spencer saw him for the uncouth beast he was and did his best to guide me away from the dark path he had me on. I was stubborn and didn’t listen. I mean, no one likes their older brother telling them anything, especially when it’s against a parent.”

  “Jesus, Shayne.”

  “I’m not the sugar coating type. So when I say it was fucked up thinking, I’m not exaggerating.” I can see the curiosity in her eyes. Don’t ask me for details. I should come clean, lay it all on the table, and deal with the aftermath at once. My tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth, and my heart is pounding. My palms break a sweat.

  Reaching over, she places a hand over mine. “I’m sorry you went through all that. My family has plenty of flaws, but lack of love has never been one of them. I’m sure whatever your father’s flaws, he cared for you.”

  “My father’s favor was based on obedience and adherence to his set of beliefs. I think I knew that. It’s why I couldn’t hear anything my brother had to say.” I want to stop talking, but like a breached dam, I can’t stop leaking. “It’s something I’m not proud of.”

  “Is that why we never talk about your past?” Understanding shines brightly in her eyes.

  Unable to speak around the massive lump in my throat, I nod.

  “You can tell me as much or as little as you want to. Who you were has no bearing on the man I’m with now. Our past shapes us, but we get the final decision on who we become.”

  Her words are an unintended blow to my chest. I wish I could believe her, but some things cut too deep. There are invisible boundaries that once crossed can’t be repaired. Who you were has no bearing. The words go round in round in my head like a playground merry-go-round. If only this was true. We judge people all the time for things they’ve done. It’s impossible not to be tainted by our choices. Tell her.

  I squash the tiny, naïve, and misguided voice down.

  “Do you really think that?” I ask.

  “I have to. I don’t like the woman I was, and if I’m bound forever by the mistakes of my past, there’s no hope for my future, is there?”

  “The only person your decisions hurt were you. The universe isn’t going to punish you for that.” Cupping her face, I run my thumb up and down her high cheekbones. “Now I’d say we’ve let things get heavy enough, wouldn’t you? How about we do something fun and treat the truck like he-who-shall-not-be-named?”

  She snickers. “You’re picking up the language of my people. I’m so proud.”

  “Your people?”

  “Geeks, bookworms, nerds. You know, my peeps?”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I’m picking up what you’re laying down.”

  “We’ve all got a little geek in us. I’m just helping you get in touch with yours.”

  “Truly, I appreciate your concern,” I say dryly.

  She giggles. “It’s been too long since I heard that.”

  “It’s been a rough week.”

  “I won’t argue that,” I mumble, thinking about my visit to the L.A. chapter.

  “How do you feel about a night in with take-out? The last thing I want to do is make more food. I have a pamphlet from delivery services in my kitchen drawer.”

  “This happens often?”

  “I’m not even ashamed to admit it does. I love to cook, but after all day on a food truck you want to eat something you don’t need to prepare or clean up.”

  An hour later, we’re both in our pajamas on the bed with sushi between us and Underworld on the flat screen. It’s one of the more peaceful Fridays I’ve had and yet memorable. When I’m with Xia, I feel like I fit. What does that say? That I’m living under an illusion.

  The man Xia knows is a representative of the real me. It’s all the best I have to offer with none of the mistakes, drama, or heavy baggage. I’m digging the hole deeper for us with each day that passes, lying by omission and explaining it away because the very thought of her turning from me sends me into a slow panic. I’ve grown used to having her by my side. She grounds me and keeps me looking forward to the future.

  I never knew what it was to need someone until her. Perhaps this is my punishment, to love someone destined to eventually hate me. Hold on. Love?

  Shell-shocked, I go through the motions of eating and watching the movie as I search my emotions. Am I even capable of this? Until I can answer that question, I’ll live alone with my thoughts.

  Chapter Seven

  Xia

  “I have exactly what you need.” Looking up from the carton of cookie dough ice cream I’m murdering, I stare at Jasmine. I love her optimistic attitude, but right now I’m not ready to be cheered up. She waves a white piece of paper like she’s in the front row of church with no air conditioner.

  I grunt and shovel another ridiculous spoonful into my mouth. I’m not in the mood for cheering up. I feel like a bird with a broken wing, unable to fly and in desperate need of healing. The mucus and crying have upset my stomach, and irritation and lack of sleep have my eyes feeling like theirs glass in my retinas.

  I focus my attention on picking out the big chunks of chocolaty goodness. The explosion of yumminess perks me up. Professor Lupin was right. Chocolate does make you feel better. Who knew it works for Dementors and professors.

  “Xi.”

  “Wha? I’m listening,” I say around a mouthful of melting happiness.

  “I know you’re disappointed right now.”

  I swallow. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it. My hand was played too soon. Ellis knows I’m looking for a way out. Now he’s hired help, that I’m training, and I feel like my neck is on the chopping block. I feel like a turtle flipped on its shell and unable to find balance. I can put everything on the line, finance myself and hope I make enough back to launch properly, or continue the same way I always have working and trying to save. Except, I’ve screwed up the work environment. The air in there is a thick as molasses. I’m always waiting for my world to explode.” I shake my head.

  I feel empty. The loan didn’t go through. The longer I went with no word, the more I hoped for good news, now I’m in a weird limbo. I finished out my week with the boys and sank into a depression.

  “I think there’s a reason this happened.”

  I snicker. “Really? Are we still sticking with that universe has a plan line? ‘’Cause at this point I’m starting to wonder if God is telling me my father was right and I need to stay my behind right where I’m at.” />
  “I know you’re still reeling from the loan. I’m not trying to trivialize that. All I ask is that you look at this.” She flaps the paper again. “If you still feel the same way, I’ll yield. We’ll spend the rest of the weekend treating this like a breakup weekend.”

  Unless that’s a letter from Ed McMann telling me he’s got a Publisher Clearing house check, I don’t see what difference it’ll make.

  “Once I do, will you chill on the put-on-a-happy-face rhetoric?”

  “I will until Monday.”

  I nod my head. “Deal.” I don’t want to wallow in sorrow like a pig in the mud. I just need time to digest and regroup.

  “Fine.” After stabbing my spoon into the ice cream, I hold out my hand and take the paper.

  “Congratulations, Magical Munchies has been chosen to compete on Food Truck Wars?” I read the words out loud as I skim the email. “This says Magical Munchies has been accepted. I’ve never even heard of it before.”

  “It’s a local contest being put on by Q109. Local teams go head to head for a month to compete for a chance at winning their own truck. When I heard about it nearly six months ago, I knew I had to enter you. I’d nearly forgotten about it, and then this came to the email we set up for the Magical Munchies website.”

  Floored, I sit up straight on the couch. I’m being pummeled by a million emotions all headed in different directions. Choppy and slow, my brain glitches like a video being played on a server with crappy WIFI. It’s not over yet.

  “You willful, meddling, amazing monster,” I whisper.

  She cringes. “On a scale of one to ten, how angry are you at me?”

  “How could I be mad?”

  “I know this was pushing things, but damn it, you deserve this.”

  “What do I need to do?”

  “Sign the paper and send it back, and plan your final menu. We need to be prepared to slay this.”

  My head spins. “Can we get everything together in time?”

  “It already is. You have the social media sites set up, the shirts, the swag, and the family name. You’ll need to talk to your brothers though. You need a place to do a trial run for your recipes.”

  She’s right. Going in blind would be setting myself up for failure. My hands shake. I can’t pass this up, but I’ll be throwing down the gauntlet. The minute my name is thrown into the ring, my family’s phones will ring off the hook. The downside of being connected in the industry—every move you make is noticed.

  “I have to do this.”

  “Yes, you do.” Jas grabs my hand and squeezes.

  “Let’s look over the rules.”

  My second wind hits as I grab the opportunity in front of me with both hands and vow to aim for the moon. I scan over the rules. They’ll provide the truck. If you’re chosen, each team gets a week to sell and accomplish tasks. It’s all about who makes the bigger profit and the biggest splash across social media. It’s a lot of money to invest, and they’ll want to be sure. I lace my fingers and push them forward, cracking my knuckles.

  “Get me a pen.”

  “There she is,” Jas whispers. “The woman, my best friend, has given herself permission to be.”

  I smile up at her. “Let’s do this.” We fire up our laptops and begin to spread the word. Within thirty minutes, the news is out on every social media venue I have. The pandering for votes has begun. Leaning back, I watch the shared numbers rocket. It’s a matter of time until this gets back to my family. I might be the one in charge of marketing, but they’re not completely disconnected. I’ve made a move that will launch World War III. Consequences be damned.

  “I need to go see Ellis in person, which means I should probably change out of my pajamas.”

  She laughs. “Yeah, it might help.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “I can. This is going to be your year.”

  “God, I hope so, Jas. You don’t have to hang around.”

  “I don’t mind. I planned to be here all day, but now I’m sending you off with a pep talk.”

  “I won’t be long. I don’t want to lose my nerve.” I dress in preparation for battle. The ripped black jeans and white T-shirt topped with a cropped leather biker vest are my armor. I choose my favorite bracelets for luck and black booties with a jewel studded heel for extra confidence and height.

  I sink onto the vanity and study myself in the mirror. Despite recent stressful situations, I’m happier. I feel alive. Before I merely existed, stealing moments at a time where I truly lived. It was a half-life, a walking dream I couldn’t wake up from. This is better. Not easier, but worth it in the long run. I darken and sculpt my eyebrow with a brown pencil and move on to the foundation, choosing my colors carefully. I want to look untouchable, flawless, and fierce.

  I use a golden highlighter, black eyeliner, and black lipstick. I feel like an Amazon warrior with a fierce glow, sharp cheekbones, and full lips. The woman staring back at me in the mirror is one to be reckoned with. I rise and make my way back into the living room.

  “Feeling better? Because you look amazing.”

  “Thanks, Jas. I’m done with the self-pity. Thank you for allowing me the time to work through it though.”

  “I think a few days of sadness are entitled when a major plan falls through. Now you’re on to bigger and better things.”

  I hook my arm in hers. “Shall we?”

  “Why thank you, I think we should.” We exit the apartment, and I lock up. “How do you think he’ll take it?” she asks.

  “I’m not even going to try to guess. He’s done all kinds of things I wouldn’t expect from him these past couple of weeks.”

  “Good or bad?”

  My brow furrows. “I can’t tell. Hiring more people would be the logical thing to do if you know you might lose one of your staff members.”

  “This is true. You think he did it to be vindictive?”

  “I want to say no.”

  “I think you’re being paranoid. She shrugs. “I mean, he hasn’t told anyone else, right?”

  “Not that we know of.”

  “Trust me, your dad would’ve said something by now, and Casp has never been stealthy.”

  “You’re right. Do you think I have a real shot at this?”

  “Are you kidding me? You’re going to be the one to watch. You’re more than the face for Fresco or Smoke. You’re Xia Foley. The smart, funny girl who keeps them all in the loop and entertains them. You’ve built your own following. Think of Alton Brown. It’s his personality, flair, and knowledge that makes him so incredible. Not his actual skill. Half the time he outshines the cooks on his show. You may not realize it, but you have that. It’s why you’re so relatable to everyone.”

  “Alton Brown is interesting. Me, not so much.”

  “You’re an alternative black girl with green hair who wants to run her own unicorn themed food truck. You’re plenty interesting. You’re the Foley evolution, my friend. Your brothers follow in the footsteps of your father. In comparison, you are as different as it gets. The things you’ve got planned. The unique themes and cosplay specials are the ultimate blend of good food and pop culture. The folks in this town are going to eat it up.”

  “Do you think so? I just figured it makes sense to incorporate the things I love in some way. I mean I’d have killed for a butter beer truck. Of course, I can’t call it that. But a Wizards’ food truck that appears every now and then with specialty drinks and meals. How could I not?”

  “This is exactly why you’re going to succeed. You bring a new perspective to a crowded market.”

  “Thank you for always believing in me. You keep my dreams going even when I can’t believe for myself.”

  She smiles at me. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  We reach my car and hug. “Wish me luck.”


  “Luck.”

  I linger outside the boys’ home. Now it’s my turn to show up unexpected late at night. I lucked out; Casp isn’t even at home. Stepping out, I make my way up the driveway. I ring the doorbell and wait.

  The light turns on, and the door opens. Ellis blinks. “Holy crap … Xia?”

  I hold out my arms and curtsey. “The one and only.”

  “You look so different.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Huh? No, I just … I’m so used to seeing you in our uniform. I forget my baby sister is all grown up. I figured you were playing hooky today.” He steps back. “Come on in.”

  “Trust me, you wouldn’t have wanted me there today. I was a mess. I didn’t get the loan. Go ahead and gloat.”

  Frowning, he scrubs a hand over his face. “Xi, don’t be like that. I’m not happy that the loan didn’t go through. I don’t take pleasure in your sadness. That you think I would, tells me things are seriously off with us. I took your suggestion to heart. Casp and I have been acting like entitled, spoiled dicks. I get that. I failed at my big brother gig, and for that I’m sorry. I’ve always viewed you and Casp as mine. That comes with the age difference. When you were first born, I called you my baby. I’m sorry we’ve gotten so far away from that.”

  “Did you really do that?”

  He chuckles. “Oh yeah. I was proud and possessive. You’ve heard mom tell the stories.”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you remembered it.”

  “I was almost five when you came alone, I absolutely remember.”

  His words warm me as I follow him inside, taking note of his black T-shirt and plaid pajamas pants. “Are you dressed for bed?”

  “It’s been long days lately. Come on, let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll make you hot cocoa just the way you like it.”

  “And a snack?” I ask hopefully. My brother is no slouch when it comes to baking.

  He smiles.“And a snack. I have fresh spice cake.”