Tears and Other Fears

by Coralee June

  Officer Asshole was probably right, but that didn’t make me any happier. “Octavia, maybe you should tell them?” Noah suggested. I should have known he wouldn’t side with me on this. He never sided with me.

  “No. It’s Samuel Smith you should be investigating. He gave William those drugs, knowing it would kill him.”

  “And I sympathize with you, Miss Wilson. But you’re going to have to give me more to work with.”

  I gritted my teeth. “No.”

  Officer Asshole just stared at me for a long while, then nodded at Noah. “Well. I suppose we’re done then. Have a good afternoon, Miss Wilson.”

  I didn’t return the sentiment. I simply got up and let myself outside. Noah followed closely behind, and I could feel his anxiety pulsing at my back. It was heated and confusing.

  “What the fuck was that?” I asked once we were on the street. Taxis and men on bikes crawled by us, itching to get to their destination.

  “What the fuck was what?”

  “Why didn’t you side with me? You wanted me to tell them about…” I didn’t let Renon’s name leave my lips. I couldn’t trust Noah not to march in there and name drop like the journalists on TMZ.

  “I thought that’s what you wanted. Why are you protecting this guy? Does he mean something to you?”

  I let out a rush of air before thrusting a shaky hand through my hair. I felt off-kilter and anxious. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to protect Renon. The sex was good, but that wasn’t why I didn’t want to give him up. He was William’s ally, providing him with Prozac when he was too scared to go to the doctor. It felt wrong to turn him in. Not to mention, I owed the fucker. Even if I refused to admit it, even if the gun didn’t work and Samuel was too much of a pussy to do anything outright, Renon saved me that night.

  He didn’t deserve this. Samuel did.

  “I fucked him, yeah. Seemed like too good of a cock to let it waste behind bars,” I breezed before chewing on my nail. Noah openly took me in, those blue eyes of his seeing all the things hidden in my expression that I was too afraid to say.

  “You like him.”

  “I like lots of people,” I retorted.

  “Like you like Young? Like you like me? Like you liked Samuel? A lot of people have been entering your life lately. You have impulse control issues and get attached easily. I don’t want to see you get hurt, Octavia.”

  I fumed so hard I could have caught the concrete under my feet on fire. “You taught me all about the dangers of attachments, Noah,” I brooded.

  “You’re right. I hurt you. I fucked up. I made a poor decision, and you suffered for it. I don’t want to see that happen again.”

  I watched a businessman to my left flag down a taxi and get in the backseat. I then stared at a coffee shop nearby where a couple was sitting and sipping on caffeine. “It’s not going to happen again, Noah.”

  “How can you be sure?” he asked.

  “Because I learned my lesson. I don’t let people in anymore.”

  “That’s not a way to live, Octavia. I know you’re hurting but—”

  “I’m not hurting, motherfucker!” I screamed, interrupting him. Hurting seemed far too easy of a description for what I was going through; it was a cop out. People turned to stare at our showdown on the street. “I’m depressed! For some people, depression is like an empty room. For others, it’s a scream. For me? It’s like I’m up against this solid, concrete wall, and the only tool I have to bring it down is this fucking metal spoon stuck in my gut. I’m constantly digging through layers of flesh with my dull fingernails just to get to it, but I know it’s not enough. My sadness is like an out of tune flute playing a masterpiece. My anger is like bobbing for apples in a bucket of blood. Grief isn’t lateral—it’s a maze. And you dropped me in the middle of it.”

  Noah looked like I’d slapped him across the cheek. I watched my words sink in, my glorious breakthrough ripping him to shreds. Any average therapist would be happy; I finally spat out the feelings in my head, but Noah and I were never healthy. I crushed him with the truth, and I wanted to do it again.

  Chapter 14

  Sixteen hours, forty-three minutes, and seventeen seconds. That’s how long I gave Young to work through his issues. That was enough time, right? I’d decided that he’d been simmering in the boiling pot I’d given him long enough.

  Noah was sleeping on a pallet on the floor when I snuck past him and left the hotel. We got nowhere last night. No closure, no hate sex. Nothing. He just watched me fume and asked questions about life. I wasn’t prepared for my toxic therapist to actually start taking his job seriously.

  How do you feel about Young needing space?

  Describe your mental state right now.

  Do you want to talk about Samuel?

  My mental state was obsessed with Young’s need for space and Samuel’s fucked up selfishness. I never was one for saying the obvious and couldn’t for the life of me understand why Noah kept asking me questions we both knew the answer to.

  I never did walks of shame. I usually wore my rumpled hair and the shirt of my victims with pride. And even though I didn’t have sex last night, I finally understood what it meant to walk four blocks with a broken pride and pounding heart. I didn’t have to look in the mirror to know that my eyes were shadowed and my clothes were wrinkled. I was a mess of epic proportions, and nothing seemed right.

  Once at Young’s penthouse, I opened the door, using my key, and froze the moment I saw who was standing on the other side. Samuel motherfucking Smith. He was shirtless and cooking bacon when he whirled around to greet me. There was a content smile on his face, but it dropped the moment he saw me. “Octavia, what are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” I countered.

  “I live here. Dad was pissy last night—no thanks to you—so I came home.”

  I tilted my head back and laughed like I was some fucking evil villain on a television show. It was manic and deep. Angry and resigned. “You poor thing. I’m so sorry your wittle daddy had an issue with your drug dealing. Did he spank you, Samuel? Did you like it?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Octavia. Nathaniel said you were gone. Said he needed space after you fucked that asshole, Renon.” I swallowed the spit collecting in my mouth while lifting my chin. I glared at Samuel while plotting Young’s death. It was a fresh sort of hurt, knowing that Young went to Samuel to discuss me. Every cell in my body revolted.

  Samuel put down the spatula in his hand and stalked over to me, those piercing eyes sweeping across my body in amusement. I felt like prey caught in his trap. “Did he make you feel nothing, Octavia? That’s your kink, isn’t it? He fucked you so hard you didn’t think about how pathetic and lonely you are? Did he punish your pussy like I did? Did he fight with his tongue, make you writhe on my floor? Did you think of me?”

  “Shut up,” I gritted while stalking closer.

  “That’s right, baby. Come here. Let me kiss your crazy away. You thought my dad would give a fuck about William, didn’t you? How does it feel knowing that even with the truth out, no one cares?”

  I didn’t understand his emotional whiplash. One second he was crying on the floor beneath his father’s hard stare, and the next he was taunting me. I hardly recognized him from the man I saw at the coffee shop, the yearning in his smile had turned predatory, and I didn’t like the way his eyes swept up and down my body.

  “I’m invincible, Octavia. Even when slapped with the truth, Nathaniel picked me. He’s always picked me. He’s always saved me.” Samuel looked smug as hell, and I hated it.

  “You’re perfect for each other, Samuel,” I gritted. “It’s a delicate game, playing the victim. You have to hide venom in your chess pieces while you work the board. It isn’t skill or heart that helps you win; you just make your opponent pity the Queen.”

  “You think you’re so much better—”

  “I know I’m better. You’re a fucking murderer that hides behind his friends, his daddy’s wallet, and
his drugs. You killed my brother, and you will pay for it.” I looked over Samuel’s shoulder and felt a sickening sense of betrayal fall over me as I watched a sleepy Young creep closer. He was wearing nothing but low hanging sweats and a confused expression. His delicious abs made me want to forget the searing pain wrecking my chest.

  Samuel rolled his eyes. “Nathaniel is too much of a coward. He’ll never say anything or do anything. It’s just who he is.”

  “You killed his boyfriend,” I stuttered, baiting him. “You’ve used him…”

  “Nathaniel likes being used. It’s why he dated William. It’s why he chases your crazy ass around, and it’s also why he won’t say a damn word to me. I could have shot William in cold blood, and Nathaniel would still be too much of a pussy to say shit.”

  My eyes flickered to Young once more. Bingo, motherfucker. Young looked so full of rage that I wanted to hate fuck him into eternity.

  Okay, so I never pretended to be normal.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Young said darkly before lunging for Samuel. They slammed onto the floor and rolled around, their limbs flailing as Young delivered punch after punch. His curled fist rocked against Samuel’s skull repeatedly. Bam. Boom. Pow. It was like a fucking comic book in Young’s living room. I watched in stunned silence as my brother’s ex-lover scrunched his face up in fury.

  This felt like a bittersweet victory for me. I’d been craving retribution since I arrived in New York, and each punishing thud of skin on skin, the cracking of bones, and the sight of blood should have stirred something within me, but it didn’t. It wasn’t until Samuel was limp on the floor that I realized no amount of revenge would ever bring my brother back.

  He’d never come back.

  No one ever believed me.

  No one ever believed me.

  No one ever cared.

  Young stood up and wiped the corner of his bleeding mouth with the back of his hand. I watched the rise and fall of his chest, and the way his pulse pounded in the vein in his neck. “I will end you,” Young promised. “You think you’re invincible, but you’re not. I hope you enjoy graduation, Samuel. Because you’ll be spending the rest of your life running from me. I’m going to let you walk the stage because you’ve earned it. I’ll let your family take photos of your battered face while you clutch your diploma. Then I’m going to ruin you. Ruin your family’s reputation. Ruin your trust fund. Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. I loved William, and I gave him up so you could attend this school. I hope it was worth it.” Young spat at the ground and walked over to me, wrapping his body around mine as he shook from the adrenaline.

  Samuel groaned as he pulled himself up. “Nathaniel, please,” he begged. It should have brought me some sort of joy to see him in that state, but it didn’t. “Please.”

  “Get the fuck out of my house. I don’t even know why you’re here. Figures you’d sneak in while I was asleep. Enjoy your freedom while you can.”

  I was still speechless, still stuck in the reality that nothing would ever change.

  Young looked like me.

  He was acting like me.

  The only difference between the two of us was that he would actually be able to do something, whereas I was just a broken cog in a deflated wheel.

  Young clutched me tighter while giving Samuel his back. My arms were like limp noodles, carelessly holding on to the angry man squeezing me. “Get your ass in my bed, Octavia,” Young purred before dipping his hand lower to grab my ass. I winced at the harsh squeeze.

  “Did revenge turn you on, Nathaniel?” I asked, using his real name because the man before me wasn’t Young. He was a version of myself that I didn’t like or recognize. I knew the consequences of revenge.

  “I want to feel nothing, Octavia.” The door slammed shut, indicating that Samuel was gone. Young’s burning words felt familiar yet crushing. Was this how Noah felt? Did he die a little when he saw me clutch my vendetta in my fist? What was wrong with me? It was like the snapping of a twig. One second I felt solid and in control of my life, and the next I felt empty.

  “What about Renon?” I asked.

  “That was yesterday. Today you’re mine.”

  I swallowed. “And tomorrow? Who will I belong to tomorrow, Young?” He gnawed on his lip, debating on how to answer.

  “You’ll belong to whoever you want.”

  Tomorrow, I wanted to belong to the ground.

  “You sure we should just let him walk away?” I asked while shifting on my feet. What had happened to me? It was like the broken pieces of me were on revolt, scattering around the penthouse and making their fire inaccessible. What once was a blazing inferno was now just a candle at the end of its wick.

  “He won’t go anywhere. His parents won’t let him miss graduation, and even if he tried to run, I’ll hunt him down. I don’t know if you realize this, but I’m kind of richer than God,” he deadpanned. Oh I knew. I knew how rich and influential and powerful he was. I’d studied and resented him long enough to know just how capable he was. “Let’s get in my bed, Octavia,” he growled deeper, his hardening cock jolting against my stomach.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want you. That’s what you do, right? Fuck to feel?”

  “No. I mean why now?” I croaked.

  “I’m not sure I understand—”

  I shoved at his chest. “Why didn’t you believe me? Why did you have to hear for yourself? Who are you?”

  My voice was shrill and manic, my heart hammering against my chest like it was trying to knock the last nail in my brother’s coffin. “You can’t blame me for questioning—”

  “Why? Because I’m crazy? Because you didn’t want to believe it? Did you even love William?”

  “Of course I loved your brother, Octavia. I believed you, I just needed proof.”

  “I WAS YOUR PROOF, NATHANIEL,” I roared. “I’m so glad you’re finally on board the kill Samuel train, but why now? Why weren’t you watching out for William? Why were you cheating on him? Why didn’t you save him?”

  Young’s face turned to stone as he stared at me. I was losing grip on my realities, letting the cold truth seep through my pores and stick to my skin. I couldn’t continue this way, couldn’t pretend that fucking was just fucking and love was just a four letter word for death. I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t hate Young for the sake of keeping William’s memory alive, and I certainly couldn’t pretend that this world was okay living in.

  “Octavia, kiss me,” Young pleaded, but I kept still.

  “No.”

  He reached up to grab my cheeks, and I flinched. His knuckles were bloodied and bruised, the corner of his lip was cracked. He flexed his muscles and took another step, closing the short distance between us with determination. “Kiss me,” he coaxed in a sensual whisper.

  “I thought you needed time, huh? To figure out if you could handle me?”

  “I don’t need time. I need you.”

  “I call the shots here, Young.”

  “I like it when you call me Young.”

  “Shut the fuck up and get it over with, Nathaniel.” My voice was broken and choppy as I braced my palms against his chest.

  Young didn’t crash his lips to mine. It was a subtle, sensual connecting of skin. His lips were hot and wet, soaked with regret. I pounded on his chest.

  “Don’t you kiss me like you give a fuck,” I whispered.

  “I wouldn’t dare.”

  Young picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, slumping into his arms in defeat. I didn’t know if giving up was supposed to feel so warm and hot, but it did. I’d gotten what I wanted, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

  I sobbed into the crook of his neck as he kicked open his bedroom door and lay me down on his bed. I breathed in the smell of his scent and wiped at my leaky eyes.

  “Where’d my Octavia go?” he asked while kissing the inside of my wrist. I could see his hard cock through his sweats. “I thought this was what you wan
ted?”

  I didn’t know what I wanted anymore.

  I let him take off my jeans and panties. I let him pull his steel erection out and align it with my slick cunt. I let him thrust inside of me.

  I felt myself letting go. I felt him use me up like the vacant, warm body I was. This wasn’t sex. This wasn’t the loud, unforgiving fuck I was used to.

  This was goodbye.

  Chapter 15

  I didn’t sneak out the next morning. It wasn’t my usual, but I couldn't find the energy to get out of bed. Young woke up early and kissed me on the cheek, too self-absorbed in his own revenge to notice that I wasn’t really there. Or at least, I didn’t think I was really there.

  Existence was a tricky concept, wasn’t it?

  Some moments, it didn’t feel like William was really dead. I expected him to call me about the season finale of The Big Bang Theory or ask me about my latest art project. Other times, the grief struck me with a newness that could cut through bone. It was debilitating and raw.

  The sheets covering my naked body weren’t heavy enough. I couldn’t remember the last time I craved arms wrapped around me and comfort breathing down my neck. I wanted someone to care, but I also wanted to be alone. It was an odd juxtaposition. I’d been spending the last year pretending to be okay, but the moment it all caught up to me, no one was around to sweep me up off the ground and shake some sense into me.

  I got up to piss, but it was taxing. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my vision turned white. I glared at the bruises along my neck in the shape of Young’s lips. By noon I was hungry, and by nightfall I’d finally opened the blinds in my mind and allowed myself to ruminate in the source of my turmoil.

  William was dead.

  I’d dedicated an entire year to getting revenge. I’d snuck behind enemy lines to study those responsible for his death. An entire year was wasted on an agenda that would never come to fruition.