by Rina Kent
However, Silver didn’t need luck. She needed encouragement and I gave her that.
Ever since then, I send her texts to compliment her, but also to tell her without being specific that I’m close. Maybe not enough to smell her — her scent is of cherry and Chanel most days — but I’m there.
I watch her.
I listen to her.
And one day, I’ll own her.
8
Cole
That night, I don’t sleep.
I can’t.
Not that I usually have a good sleeping cycle. I’m the type who stays up all night, then sleeps one or two hours before I have to wake up.
I’ve always thought sleep is a waste of time. Why sleep when you can read?
But the reason I can’t sleep isn’t because of reading. In fact, I haven’t been able to touch a book since I got home.
I barely had dinner with Mum, and since then, I’ve been staring at my phone — the text Aiden sent right after Silver messaged me.
Aiden: Hey, how do I remove virginal blood from my dick? Should I just wash it?
I called him immediately, but he didn’t pick up.
It’s only a trick. A fucking game of Aiden’s.
Silver wouldn’t let him fuck her, she sure as hell wouldn’t give him her virginity. Silver might act high and mighty, but she believes in all that lady bollocks. She wouldn’t lose her virginity in the back of a car and with someone she’s not even dating.
She wouldn’t.
Unless if she wanted revenge.
I’ll make you regret it.
Her words echo in my mind like a twisted song, the type where I want to smash the CD against the wall.
I keep filling my head with thoughts like, Silver wouldn’t pull herself down or do something out of spite. She’s a snob in a way, and thinks ruining oneself is stupid.
But then again, she started hanging out with those fuckboys after I kissed her and told her she’s not bad compared to the others.
She’s vindictive and refuses to lose, even when she’s down.
Fuck.
I jump out of bed and then storm outside. I stop by the pool and stare at the luminous blue surface. I constantly think it’ll somehow turn red.
The reason I stop and stare at it every time isn’t out of fear, it’s out of my need for chaos.
The only time I go near that pool is when Silver is swimming with Mum in her one-piece suit. Her nipples show through the material and I always come close to have a better view of them. Then, after I get my fill, I tell her about it just to see her eyes widening and her cheeks turning red.
I hop on my bike and head towards Aiden’s house. I’m not one minute in before the sky starts pouring. I’m soaked within seconds but I don’t stop pedalling, not even when the water blurs my vision. It takes me fifteen minutes on full speed. I’m breathing harshly and there’s no one in the streets. It’s almost a scene from a crime thriller novel.
And maybe I should end it with a crime.
As soon as I arrive, I throw the bike down and hit the bell. Their butler lets me in and offers me a towel, pointing out that it’s past midnight. I couldn’t give a damn about that, so fuck him and his towel.
I storm up the stairs to Aiden’s room. It’s dark when I barge inside. It’s only when lightning strikes in the distance that I see his silhouette. He’s sitting on the bed, staring at something in front of him. I hit the light switch and he squints as I interrupt his session with his chessboard. He’s been playing against himself again. In the dark.
“Hey, Nash. You couldn’t sleep either?”
My breathing is choked, chest rising and falling so hard I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to. Droplets of rain fall from me, soaking the carpet.
He tilts his head. “You look like a rat out of the sewer.”
“Silver wouldn’t fuck you in the back of her father’s car.” I pant. “She’s conservative and we both know it.”
“And yet, she did. I already washed the blood off my dick. I wouldn’t have if I’d known you have a virginal blood kink.”
I’m panting like a dying dog. “You’re lying.”
Though I can’t tell for sure, considering his unchanged features. Usually, I’m good at reading people’s expressions and knowing if they’re lying or bluffing. I’ve been slowly trying to seem completely unaffected while I lie myself.
It’s not hard. You need guilt to show those signs in your body language. I lost that ability a long time ago.
Problem is, Aiden lost it too, so you never know when he’s lying or telling the truth.
“What’s in it for you, Nash?” He stands up and stalks towards me. “You don’t want me with her?”
“Why wouldn’t I want you with her?”
“I don’t know. Let me take a wild guess. Hmm.” He feigns a thinking position. “Feel threatened, maybe?”
“You wish.”
“Don’t tell me you rode your bike all the way here in the middle of the pouring rain at midnight just to tell me you don’t care.”
“That’s exactly it. I don’t care. I stopped caring about anything a long time ago.” I pause, continuing to catch my breath. “Still, Silver wouldn’t have done what you’re trying to convince yourself and me of. She believes in things.”
“Like stability, law, and order?”
“Yes.”
“That means she would have done it with her fiancé, don’t you think?”
I stop breathing for long seconds until my lungs burn. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“From today onwards, Silver and I are engaged. We accept congratulations starting this Sunday. You can drop the gifts at the post office.”
“You’re what?”
“Engaged? She’s my fiancée? We’ll get married and have kids? That includes fucking on a daily basis, by the way.”
I lift my fist to punch him, but the smirk on his face stops me in my tracks.
He’s playing with me. He knows I never resort to violence and he’s now using this masquerade against me.
“Come on.” He motions at my hand. “Finish what your head is telling you to do.”
“Was this Jonathan and Sebastian’s doing?” I ask.
“And us. Nothing would’ve happened if she and I hadn’t agreed.”
“She agreed.” My hand drops to my side, the fight inside me withering to nothing.
Silver agreed to become Aiden’s fiancée.
What the hell is this thing breaking inside me?
“Of course she did. It’s me. Besides, you pushed her my way, Nash, and do you know what I’ll do now? I’ll play all the games you never wanted to play before.”
“And you’ll lose every fucking time.” I turn around to leave.
“Can’t wait,” he calls after me. “She has a tight cunt that I’m looking forward to tasting again tomorrow.”
I swing back and this time, I smash my fist in his face. He winces, clutching it, but he laughs out loud, the sound echoing in the room.
“What was that for, Nash? Do I smell jealousy in the air?”
“That’s a declaration of war. It might not be tomorrow or next year or even the next decade, but I’ll find a way to crush you.”
“Good luck with that. In the meantime, please enjoy my and Silver’s engagement.”
I storm out of the house before I throw the fucker out of the window. I jump on my bike and ride it in the rain.
For hours, I just roam the empty streets, my chest rising and falling heavily as the downpour drenches me. My T-shirt sticks to my back and my wet hair glues to my temples.
My head crowds with chaos so strong, I can’t begin to solve it. I usually need the beginning of the riddle, and no matter how much the thing is tangled, I’d figure it out. I’ll find a way and solve it.
Not this time.
This time, it’s almost like the chaos isn’t in my head — it’s in my chest. It’s aching and beating in and out of synch. Something tells me it’s no
t because of the rain or the cold.
She ruined it.
She ruined everything.
She killed the small living part in my chest, and now, I’ll kill her in return.
It might not be today or tomorrow, but Silver Queens will pay for this pain. I’ll make it slow and torturous, just like the thing dying in my chest.
I only return home around five thirty in the morning because it’s close to Mum’s waking time and I don’t want to worry her.
She worried enough for a lifetime when William Nash was alive.
I shrug my wet clothes off and stand under the shower for half an hour before I step out and put on my uniform, then join Mum downstairs.
The sound of humming stops me at the entrance to the kitchen.
Mum.
She’s singing.
It took her seven years, but Mum is singing again, and not only that, but she’s also doing it with a smile on her face as she checks the oven.
When I was a child, Mum used to sing me to sleep or when she made breakfast like this. She has a soft voice made for lullabies and sweet dreams. Over the years, William killed that voice. She stopped singing and even stopped writing. She went into a slump for the last three years of his life.
She picked up writing again soon after his death, even though she battled with depression. It was her outlet, something she found refuge in. However, she never sang again and I thought William had taken her voice with him.
Now, she’s found it. She dug it from the grave and got it out.
I drop my messenger bag on the chair and hug her from behind. “How is the best mother in the world?”
“Oh, darling.” She places a hand on my cheek and tiptoes to kiss me on the forehead. She hasn’t stopped doing that since I was a kid. “Have you stayed out?”
“How do you know that?” She shouldn’t. Her pills make her go out from ten to six. “Have you not been taking your pills, Mum?”
“No, I don’t need them to sleep anymore.” She smiles. “At least, not every day. Now, young man, where did you go?”
“Aiden’s. We were playing and lost track of time.”
“You better not have ridden your bike in the rain.”
“Is that my favourite citrus cake?” I kiss her on the cheek and take the plate before settling at the counter.
She shakes her head and starts dragging things in front of me as I eat my slice of cake. There’s coffee, juice, jam, eggs, bacon, toast, butter, and what’s fit to feed an army. Mum has always cooked things that feed a large family.
“You’ve been radiant lately, Mum.”
“I have?” She touches her chestnut hair that she’s started to let loose. Her eyes sparkle, and it’s the most beautiful view. She has lived as a shell of herself for years. Even after William’s death. Once, I heard her tell Ronan’s mother that, sometimes, she thinks maybe William will come back.
That’s when her mental health takes a sharp dive and she doesn’t get out of bed for days. She doesn’t write or take jogs, she just hides in her room.
Lately, it’s as if life has been blown into her, and I know why. She’s been going out a lot lately for tea with Ronan’s mother or for dinners with the company people — people because Mum doesn’t like anything about William’s business. She’s only keeping the fort until I’m of age to take over.
However, Mum hasn’t really been going for tea or to those dinners. For one, Ronan’s mother is often out of the country with her husband. For two, Mum has been dressing more elegantly than usual.
I figure it’s a man, but I want to hear it from her. If he’s making my mum happy, I’ll give him a chance. But if he as much as gives off any ‘William Syndrome’ signs of violence, he’ll end up in that blood pool.
“Listen, honey.” She stands across from me. “Ever since your father’s death, you’ve been my world and the reason I’ve held on to life. You’re everything to me, Cole. I need you to know that.”
“I do.” She’s tried. In her own way. But Mum and I are already broken beyond repair.
Or I am, anyway.
No breakfast she prepares can fix the close relationship we could’ve had.
William took that with him.
Seems as though Mum has found the glue that’s put her back together.
“I’m happy, you know that?” She touches her hair again. “I met someone and we’ve been going out for nearly a year now. I didn’t want to tell you about him until I made sure we were serious. We are, darling. He makes me feel like I deserve a second chance and it’d mean so much to me if you accept him.”
“As long as he’s not my age,” I joke.
“No, of course not.” She smiles awkwardly. “But he’s someone you know.”
“Someone I know?”
She swallows. “Sebastian.”
I nearly drop the unfinished slice of cake to the plate. Not much surprises me, but this definitely does. “Sebastian Queens?”
She nods.
“Silver’s father?” I know I’m starting to sound redundant and like a fucking idiot, but it’s like my brain is unable to process the information.
“I know you two don’t get along so much, but Seb and I are hoping you’ll be closer with time.”
Seb. She’s calling him Seb. They’re already close.
And now I’m getting unwelcome images about Silver’s dad and my mum.
“Honey?” Mum’s face contorts. She keeps touching her hair and her apron and her hand, which means she’s getting out of sorts.
The idea that I won’t accept Sebastian is throwing her in an endless loop. If I tell her no, she’ll choose me — I have no doubt about that — but she’ll relapse back to acute depression. She’ll need her meds again. She won’t put on makeup or let her hair loose. She’ll stop singing and jogging and getting out of bed.
I’ll never hurt my mother that way.
When I was six and William threw a pan at me, she hugged me and took the entire hit on her back. Then he kicked her in the ribs for getting in his way. She had those bruises for weeks. She cried in the shower every night.
But she still protected me every time William came after me, taking all the beatings on my behalf.
She still loved me, even when she was at her lowest.
“I’d love to meet Sebastian as your prospect other half, Mum.”
Her features light up. “R-really?”
“Really.” I stand, round the counter, and engulf her in a hug. “I’m happy for you.”
“Oh, darling.” She cries into my neck. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”
I pat her back. “And you don’t know how much this means to me.”
Silver hates me, but soon enough, she’ll be forced into having every dinner with me.
And she’ll pay.
I might not like Silver Queens, but I’ve always considered her something sacred.
And mine.
She ruined that.
She ruined everything.
9
Silver
The following day, I don’t go to school.
As soon as Derek stops in front of Mum’s building, I rush out, my heartbeat nearly eradicating me altogether.
Mum lives down the centre of London, where it’s noisy and the traffic is suffocating. It’s her way to stay amongst people — even if they’re the most annoying type.
The concierge, an old man with a beard, greets me and I gulp so I can speak over the tightness in my throat. “I-is Mum upstairs? Did you check on her?”
“Mrs. Davis asked us not to disturb her.”
My knees weaken. I nearly fall right there and then.
No.
No, Mum. You promised.
He’s saying something else, but I don’t listen to him over the buzz in my ears. It’s like I’m pushed a few years back. It’s the same scene, the same foreboding, and the same deadly fear.
It’s all there.
I hit the lift’s button, but it doesn’t come down.
The moment I’m in front of Mum’s flat, I just stand there. My limbs freeze and it’s like someone has cast a spell on me. I can’t move.
Oh, God.
Maybe I should’ve told Papa before he went out to work this morning. Maybe I should’ve had Derek come up with me.
I don’t want to go in there alone.
I…I’m scared.
My heart thrums loud in my chest and a shiver shoots up my spine, engulfing me whole.
Go, Silver.
You have to go.
My fingers are stiff and cold as I hit the password to her flat. The sound of the lock clicking open echoes in the silence of the hall like doom. I flinch, even when I try to keep my composure.
My hand strangles the strap of my bag as I tiptoe inside.
The first thing I see is black.
It’s so dark, I can’t make out my own hands.
Then the smell of something rotten follows. Something like meat and alcohol.
A sob tears from my throat as I run inside. “Mum! Mum!”
I trip over a table and my foot stings. I throw my bag down and continue hobbling towards her bedroom. I’ve learnt the way by heart and can reach it even in the dark.
My fingers tremble, hovering over the light switch. What if I find her on the ground like the other time? What if I’m too late? What if —
I hit the button and freeze in place.
Mum sits in front of her console, her blonde hair falling on either side of her face and stopping a little under her neck, dishevelled and all over the place.
Her cobalt blue eyes are bloodshot and lost in the mirror. Streaks of mascara mark her cheeks, and she holds a red lipstick in her hand that matches the colour on her lips.
Her other hand clutches a half-full glass of red wine. Her satin nightgown is creased and the robe is tied wrong around her waist, but it doesn’t hide her model body or her exotic beauty that everyone in the media talks about.