by Coralee June
Renon had picked us up in his sexy car, and I made Young sit in the front seat beside him so that they could get used to the idea of being cordial. I wanted to know Young could mend fences without me, because pretty soon he’d have to tackle his issues alone.
The three of us stood on the lawn, observing the guests get out of their flashy cars and saunter inside. Samuel’s family had a great big house in the suburbs. It was about an hour out of the city, and I wondered if the brick had malevolence embedded in it.
Young bought me a lovely red dress that was long and had a slit up the thigh, making my fiery hair the center of attention. I wore it down in wild waves trailing the middle of my back. Young also gave me one of William’s old watches. I didn’t put it on. I took the battery out and set it in the microwave because the idea of staring at something that reminded me that life went on without William pissed me off.
“What’s the plan?” Renon asked while looking me up and down. His stare was a sultry dance that felt like pricks on my skin. He was wearing a tight suit that looked like it belonged on the body of a rockstar. His neck tattoos peeked over the collar of his suit jacket, and his shoes were scuffed.
“I plan on enjoying the party with Octavia,” Young replied coolly before wrapping his arm around my waist. I didn’t necessarily appreciate the subtle marking of territory. In fact, I would’ve preferred that he unzipped his pants and took a piss on my heels; at least that would’ve shown that he was acting like a dog. Or maybe a wolf.
Unlike Renon, Young wore one of his perfect suits that were perfectly pressed and perfectly molded to his fucking perfect body. Perfect.
I uncoiled myself from Young’s hold and strutted towards Renon to fix his tie. As I adjusted it, I made sure to pull the material tightly around his neck. He didn’t even wince. “I plan on stealing some shit to pay for the drugs he owes me and kiss your girl. I do owe her three orgasms,” Renon replied cheekily. “And if I’m lucky, scare the shit out of Samuel.”
I rewarded Renon with a kiss on the lips, just to test the boundaries of Young’s restraint, and naturally, Renon took it a step further. He cupped my breast over my dress and bit my bottom lip so hard I wasn’t sure if it was red lipstick on his mouth or my blood. So he was a boob guy? Nice.
I broke the kiss first and whirled around to take in Young’s anger. I expected to see his teeth clenched and brow furrowed with resentment, but instead, he was smiling at me. He’d figured out my game. Or maybe he was trying to hurt me by acting unaffected. Either way, I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“And what’s your plan, Octavia?” he asked.
I rolled my neck before starting over to him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lifted up on my tiptoes to sear a kiss upon his lips. At first, he didn’t respond. But then I moaned into his mouth, and he greedily took everything I gave him. We put on quite the show in the Smiths’ front lawn, making out and groping one another until a whistle made us stop.
“My plan is to cause a little chaos and piss Samuel off,” I said in a breathy tone before pulling away. “And hopefully find you the evidence you need. You still think he’s your best friend despite how fucking obvious it is. I mean Renon is here as confirmation, Young.”
“I don’t trust Renon,” Young replied plainly. “And don’t you think any evidence Samuel has would be at our penthouse?” Young asked.
“I’ve already searched his room. The amount of sex toys that man has is ridiculous, by the way. I stole some anal beads to experiment with later if you’re game,” I replied with a wink before continuing. “No, if Samuel is hiding anything, he’s going to keep it away from you.”
Young frowned and licked the lipstick off my lips, smearing it along my chin as he moaned. “I agree that he’s a suspect. But can you blame me for not wanting to believe that my best friend, the man I sacrificed a hell of a lot for, killed the love of my life?”
I involuntarily winced at his words but welcomed the reminder that I would never be William. “We’re different, I suppose. You see the best in people, and I choose to believe the worst. Guess that’s what made William perfect for you.”
Young pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and started wiping at the lipstick now covering my face with his soft hands. I guess he didn’t like that shade of red on me. When he was done, I tossed him a wink and pulled the lipstick tube from my clutch and reapplied my warpaint before tossing it on the ground. I hoped Samuel found it later in his front lawn and wished the color was wrapped in a ring around his cock.
Rolling my shoulders back, I reached for Renon and took his arm. “Shall we?” I asked. If he was getting whiplash from my behavior, he wasn’t showing it.
“Let’s get this over with,” Young replied with an eye roll.
Rich. Samuel Smith was rich, as to be expected. The floors were only the best marble. The layout was a designer’s wet dream. The oversized portrait of his family was hung above the mantle, looming over us like a bad one night stand. It was tacky. I didn’t even have the energy or patience to draw conclusions about the ridiculous amount of wealth and power in this room. I didn’t want to be predictable, so instead of complaining about the self-importance of each guest, I leaned up to kiss Young on the cheek.
“That’s my ethics professor,” he said with a frown while nodding to a group of people standing by a table of drinks. “I have to go say hello. Don’t do anything without me, okay?” he said while reluctantly walking away. I smiled. He should have known better than to leave me with Renon to go and schmooze everyone.
I watched his back as he greeted a woman in a black dress. He kissed her cheek before shyly looking over his shoulder at me. “I feel uncomfortable as fuck here, Octavia the Vengeful,” Renon said, tugging at his tie. “He looks like he fits right in.” Renon nodded at Young, and I smiled.
“He does look that way, doesn’t he?” I mused. I knew Young didn’t fit in. He hated the roles thrust on his shoulders. He didn’t want to be the charming one or the center of attention. He wanted to love William, blissfully unaware of the effect he had on people.
I grabbed an hors d’oeuvre off a tray and plopped it in my mouth. It tasted like rusted pennies, so I spat it out in my hand and tossed it in a nearby vase. Renon just watched me in amusement.
“I never really pictured William and him together. I’m shocked you’re with him, too,” Renon said before pulling a flask from his coat pocket and drinking from it. I watched his tempting throat bob before he slipped it back into his inner coat.
“Are you an expert on Nathaniel Youngblood, Renon?” I asked.
“I’m an expert on men that don’t have to work for what they get.”
“So is that why you pretend to be some mysterious, badass drug dealer when really you’re just a college kid chasing the same piece of paper, they are? You’re kind of a hypocrite, Renon.” I gave him a disarming smile, the kind of teeth-showing trick I’d learned at a young age. Renon was in the business of addiction, but I was in the business of calling people out.
“And you’re kind of a mindfuck, Octavia. You think you got the world figured out, but I run the men running the world. I might be a college kid, but I’ve got hustle. What do you got?” he asked while placing a hand on my lower back and leaning in closer. I could feel Young’s eyes on us, but I didn’t care.
“I’ve got a voice. I’ve got a pussy. But do you know what everyone’s problem is, Renon?” I replied while lowering my voice into a whisper. He leaned in even closer, and I knew that if I licked the bottom of my lip, it would brush against his chin. “While the men running the men that run the world focus on what they have, I focus on what I lack. I don’t have fear, Renon. Fear is the most powerful motivator in the world. I think you fear being irrelevant; it’s why you pretend to be cocky. Are you scared to be yourself because you might not like who you are?”
Renon’s eyes widened as I tilted my head to the side. “I don’t have fear,” he gritted.
“You know what else I don’t h
ave?” I asked before wrapping my hand around his neck. “I don’t have pride. I’m not afraid to stroke your cock in a crowded room or swing from the chandelier with no panties on. I don’t care what anyone thinks, nor do I think about anyone else. Stop worrying about what Young is doing and figure your shit out.” I knew Renon was hard as a rock at my words. I could even feel the evidence of it pressing against me. Our bodies were flush with one another, and the heat traveling between us was palpable. He leaned in for a kiss, but I pulled away. Mom taught me the art of keeping a man guessing. It was coming in handy lately. “Are we going to case Samuel’s room or what?”
He swallowed and looked around the room with fire in his eyes and resentment pounding in his chest. I wasn’t sure if he was going to walk away from me or fuck me on Samuel Smith’s floor while everyone watched. “I can’t tell if this is your way of standing up for him or if you’re really just this intense.”
“I’m an intense girl,” I conceded before pulling away.
Renon straightened the waistband of his pants before looking around. Not a single person noticed our sexual standoff. We stood out like sore thumbs at the Smiths’ fancy party, but everyone was too self-absorbed to give a fuck about the redhead with bloodlust and a drug dealer whose tie was on too tight.
“Let’s go,” he said before grabbing my hand and leading me towards the stairs. I kept my eyes peeled for Samuel as we ascended. Renon felt like a ball of confusion at my side, probably gnawing on the truths I spilled in his lap. I knew Young was probably anxious about us being out of sight, but once again, I didn’t care. I was here on a mission, and if he didn’t want me snooping, he wouldn’t have asked me to be his date in the first place.
The house was predictably poised with perfection. The guest rooms were polished. The bathroom had hand towels and smelled of Yankee Candles and money. And vomit. Some poor girl with image issues had definitely just tossed her cookies to the super bowl to fit in her dress. It wasn’t until we got to a room secluded in the back that I actually felt like we were going somewhere.
Opening the door, Renon went inside and stiffened. I could barely see over his shoulders, but I could feel the shift in energy. It was like that sensation of getting sick, you knew it was coming and could feel the ache in your bones. “Renon, why are you here? I thought we had an arrangement,” Samuel said.
I shoved the cocky drug dealer aside to waltz inside the room. Samuel was standing at the window, looking broody as fuck. “Arrangement is a loose term,” Renon answered before positioning himself at my side. I liked that he didn’t stand in front of me like a chivalrous bastard or behind me like a coward. I think there was some old country song that went along those lines. Though my brain couldn’t focus long enough to remember the lyrics, because Samuel Smith was standing there looking smug as hell. “You showed up and begged for more time. My people think your grace period is up.”
“You gave me bad product!” Samuel hissed. “I shouldn’t have to pay for faulty drugs.”
“We aren’t collecting on the bad batch, and you know it. We want our cut, and we want it now.”
At the mention of the faulty batch, my stomach lurched. I had to close my eyes to fight back the pain. Round and round the blame went like a tornado in Samuel’s mansion. “That is such bullshit. You gave me defective drugs, and now a guy is dead.” Samuel turned to look at me, pity on his face. It felt purely orchestrated, an expression meant to ignite some sort of sympathy from me, but it wasn’t working. Samuel was playing a symphony of innocence, but I knew the score. “I don’t owe you a dime. I paid my debt when I took care of covering up William’s death to save your operation.”
That was the wrong thing to say, Sammy boy. I laughed just to throw him off. “Don’t pretend for one second you covered up his death for anyone but yourself,” I argued. I took a step closer to Samuel, and Renon stayed right at my side, matching me step for step with an imminent threat clutched in his fists. “Let’s not forget that you knew those drugs were shit. You intentionally gave them to my brother.”
“William knew the risks,” Samuel said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“It means exactly what I said. Your brother knew what he was taking. He knew that it was bad. He was in a low place, Octavia.”
Paranoia like a vice wrapped around my neck and squeezed. It was nearly impossible to choke my words out. “You’re lying.”
Samuel ran a hand through his hair before tugging on his navy blue suit coat. “You said it yourself. He never took drugs. He swallowed that pill, knowing what it would do to him.”
I knew my brother was depressed, but it still always ended at the same result. I couldn’t imagine getting this far just to end up right back where I started. William overdosed because he wanted to. William died because he wanted to. This was too much.
The corner of Samuel’s mouth ticked up like he was proud of himself for eliciting pain from me. I felt despair dancing in my gut that wouldn’t let up. I couldn’t imagine a world where William willingly left me, but I knew if I easily believed Samuel’s story, then he would win. This was what he wanted—to create doubt in my mind.
“You still gave it to him,” I whispered.
“I did.” At least Samuel wasn’t lying anymore.
An odd sense of déjà vu came over me. Here we were, hashing out the same shit, with Samuel holding all the cards and Renon coming to save the day. The why was always the same—William. But I wasn’t the same woman as before. I was so caught up in seeking answers I forgot the result. My brother was still gone, and someone had to pay. And that someone was Samuel.
I smiled. “I got so worked up I almost forgot why we were here!” I cooed. “Call your father up here, Samuel.” Renon looked curiously at me but didn’t interrupt. Smart guy.
“What? Why?” Samuel asked. He seemed confused by my change in direction, which was exactly what I wanted. He thought he could twist this conversation to his advantage and use my grief as a way to escape Renon’s demands, but I wasn’t going to let him get away that easily. I’d bring him down one peg at a time until he was nothing but a pile of dust.
“Call your dad. He’s going to write Renon a check for the money you owe. Bring him here, or I’ll go down there. Either way, you’re paying up tonight, Samuel. You’re going to be paying for a long, long time.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“She’s not,” Renon interjected while crossing his arms over his chest.
I took a step closer to Samuel, feeling giddy over the prospect of catching him off guard. When we were toe to toe, he flinched.
I kissed him.
I touched my lips to his and sipped from hell itself.
I fucking kissed my brother’s murderer.
He tasted like tar and disappointment. I could feel the lies flowing freely from his tongue as I sunk my teeth into his bottom lip. He groaned. I’d tilted his world off its axis. Samuel said he missed me, so I’d give him a taste. Turns out it was easier to invade his pout than it was to forgive Noah.
My hands roamed his back until I was grabbing his ass. He cupped my neck with his hands, applying harsh pressure that made my head pound. It wasn’t even remotely sexual, just threatening. I enjoyed rough sex as much as the next gal, but this was a baleful move meant to intimidate me. Slipping my hand into his pocket, I retrieved his phone before pulling away. Samuel was stilted with confusion, a frown etched upon his blood-red lips, stained by my lipstick.
Giving Samuel my back, I tossed it to Renon with a grin. “Call him,” I ordered.
If I couldn’t get retribution for William, at least Renon the Drug Dealer could get his money.
Chapter 10
If Mr. Smith was an indicator of how Samuel would age, I found solace in the fact that he was ugly as fuck. His ears were the size of hands and stuck out on his head like open doors on a smart car. His beady eyes were awkward on his face, and there was spit forming in the corner of his mouth, spraying anyone within a
ten-foot radius when he spoke.
“What is the meaning of this?” he asked while looking around the room as he shook his phone. Renon’s message was short and to the point.
“Come upstairs to my room. We need to talk.”
Mr. Smith’s eyes landed on me with a calculated sort of hunger, like he was already trying to figure out how he could drug, rape, and bribe me to keep quiet. I didn’t like how transparently malicious he was. It was like his seedy soul was pouring out of his gaze.
Samuel looked terrified. He was cowering in the corner of his room, eyeing me with so much venom in his gaze that I could practically feel snake bites on my neck. I was unaffected, though. I’d put him in an impossible position, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the power I felt at that knowledge. I enjoyed the fear in his expression and the way he was itching to reach for the lamp beside his bed and bash my skull in. I should feel more fear about standing five feet away from a murderer, but I knew he wouldn’t outright kill me—at least I didn’t think he would.
If I squeezed my eyes shut, I could still taste oblivion, could again feel the barrel of the dud gun at my chest. He’d pulled the trigger, and I half wondered if he’d bought a real gun since then.
“Answer me, Samuel,” his father demanded once more. For my sake, I hoped we didn’t grow up to be like our parents. The idea of being like my mother made me sick. But I could see the blatant similarities now. Mr. Smith looked like a busted cage of evil. His demons were oozing through the iron bars of his weathered appearance.
“Dad, I can explain.”
“I think it’s best I do, hmm? It’s me that is coming to collect a debt, after all,” Renon interrupted with a sinister smile. The drug dealer thrust his hand out for Mr. Smith to shake, but the haggard father didn’t accept the polite gesture. Mr. Smith simply looked Renon up and down like he was a disease he wanted the vaccine to. Oh well, it was all an act anyway.