by Coralee June
“I know damn well you’re not my kid, Octavia. I’m just asking because I care.”
I swallowed another bite of egg before responding. “Yeah. Caring is the reason I don’t suck your cock anymore, so I’d be careful.”
Renon snorted. Young let out a huff. I felt hyper focused on every detail of the room. The spot of dust on the floor. The burning smell of eggs and Noah’s pride. The air conditioning in the kitchen kicked on, filling the room with a chilly breeze as I gripped my fork.
“I won’t go too far into detail. It’s not really any of your damn business. I’m pretty high up. I recruit distributors and make sure they pay up. I do some runs every now and then. My older brother got initiated when we were in foster care. Then when I turned sixteen, I joined in. It pays the bills.”
“Is this your life goal? Do you plan on doing this forever?” Noah pressed.
“I don’t really think about tomorrow. Right now? I’m happy. Tomorrow, that might change. And why don’t you ask what you’re really curious about,” Renon hissed. “I might not know your history, but it’s pretty fucking obvious that you’re pussy whipped for Octavia. You want to know where I fit. The way I see it, her and I have fun. You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”
I rolled my eyes. Guess I really was building a harem. Young coughed and took a sip of coffee. “Sounds like a plan.”
A plan? Sounds like a motherfucking plan? I blanched. “Which part? The murdering your best friend plan or going with the flow with me?” I wasn’t expecting Young to easily agree with this. Hell, I was expecting him to run back to Samuel and offer him forgiveness with a side of martyrdom.
Young eyed me with brooding confidence. “Both.”
Both.
Both.
Both.
Guess he’d had enough space to think and had made a decision. I felt conflicted, but the burning ball of anxiety in my gut loosened a bit.
I let that truth and the awkward discussion about our sex life simmer for a moment while Noah gave me puppy eyes filled to the brim with pleading intent. He wanted me to invite him in on this whim of an agreement, but I wasn’t quite ready to do that.
I was overstimulated, the reality of everything piling up and making me want to crawl into bed again. Samuel would finally get what he deserved. I wouldn’t believe it until I saw his cold, dead body being lowered into the ground. I fleetingly decided to wear red to his funeral.
But what would happen afterwards? Where would I go? What would I do? Going back to normal life didn’t feel like an option anymore—not that I ever really did normal. Would I stay here and play house with my brother’s ex-lover while sleeping with a drug dealer and my therapist? Would I run away? Would I finally do what I pledged to do back in the thick of my grief?
Would I finally feel enough peace to leave this world and join my brother?
“So when do we get to kill Samuel?” I asked. “Time is of the essence. He’s going to give you up, Renon.”
“My people need a couple of days to plan. Graduation is tomorrow, right? Probably after. Again, don’t ask, don’t tell. Just let us do our thing and act surprised when he overdoses in a bar somewhere.”
The poetic justice of Renon’s words rang loud and clear. He’d make sure Samuel died the same way William did. “I thought you said I could watch?”
“I thought you were better at deciphering pretty lies, crazy girl.”
Yeah. I thought I was, too.
Chapter 17
Like everything at Blackwood University, the graduation was extravagant and over the top, boasting about the amount of money their graduates had. Instead of hosting the ceremony at one of their large auditoriums, they rented out Carnegie Hall. News reporters and limos lined the streets, and you had to have a coveted ticket to get inside.
Renon and Noah stayed home, but Young insisted that I sit with his parents. I never honestly thought that I’d get the chance to meet them, let alone be introduced as Young’s girlfriend. And yet there we were.
“Mom, this is Octavia, my girlfriend,” my non-boyfriend said with pride. He’d warned me on the drive over that he’d spilled everything to his parents, from the nature of William’s death to Samuel’s involvement. I was surprised that he so openly talked to them about subjects that had been plaguing me for months. He said that his father was on board with tarnishing the Smith name. I still didn’t believe him.
Mrs. Youngblood was classically beautiful, with long dark hair and naturally long lashes. I had expected her to look fake, like most women of wealth her age, but she welcomed time with grace and elegance. She even let specks of grey hair frame her round face.
“Octavia, it is so lovely to finally meet you. We’ve heard so much about you. I’m so sorry we didn’t get to meet William, but I’m thankful you and my Nathaniel found each other in all of this.”
Her words made thick emotions rise up my throat and spill out my mouth. “You would have loved William. He was always better at this sort of thing than me.” I gestured between us to explain my clumsy words. I was inevitably going to fuck up these introductions. I always did.
“I think you’re doing just fine, sweetheart,” she beamed with a knowing wink. My suspicion meter was cranked up to eleven. No one was this nice or genuine. Or maybe I was just too jaded to trust people at face value.
Mr. Youngblood looked like an older version of Young. He had a nicely trimmed beard, strong jaw, and a phone that seemed permanently attached to his hand. He hadn’t even introduced himself yet and was just typing away on the screen, grunting occasionally by way of participation in the conversation. “The Smiths better pray they don’t run into me today,” Mr. Youngblood finally growled after he was able to tear his eyes from his phone. “I always knew that son was a worthless piece of shit. And don’t think we’re done discussing your role in this, Nathaniel. You should have told me sooner. For fuck’s sake, this has the potential to be a PR nightmare.”
I eyed Young, who was wearing his graduation gown and a smile. He offered me a shrug, but I was still too stuck on the fact that he’d told his parents everything and they believed him. Not only that, but they supported him, too. I wondered what it was like to have that sort of unconditional, unwavering love. Would I ever have that? My soul whispered in my ear that I already did.
Outside Carnegie, we stood in awkward silence, smiling for the paparazzi across the street as excited families filtered inside. I snapped my attention to an approaching town car and bristled when I saw President and Mrs. Robinson get out of the backseat. Mrs. Robinson looked scarily pale and had a bruise forming on her upper arm that was covered with makeup that wasn’t blended properly. She wore a black dress that clung to her fake oversized tits.
“That fucking bitch,” Mrs. Youngblood hissed.
Oh. So Young had told them everything.
“Come on, Octavia,” the surprisingly strong mama bear said while yanking my wrist. Young just shook his head and frowned after us as we stomped down the concrete towards them. Maybe this was why Young was so understanding of me. His mother was her own storm, and I was curious how this would play out.
Once in front of the Robinsons, I watched as Young’s once-lover paled when she saw me. She clutched her husband’s arm like it was a lifeline, tugging him towards the door, but President Robinson didn’t budge—he didn't even see me standing there. He was too busy looking at Young’s mom. I could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes at the prospect of chatting with one of the most influential families at this school. Mr. Youngblood was in oil, and Mrs. Youngblood owned a fashion empire. President Robinson probably wanted to cash in on alumni donations.
“Mrs. Youngblood, so lovely to see you. I bet you’re just so proud of your son. He’s off to do amazing things all thanks to Blackwood. Have you told him about our alumni chapter? He’d be a wonderful addition to it.”
Mrs. Youngblood smiled. “Oh, yes. We are just so proud of Nathaniel. I’m thrilled at all the help and extra attention he received whi
le here at Blackwood. Especially all the extra attention your wife gave him. Late nights. Weekends. She was an intimate part in his college experience, and I’m impressed by your family’s level of dedication.”
I had to abruptly place a hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle. However, President Robinson didn’t even comprehend her words. He was too busy staring at parents and the coeds around him. What a fucking prick. I almost—almost—felt sorry for his wife. But then I thought of that photo I took and promptly remembered that she was just as bad.
“Uh huh. Yes. Great dedication. I’ll send you an alumni packet with our different donation tiers. I think you and Mr. Youngblood should look at the gold program.”
Beside me, Mrs. Youngblood steamed with anger. I felt the same, but mostly it all just seemed comical to me. What did she expect? I didn’t think the president actually gave a fuck what his wife did as long as she didn’t embarrass him publicly and looked pretty on his arm. He was about to leave, with his anxious wife in tow, when Mrs. Youngblood grabbed his hand, forcing him to look her in the eye.
“I won’t be donating another dime to your institution, and I’ll make sure that every contact I have understands the kind of school you’re running.”
President Robinson finally seemed to understand what was happening. His trembling wife looked like she was about to collapse. “Is there a problem, Corinne? Your son was given every advantage at this school; I don’t understand.”
“Ask your blackmailing slut of a wife,” Mrs. Youngblood replied with anger. Holy shit, I actually liked Young’s mother.
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re insinuating. My wife is an upstanding member of this community, and even if anything happened—which I’m sure it didn’t—he’s of age and a consenting adult.” He was looking between Mrs. Youngblood and his wife, confusion breaking across his face like waves hitting the sand.
“You’re absolutely right. But blackmail is punishable by law, Dr. Robinson. I know you have the judge in your pocket, but so do we. We have everyone in our pocket.”
Mrs. Youngblood grabbed my arm, wordlessly instructing me to leave after her ominous threat, but I couldn’t just let that be it. My mouth opened, and the old me barreled out. “If it’s any consolation, I really enjoyed the pornographic photos. Your wife is an enthusiastic lover. You must be so proud.”
Mrs. Youngblood went rigid, and I realized that Young hadn’t told his parents everything after all. President Robinson seemed to finally recognize me then. He was too caught up in his ego before, but now his attention was focused on me. “Y-You! I told you that you were banned from campus. I thought you were institutionalized. You can’t be here.” His face turned an angry shade of red, and I enjoyed the way he clenched his fists.
I was feeling more and more like myself despite the gloom still bottled up in my chest. Maybe the cure for my mind wasn’t pills. Maybe it was power. “Octavia has our family’s support. She was wrongly committed, and my oldest son assisted in getting her out. If I hear that you played any part in sending this grieving sister away, I will end you,” Mrs. Youngblood said while wrapping her limber arm around my shoulders.
Emotion clogged my throat at her tenderness. I didn’t understand how a woman I’d just met could be so supportive of me when my own parents and Noah blindly sent me away. Tears shone in my eyes, but I forced them to evaporate. “I had nothing to do with her medical condition. She’s a liability, Mrs. Youngblood. If this is who you’re choosing to align yourself with, then I wish you luck. The Wilsons were a mistake and have brought nothing but trouble to this campus.”
I wanted to reach out and grab him by the balls and squeeze until he bled. “William was too good for your school, and you know it. I bet you knew Samuel Smith was the one to give him tainted drugs. It’s bad for a school’s reputation to have dealers on your campus, isn’t it?”
President Robinson’s eyes widened, and Mrs. Robinson took a step back, eyeing a taxi in the distance. “If you show up at my graduation, I will have you forcibly removed,” he growled at me before turning to Mrs. Youngblood. “I do hope you enjoy the ceremony, Corinne.”
“We won’t be attending,” Young’s voice boomed at my back, and I found myself taking a step backward and relaxing against his broad chest.
Mrs. Youngblood squeezed her eyes shut, then straightened her spine. “These things are boring anyway. Good day, President Robinson. Hope you can find another student to give a speech last minute. If anyone asks, the Youngbloods have rescinded all support of your institution.”
Both Young and his mother grabbed my arms and yanked me back towards the street, where Mr. Youngblood was talking on his phone. At the sight of us, he hung up and took in our expressions. “Did you cause trouble again, Corinne?” he asked in an exasperated voice, but there was a smile on his face, like he was expecting this sort of thing. Interesting. Very, interesting.
“I had a partner in crime,” she winked while elbowing me. “I think this graduation is overrated. Let’s go grab lunch instead. We have the issue of incriminating photos to discuss.”
Mr. Youngblood rolled his eyes and pocketed his cell. “Lord have mercy, you all will be the death of me.”
“It doesn’t show Nathaniel’s face. I made sure to keep his identity secret,” I piped in.
“You photographed it?” she asked.
“Well, yeah, I needed the blackmail,” I replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I wasn’t sure if I was letting my true self shine because I was self-sabotaging again or because I felt comfortable around the Youngbloods. More so, I didn’t know which was worse.
“I like this one, Nathaniel,” Mrs. Youngblood replied, shocking me even more.
“I’ll call my public relations rep,” Mr. Youngblood added.
For possibly the first time in my life, I found myself rendered speechless.
After calling a limo up, Young and I loitered outside while his parents spoke. “Are you mad you’re missing graduation?” I asked.
Young smiled at me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Are you kidding? Public speaking and a three hour long ceremony isn’t exactly my idea of fun. Once again, you’re coming to my rescue, Octavia.”
“I’m not sure I would call it saving. I can’t believe you told your parents. Why didn’t you tell them before?” I asked. If they were so supportive, why wait? He could have avoided all of this.
“My parents are used to sweeping in and saving the day. I don’t know. I was worried if I admitted what I did—stealing the tests and sleeping with Mrs. Robinson to save Samuel—they would have blamed him. I still…cared about my best friend, you know?”
No. I didn’t know. I didn’t understand how he could have willingly supported Samuel to his own detriment, but that’s just who Young was. A martyr. A foolish, handsome, shy martyr. “If I had parents like yours, this entire thing would have been so much easier,” I gritted, thinking back to my stupid mother and Liam.
“Well, now you do. They’re in your corner, Octavia. We all are. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”
I let his words burrow themselves beneath my skin. “You don’t think it’s weird, though? I mean, you should have taken a psychology course. This has Freud written all over it.”
His face scrunched up in confusion. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
I smiled. “Your mother and I are very similar. You’re dating your mother, Young. The way she handled the President? That was so classically Octavia.”
Young tipped his head back and laughed before placing a hand at my back and leading me towards the parked limo. His parents had already settled in the back seat. “Maybe it’s prepared me for how to handle you.”
“I don’t need to be handled, Young.”
“That’s something my mother would say.” He then paused and cupped my cheeks, those dark eyes burning bright as he spoke. “You admitted it. You said we’re dating. Don’t you dare take it back now.”
I opened
and closed my mouth, not sure what to say. Yeah, I guess I did.
Chapter 18
Lunch with the Youngbloods was surprisingly tolerable. If I were capable of admitting when I was happy, I’d admit that it was almost fun. Maybe being rich as fuck made them easily bored. They enjoyed my quirky attitude and didn’t even seem bothered when I brought up the flasher at the institute or how I painted a mural of Young and Samuel spit roasting President Robinson.
And when it was time to leave, they invited me to visit them again.
Weird. It was so very weird.
“A couple of friends invited me out for celebratory drinks. You want to go?” Young asked while loosening his tie. We had just gotten back to his penthouse, and I was taking off my black heels.
“I thought you didn’t drink,” I prodded.
“I don’t. But one of the friends is headed to Chicago for an internship, and I’m not sure when I’ll see him again. I thought it could be fun for us to go.”
I winced. This was just one of the many aspects of his life I’d never fit in at. I didn’t do social calls or celebratory drinks with the boys. I struggled spending time with people I didn’t like, and I didn’t like most people.
“Go,” I began while looking around the empty penthouse. Renon and Noah weren’t there, but I was sure they’d show up soon. “Have fun. I need to decompress anyway. Your family surprised me.”
Young observed me for a moment before responding. “How so?” His voice held wonder and amazement, and a smile broke between his cheeks. He was enjoying catching me off guard by his family dynamic. It wasn’t what I’d expected at all. “They’re implicitly accepting. I don’t get it. I mentioned that I moved here to murder you, and they laughed.”
“They probably thought you were joking,” Young replied.
“I wasn’t.”
“I know.”
I let out a huff of air, feeling my lungs deflate. The more I learned about Nathaniel Youngblood, the more I realized that he was a phenomenal person. It was easy to see why my brother fell in love with him. It was also terrifying to think of how that love destroyed him in the end.