Petty Rage by Thandiwe Mpofu

Chapter 19

KIM

Asshole Fairy: Don’t be late!

ME:I swear you’re obsessed with me.

Asshole Fairy:And you think that’s a good thing? Don’t be fucking late.

First times are always fucking painful for some reason I still can’t fathom.

The first time I went to the beach, I stepped on a perfectly hidden sea urchin. And thanks to that, I couldn’t walk for a while.

The first time Luci disappeared, was the first time we ever got evicted from the little one-bedroom apartment we had taken up residence in when we lived in Seattle.

That was also the first time I had held out hope that my mother was ready to change when she came back home with a job at a local restaurant, and semi-new clothes for me to wear for school.

Hell, she’d even gone grocery shopping and for the first time, we had a fully stocked refrigerator full of food that I’d only seen on T.V.

It was also the first time Luci and I got along, in a way.

She hadn’t screamed at me.

She was kind, funny as hell and she’d told me all about her life before… well, before she chose the path that had bent out of shape and was struggling.

She told me stories about how she grew up as an only child—like me—and how she had hair just like mine when she was my age, but she had to get the big chop after some boy at her school stuck multiple pieces of gum in it while she was asleep in the library.

“Never let some boy mess with your crown, butterfly.”

That was the first time I’d heard her call me that, but for some reason I felt in my soul, it wasn’t the first time she’d called me that.

I just wasn’t aware of the other times.

But… what goes up, must certainly come down at some point.

The big crash with my mother came just a few weeks later.

I don’t know how she did it or if it was a mistake on her part or if she actively and deliberately looked for a dealer but the next thing I knew, she was gone for three days.

I had to catch buses to go to her workplace, only to discover that my mother was a thief—only I didn’t like the way the manager had phrased my mother’s theft, so I also kneed him the groin, grabbed some of the takeaway bags that were ready to be collected, and ran out of there like the wind.

Soon after, the eviction happened. I lived on the cold, unsafe streets of Seattle, perfecting the art of pickpocketing until one day I found her, sleeping the stupor off in some fancy Phantom that belonged, surprise, surprise, to her dealer.

So yeah, first time anything sucks, and so does my first time waking up fully employed and ready to take on the day only to go downstairs with my sisters in tow to find my tires slashed.

“You’ve got to be—” I catch myself, and clamp my jaw shut.

“Kimmy,” Laura calls. “How is it possible that all tires have a flat at the same time?”

I’m relieved that they haven’t seen the perfect slashes that… FUCKING NOAH sliced through my tires!

It doesn’t take a freaking genius to decipher the message. He doesn’t want me to work for his mother, his texts from last night were fucking clear.

Now that I think of it, he sent me those texts while he was right here, doing this!

That good for nothing…

No, Kim. Don’t let him rile you up on a Monday. Not today, Satan.

Choosing to breathe before I choose violence, I open my eyes and immediately spot the sticker of a pixie or maybe it’s a fairy… only upon closer inspection, I notice that it’s not a fucking pixie or even a fairy.

It’s some sort of mutated thing—that’s the best description I have right now—with snakes poking out of its eyes.

I quickly rip it off the hood only to discover a second surprise.

I quickly grab Laura and Casey’s tiny hands and step away from the car, my face flaming red as I stare at what else was left on the hood of my car.

“Kim? What’s wrong?” Casey asks, her voice small.

I have to physically shake myself so I can respond.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I whisper, afraid to speak up. I don’t want to alert them or bring their attention to what I just saw. “I think we have to call a cab and get you both to your new school! Are you excited?”

“Yes!” Casey says, practically jumping up and down. She’s had so much energy these days, it’s adorable as hell.

“Kimmy, can we call your new boss?” Laura asks excitedly. “Maybe she’ll come and pick us up?”

Uh, I don’t think so.

Her son not only slashed my tires, but he left me two dead kittens on the hood of my car as well as an older cat, lying next to them… dead.

Jesus. How twisted is he?

“Come on, let’s go.”

Do I call the police? What do I do?

When I get my hands on Noah, I swear to God, I’m going to wring his freaking neck.

How could he do something so vulgar?

I fish out my phone from my pocket, about to call for a cab when a sleek, black Range Rover pulls up right in front of us.

Squinting to try and see through the tinted windows, I watch as Christina’s driver from last week steps out of the car.

“Miss Allory,” he greets, tipping his hat at me. “I was sent to give you this car.”

Laura and Casey are barely holding their excitement in, but I taught them well. In front of strangers, we hold it together.

“What?” I stutter.

“I was told to tell you directly, so I quote, ‘take the car, Kimberly. I don’t appreciate tardiness.’ That’s from the top.”

“And by the top, I assume you mean…”

“Master Montreal.”

I swear, if I was drinking something like my Iced venti latte like most girls on any Netflix show, I’d have spit the drink out. Instead, my jaw drops.

“You can’t be serious.”

“He’s currently waiting for you, Miss. If it’s all right, I can also take the young Misses to school so you can make your way to the estates.”

Now this is where Laura and Casey’s self-control runs out.

Both of them squeal and start jumping up and down.

“Oh, please, Kimmy, can we go with Mr.…” Laura trails off and looks up at the kind gentleman.

“Houghton,” the older man says with a small smile. “You can call me Mr. Houghton, Miss.”

“Yes, can we go with Mr. Houghton?”

“Uh, that would be great, but I don’t see the car that he…”

At this point I should already know not to ask silly questions because right at the street, and attracting attention from prying, nosey neighbors, is a black limo.

“A limo?”

“That’s from Madam. A special gift for the girls on this beautiful Monday morning.”

Well damn.

I guess the whole flair thing her son is a master of, comes from her. But did Christina also teach her son how to leave dead cats on the hood of other people’s cars? I doubt that.

My anger returns tenfold.

So, I kiss both Laura and Casey and make sure they both have everything they need, Laura’s inhaler and Casey’s afternoon medication. The school also organized for Casey to have a special nurse that checks on her every hour. And by the school, I mean Christina made that possible.

With a big wave, they run to the limo and off they go.

It’s not easy for me to let someone take them anywhere, but today, Noah has gained my attention.

Instead of getting in the Range Rover and driving straight to the estates, I make one quick stop first. It doesn’t take long to find what I’m looking for, then I make my way to the estates. If someone told me I have steam coming out of my ears, I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m so furious, I can hardly speak when I get to the shop. I just point at what I need.

It’s game time, asshole!

But as I drive toward the mountains, I can’t help but think back to the last time I was here.

* * *

There’s a herd of wild animals stampeding in my stomach as I walk up the long, impressive driveway that leads to the Montreal estate. I haven’t really been to Noah’s house, and after all this time, I feel like turning back and running away, but I just… I have to see him.

I want the opportunity to explain myself, face to face.

I want him to understand. I had no control over my actions and now Astraea tried to kill herself. God.

She was discharged a day ago. I drove up to the estates with the intention to go and see her, to apologize again and make sure that she’s safe from my father, but instead, here I am.

As the huge mansion becomes bigger, more intimidating, I start panicking.

I can’t do this.

I freeze mid-step, but before I can turn around and leave, I hear a sweet voice speak up.

“Come on, Kim Possible. I hear you have more guts than that,” she calls. Looking up, I see Christina, Noah’s Mom, standing in the open doorway with the light from the foyer filtering behind her making her look like a giant—which she is.

She stands there with her arms folded, watching me with an unreadable expression on her face as I stand there, looking like I have a stick up my ass.

“You can’t run away now,” she says, watching me and I can see the dare in her eyes as she tilts her head to the left. “Unless of course you really are a coward.”

Fuck. Me.

Why the hell did I come here?

I knew one day I was going to have to face her, but I wasn’t counting on tonight.

We met at the hospital the day I went to confess everything to Astraea, but I don’t think she liked me.

With dread gripping my throat making it almost impossible to breathe, I start walking the rest of the way toward her, knowing damn well that there’s no way I can just up and run without looking like a coward.

She already hates me and now this thing with Noah…

“Hello,” I croak. Wincing, I close my eyes when I hear how horrible my voice sounds. I clear it and start again, trying to look and seem confident but I fail miserably. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was looking for…”

“My son,” she says, cutting me off.

“Yes,” I whisper, shame, guilt and longing filtering through me until all I need right now, is to see him. I want to be in his arms. “Is he here?”

She’s silent for a while, studying me from my high ponytail to my grunge clothes then down to my dirty sneakers.

I know what she sees. I’m from the trailer park.

I come from nothing.

My mother is addicted to the man who raped her and now that he’s in town, she’s excited and uncontrollable. I hate the way she looks at my sisters, telling them about the man who would use his own children just to destroy other kids.

To Noah’s mother, I’m no good for her son.

To Noah himself, he hates me, and to myself, I’m not good for myself either.

I’m filth, a liar and don’t deserve to be standing in front of this beautiful woman.

“Why are you crying?” her soft voice reaches my ears and I glance up at her, surprised.

“Crying?” I question, with a frown.

Her face softens as she looks at me and then she comes down the stairs until she’s right in front of me. Without hesitation, she reaches forward and with her delicate, soft thumb, wipes the tears on my right cheek.

I gasp and step back, my eyes wide as I stare at her, terror and something else stirring in me. I didn’t even know that I was crying. Where is all of this coming from?

“I’m not crying,” I whisper hurriedly, wiping away the tears that keep falling. Stop it, damn it!

“Oh dear,” she says, her voice so soft, it makes my heart ache. “It’s okay to cry once in a while.”

I’m so stunned I can’t even say a word. I just stare at her, feeling bewildered.

Noah does get his incredibly good looks from his mother. From the twinkle in his eyes when he’s about to be naughty to the way his entire face transforms into a breathtaking monument of art when he smiles… genuinely, it all comes from her.

But the pain, the hate and fury that’s now in his eyes…that’s all me. I did that. I caused that to happen.

“I’m sorry. I must look pathetic to you. That wasn’t my intent, I just…” I trail off, not knowing what to say.

“It’s hard to explain a broken heart, isn’t it?” she questions, and I nod mutely, more tears falling down my face.

“You’re here for him, aren’t you?” she questions, and I nod again. “I don’t know if he wants to see you though, Kim.”

Pain shoots through my chest as I look up at her. I knew this was coming. I knew I was going to be rejected, even chased away from their estate like an intruder.

“Oh,” I murmur. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

I go to turn around, but she grabs my hand with a firm grip.

I look up at her only to see a smile on her face, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint I’ve loved from the first day I saw him.

“I didn’t say you should go,” she says.

“But you just said…”

“Let me let you in on a little secret,” she whispers, tugging my hand with hers as she starts up the little stairs to the open doorway. “This is my house and so long as I’m still the woman who birthed and breastfed that boy, I don’t care if he’s in the mood to see you or not, he’ll see you.”

I can’t help but smile at that, but the moment I step through the doors of her mansion, my smile freezes on my face as I take in the splendor and opulence of this mansion.

“Wow,” I whisper under my breath, and she chuckles.

“I said the same thing the first time I saw this mansion,” she says, looking around the foyer as if seeing it for the first time. “Of course, twenty-four years ago, it was a lot different than it is now.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just keep my mouth shut.

I look down at my dirty shoes standing on the white tiles. Mortified by the dirt I’m leaving behind, I quickly toe off my shoes, not wanting another strike against me.

“No, dear, what are you doing?” Noah’s mom almost cries, a look of horror on her face as she looks down at my feet.

“I… my shoes are dirty, and I don’t want to mess up your floor,” I say sheepishly, unable to look her in the eye.

“Oh goodness, I wish you were around when Astraea and the boys were growing up,” she says, moving toward a cleverly hidden door to the side of the foyer. “They never could keep my sparkling floors clean after their messy rough-housing.”

She knows I didn’t grow up here?

“Those kids should have given me a heart attack with all that shouting, but here we are. You can go on back. He’s there.”

I can see a hooded figure sitting in the expensive, comfortable outdoor couch. There’s a fancy fire pit in the middle with a blazing fire going.

I’m not sure if it’s real or not and honestly, I don’t care because the fire that’s currently consuming my soul with each step I take toward him feels so damn real to me.

I don’t know if he sees me coming, but I try to keep my movements silent, wearing the fuzzy house slippers Christina gave me. As I get closer, I can see that his jaw is clenched tight and he’s drinking something.

Jack Daniels.

Of course, why am I not surprised?

He’s staring at Astraea’s house, a solemn look on his face and I know that he’s missing her so much.

Noah’s been spiraling out of control since I met him, but then a lot happened. Heartbreaking truths were exposed and two-faced liars like me were also revealed, and now, he hates me.

When I get close, the light from the flickering flames reveals his side profile.

An involuntary gasp leaves me. I quickly slap my palm over my open mouth, but Noah heard me.

His head snaps up and he looks to my direction. I’m close enough to see that he’s not surprised to see me, but I’m surprised to see his face. He has a black eye, a cut lip that’s still bleeding.

“Noah! What happened to you?” I rush toward him only to come to a stop when he gives the coldest stare known to man.

“She let you in?” he starts, his voice deep but it lacks emotion which is so unlike Noah.

My heart starts pounding harder in my chest, my body tense as a cold breeze picks up.

I hug myself as tightly as I can, but I don’t think the breeze is making me cold.

It’s his stare.

It’s cold and so damn hard, even the flames dancing in his gorgeous eyes do nothing to thaw the ice.

“Yes,” I start, my voice a soft whisper. “Your Mom is nice.”

He grunts, and then stares down at his bottle which I think he just opened. Then he looks at the flames.

“I bet she likes you,” he mutters, but I don’t think he likes that his mother might like me. In fact, he looks disgusted by it. “Why wouldn’t she, though? She’s a liar. Just like you.”

“Noah, please—"

“Well, it’s true,” he grunts, taking a chug of his liquor. “The women I’ve chosen to care about, give my all to—including my fucked-up ice box of a heart—are all liars.”

I slowly walk over to the other couch, directly opposite him. I don’t know if I can sit close to him, and I honestly don’t think he wants me that close to him.

“At least you have her,” I murmur, my vulnerability levels spiking up again just because I can feel his intense gaze on me. That’s what happens when I’m in his presence. I just feel so damn exposed, so raw, a lot more emotional than I want to be and ridiculously vulnerable. He does that to me without even trying. “At least you have a mother who cares.”

“Wow,” he says, letting out a low, humorless chuckle. “That’s the excuse? That’s the one thing that should explain and cover up lying to me? The fact that my mother is keeping things from me is unfortunate, but I should console myself because you have the shittiest mother on the planet?”

He stares at me across the flames, his gaze penetrating deep within my shattered soul.

“That’s not fair,” I whisper. “Using that woman to try and hurt me…”

I told Noah everything about my mother before I ever told Astraea a bit of my past. I know he still hates me because of my bloodline and now when he looks at me, I know he battles disgust and lust.

“If the lie was to protect someone else, is it truly fair to hold it against her?” Against me.

He’s silent for a while, watching me, his expression unreadable. It makes me anxious when he looks at me like that.

His jaw is ticking, reminding me of a ticking time bomb, and I know that’s exactly what Noah is.

A powder keg about to explode and when that happens, he’ll not only blow himself up, but he’ll take everyone around him down along with him.

The fucked-up thing about that? None of the shit he’s been through is his fault.

Everyone he loves did this to him. Including me.

God, how do I fix this? How do I fix my Sexy Fairy?

I get up and slowly walk over to him. He doesn’t tell me off, so I go on and kneel before him, my heart racing at an excruciating pace. With a shaky palm, I tentatively reach for the side of his face, holding my breath the entire time.

He obviously got in a pretty nasty fight. It doesn’t take much to figure with who.

The Blue Boys are fierce when they are fighting for each other, but they’re even tougher on themselves. They don’t cut each other any slack, they demand the very best from each other and recently, things have been chaotic… all of it hurting my Fairy.

“We need to clean these cuts,” I whisper breathlessly.

“Why would you pretend to care?”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Aren’t you?” he counters. “These days it’s pretty hard to tell.”

“What are you thinking?” I whisper, interlocking my fingers with his. His nostrils flare, anger starting to light up his eyes as he looks down at me.

He stares at my lips, his eyes narrowing just a bit then he looks into my eyes.

“These lips,” he says softly, his thumb softly grazing my bottom lip. “These sweet, plump lips, Kimberly.”

“Noah…”

“You know I’d do anything to get a taste of these lips,” he seethes hotly. “I’d move mountains and brave my fucking darkness just to come and get a taste of these lips.”

It’s like being butchered with a dull knife. The pain is excruciating, unbearable, and it’s not yet over.

“And now each time you speak, each time you say my fucking name, Butterfly, I’m left with the knowledge that every word these lips have ever uttered, every time you whispered my name when I kissed you, when I made you come and when you mumbled my name in your sleep—each of those times you were in fact, lying to me.”

Oh God.

My stomach flutters, my insides tighten and for a moment, I get this intuition, a little voice really that’s telling me to run.

“No, I never lied to you about us,” I whisper hotly. “Everything I ever told you was the honest truth.”

“Do you expect me to believe that?”

“I expect you to trust me.”

“Trust you?” he demands, standing up suddenly. I fall over on my ass, looking up at him. “You expect me to fucking trust you?”

“Yes!” I say seriously, trying my best to hold my own. “Noah, I’d never do anything to hurt you or Astraea or anyone else for that matter! I had no choice!”

He starts pacing then, occasionally drinking his Jack and trying not to look at me, but just like me, we’re both so helplessly drawn to each other it’s not even funny.

“Please tell me what you’re thinking, baby.”

I used to have access to the rawest, truest form of him and now… nothing.

“I’m just wondering where I fucking went wrong,” he says, his voice clipped, hard and angry.

“What do you mean?”

“I totally missed the mark with you.”

Oh God.

“The first day I saw you, I thought you were it for me and fuck me, when you looked into my eyes, you saw it too, didn’t you?”

I did, but I’m not brave enough to admit it, so I look away as hate, bitterness and something that feels a lot like longing filters between us until the blood in my veins starts rushing.

“You know the shittiest thing about that moment was?” he questions, then takes a sip of his liquor. “I fucking knew you’d obliterate me.”

Funny, that’s what I thought the moment I allowed him into my soul.

“I saw the hunger in your eyes, Kim,” he says my name like a curse he can’t shake, and he knows it’s going to end his life. “I knew you were one of those people who would do anything to get ahead in life. I knew you would be a fighter. I knew you had issues. I knew you were dirty, twisted and a goddess-freak in bed. I knew that. I fucking saw that in you. I felt it in my cock that you love sucking so much.”

My God, that filthy mouth does things to me…

“But what I didn’t count on was that you’d be a liar,” he grits out. “And now, you’re sitting in front of me, on my land, looking like the trailer trash you are.” Oh God. “But fuck me if you’re not the fiercest, sexiest little thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. And now here you sit, trying to justify your lies like you don’t know how much I fucking hate them!”

Shame crashes into me and I look down now, unbale to hold his gaze. I can feel the heat from the flame but I’m still cold, so I hug myself even tighter.

“I didn’t lie to you by choice!” I cry.

“You fucking did, and you know it!” he growls now. “You had so many opportunities to come clean, so many times that you could’ve warned the girl you call your best friend.”

In that moment, something in me just snaps. I stand up to face him, too wound up, hurt and emotional to keep it all in.

“How could I tell her?” I shout now, guilt and helplessness churning in me.

“Noah,” I start, unshed tears flooding my eyes, making my voice and chin tremble with repressed sobs. “Don’t hate me because I look like my sperm-donor of a father.”

* * *

Now, years later the fact that I’m driving up to the Montreal mansion as an official employee to the madam of the house is pretty strange but I don’t have much time to dwell on that.

“Deep breaths, bitch. We need the money, not a murder charge.”

When I drive up to the stately golden gates, they stand open as if they were already waiting for me.

As I approach the estate, my jaw drops to the floor of the car when I take in the scene before me.

I’d thought the gates were open for me; they weren’t because in the driveway, there are moving trucks, and then there’s one huge semi at the end. A semi unloading…. cars.

There’s a sleek fire-engine red Lamborghini, a black Aston Martin, a Ferrari, a G-Wagon and the only one that’s so out of place and a bit peculiar from the tastes of a guy who likes fast, sexy machines he can control, is a black and blue Range Rover Sport—just like this car.

“Oh, hell no.”

This asshole is moving back in!

I mean after what happened last night and the threat he made, I thought he’d just crawl back into whatever hole he’d slithered his way out of and die, but instead, that alcoholic with a death wish has decided to come back home.

I mean what else was I expecting when he literally told me to my face that he was going to make my life a living hell?

But that’s the thing about Noah. Contrary to what most people think, he always keeps his word.

If he tells you he’s got you, then that’s true; but when he tells you that he’s going to make you sorry…

But I don’t take any crap from anyone.

If he’s going to make me sorry, I’m going to make him beg!

I slowly drive toward the parking space where I assume is the back entrance used by employees but as I park and get out of the car, I’m met with an elegantly dressed Christina, seeping a cup of tea as she frowns at me.

“Uh, good morning,” I mutter, trying to be polite.

“Why did you park here?”

Ah, so she was watching me.

“I saw how busy the front was with all the…uh, moving trucks and hauling trucks that are clearly moving hell into your beautiful home.”

She chuckles softly. I round to the back of the car and take out my little gift.

“That’s a lovely box. What’s in there?” Christina questions.

“Oh nothing, just a few things that will help me settle into my new job.” I keep my voice neutral and pleasant enough so she doesn’t suspect a thing.

“Aww, this is what I like to hear!” she says gleefully. “It’s such a relief to see how excited you are even though last night went a bit sideways.” I smile and nod, not revealing a glimpse of the ire I’m feeling right now. “You even dressed up!”

Yeah, today I ditched the jeans and decided to wear my black strapless corset style jumpsuit, paired with a white lace top with the buttons open just slightly at the top.

“You have great fashion sense, don’t you?”

“I love dressing up. Well, when I can, I do.”

“Well, my dear, you’ll be dressing up quite a lot,” she says as we start walking toward the house,

Of the three mansions I’ve been to, Astraea’s, King’s, and now the Montreal’s, I think I love the design of the Montreal’s best.

There’s just something about it that makes it stand out. I haven’t been to Emmett’s, and honestly, I’ve never heard a word about their mansion, but I think this one is the winner because of Christina.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, your first assignment is pretty huge, my dear.”

“My first assignment?”

“Oh yes.” She sips her cup of coffee and ignores the workers who are bringing in random pieces of furniture and taking some stuff out as well.

“I’m sorry, doesn’t he have furniture already?”

“He’s redecorating his wing.”

Well, I’m sorry I asked. Rich people problems are just so frustrating. But when it comes to Noah and what that jerk did, I choose violence.

“And you’re okay with that?” I start, knowing damn well that I’m instigating. “I mean, it’s you who decorated every inch of this beautiful home, right?”

“Yes! I put my heart and soul into this.”

“And now he’s redecorating? If it were me, I’d be offended because the message this is sending is that the skills and competency of the person who decorated his place initially are lacking. He probably thinks it’s crap or else, why would he do all this? He obviously doesn’t appreciate the time you put into all of this elegance and style.

Christina stops walking, her face transforming with realization.

“Oh my God! You’re so right!” she exclaims. “That’s exactly how I feel.”

Good.

“I know, Christina. The message he’s sending is pretty clear, and to be very honest with you, it’s very disrespectful. As your right-hand woman, I say you tell these men to stop what they’re doing, go up there and remove every piece of furniture that you ever bought him and take it away.”

Christina looks at me with wide eyes filled with excitement.

“Yes! That’s exactly what we’re going to do!”

And with that, she walks over to the nearest worker and tells him exactly what she wants done.

“Are you sure ma’am?”

“It’s my house and I say take it all away.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The guy whistles, gaining the attention of his team. Christina and I stand on the patio, watching as the plan changes. Instead of moving furniture in and out, their workload becomes easier and more efficient as they move things out. In just a few more trips, the men are done.

“And good riddance,” Christina says. “Now, I just need to go lock all the bedrooms and make sure he won’t have a choice but to talk to me.”

“There you go, Christina! He might be sole proprietor, but you are still his mother.”

Yeah, I choose violence any day over feeling pathetic.

Christina has one side down and this box has the other.

Freaking asshole left dead cats on the hood of my car! I say this is justified.