Petty Rage by Thandiwe Mpofu

Chapter 23

NOAH

Past

DANGEROUS K:You never said a word.

ME:And your cheek was red.

DANGEROUS K:I was flushed.

ME:She’s being abusive, isn’t she?

DANGEOUS K:I got it.

ME:I swear to God, one day she’s going to pay…

DANGEROUS K:Happy new year, Noah. Let’s just go back to being strangers.

ME:We were always fucking strangers. It’s you who forgot. Have a crappy year.

Present

Iwanted to take the girls to school myself, but because of fucking Kimberly, I had to take care of this glaring emergency first, my damn hair.

I shampooed, I fucking conditioned, I did every fucking thing some random YouTube video said but it didn’t work. And for that, I clicked the thumbs down thingy and became that internet asshole that leaves scathing comments with no provocation whatsoever.

I’m running late and just as I’m trying my best to tie this fucking tie, that’s when I hear a knock at my door but before I can tell whoever it is to fuck off, the door swings open and in struts Kim fucking Possible with what she might classify as a victorious smirk on her face.

“Your mother would like to talk to you,” she says sweetly, knowing damn well that I look like a fucking clown, and I might not make it to this fucking meeting.

I give her an icy side-eye, but she has the audacity to wink, then crosses her arms as soon as she passes the phone to me.

“Yeah?”

“Noah Ethan James Montreal!”

Fuck! Kimberly put the phone on speaker phone! Sneaky eavesdropper but since she wants to listen in on this call and she doesn’t appear to be going anywhere, I’m going to accommodate her.

“Yes, mother?”

“Why aren’t you at the office, Noah? Do you know what time it is, baby?” Mom questions, her voice strained.

“I actually have no idea, let me ask your stunt double,” I mutter, looking straight at Kim with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s 7:51 a.m.,” Kim says woodenly. I smirk.

Even though she has a considerable advantage on making my day fucking horrible, I still have the ability to grate on her nerves and that’s a win for me.

The tides will shift in this war, they have to. I won’t lose to a girl who comes to work wearing clothes from Walmart.

“Noah, I know you don’t need me to tell you how important this meeting is,” Mom goes on, her voice still low with stress. “You need to make sure that you get those old hags on your side.”

“Old hags?”

“The board members that are aligned with your—”

“That piece of shit is not my father,” I snap.

Mom blows out a breath. “Okay, sweetheart. Here’s the thing. We both know David has been trying to get a foot in the door and now that it’s almost your birthday and the company will be yours, he’s going to do his best to thwart that possibility.”

Fuck.

From the corner of my eye, I see Kim watching me. If there’s anyone in the world who knows just how much I fucking hate my sperm donor of a father, it’s her. And since she’s my mother’s proxy, she’ll be voting in my fucking favor.

“That’s not going to fucking happen,” I bite out, holding Kim’s gaze. I can only imagine what she sees in my eyes right now. Because fuck, I feel like setting this fucking world on fire.

“But you’re going to be late,” Mom stresses.

“Mom, they won’t fucking start without me,” I grit out. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Go with Kimberly.”

“That’s the plan.”

And with that, I hang up, still holding Kim’s gaze.

We’re silent in the room, the tension spiking like never before but Kimberly has never been one to cower, no, that’s not her style. Instead, she steps into the fucking storm.

She walks over to the bed where I laid out the suit I’ll be wearing. Removing it from the custom hangers with my initials on it, she strides over to me, holding my gaze, then she helps me shrug it on.

Next thing I know, she’s standing right in front of me with her finger burning a path from my collar around my neck as she starts adjusting and knotting my tie with expert and steady fingers.

“Where did you learn that from?”

“When Laura was eight, she was obsessed with Olivia Pope from Scandal and so she started asking to wear suits, but she insisted on the ties because then the kids at her school would take her a bit more seriously when she gave her smart answers without giving her a hard time for being a know-it-all.”

I can’t help but ease up just a tiny bit, but still tense with having this girl this close to me.

“And you being you, you got her the suits and ties.”

“Her logic was far better than mine,” she murmurs, then she looks up at me through her thick eyelashes. “I wanted to scare the hell out of the kids that were saying all that shit. So, she’s far better than me.”

I smirk. Of course, that’s what she wanted to do. But the difference between us is, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Later on, after this damn meeting.

“Is that what you plan on doing today at the meeting?” she questions. “Scaring the board members into aligning with you?”

“I don’t see how scaring a bunch of board members—that don’t really know the underworkings of the company whose board they sit on—will work, seeing as you fucking dyed my hair green.”

She mock gasps, echoing what I did to her about her tires. “My goodness, someone did this to you? And here I thought you wanted to try out something new.”

I stare pointedly at her fingers that still spot a bit of green. She quickly hides them behind her, such a shitty attempt too.

“Will he be there?” she finally asks seriously. My jaw clenches and the thing in my fucking chest starts raging both from her nearness and from the rage that’s coursing through my blood. That man might be the one who murdered my brother then disappeared, and now, he wants back in? No fucking way. “Noah, breathe.”

I hadn’t realized that I was literally bristling with rage until now when I feel Kim’s touch on my hand. She has this uncanny ability of reaching me when there’s nothing but high tides and violent rage brewing in me. But it’s her tentative yet electric touch that silences everything and makes me stand at attention for her.

“I’m fucking breathing,” I grit out.

“Like a dying pig, sure.” I shake my head, moving away from her. She’s always been dangerous to my fucking well-being, but when she did me one better, she showed me her true colors. I can’t fall victim to her again. That’ll only make me a damn fool. “You can’t let him antagonize you. You don’t even know if he’ll show up at the meeting or not.”

“True,” I mutter, looking out the window as a plan starts coming together in my head. “But you’re going to find out.”

“What?”

“You’re going to go downtown,” I say simply, turning around to look at her. “Of course, you’ll have to fucking change out of that mess.”

“This mess?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, let me rephrase that,” I say sarcastically. “You’re going to change into better clothes appropriate for the role you’re keeping via proxy, then you’re going to go down there.”

“Me?” She steps back, a cute frown marring her beautiful face. “It’s your meeting, at your company and you heard your mother, you have to be there.”

“Yeah, well she isn’t here now, is she? But seeing as you represent her now, you’re going over there and you’re going to stall the hell out of them.”

“Noah!” She shakes her head. “I can’t stall them.”

“Yes, you can and you fucking will,” I stalk over to her slowly. “If I made any of this sound like a fucking request then I take it back. I’m not asking. You’re going to make them wait for me.”

“Telling me what to fucking do, huh?”

“Don’t act like this is fucking new,” I whisper, watching as her flimsy shirt reveals her hardened nipples. “I seem to recall you loving the hell out it when I told you to spread those legs and take me.”

The storm in her grey eyes starts swirling, matching her hair that I’m sure will make waves in front of those old, stuffy board members in a few minutes.

“So, while I stall a bunch of people that don’t even know me all in the name of Christina Montreal, what in God’s name will you be doing? Because that green hair won’t wash out for weeks.”

“Ah, so you did do it, little devil,” I purr.

“It was just a fact, Noah, but seriously, what will you be doing?”

“I have something urgent to take care of,” I say, grabbing my phone as I leave the room. “And one more thing, Kim. If I get back and my furniture is not in my wing, you’ll regret it.”

Proper girls who know when to heed the warning would jump and quickly nod their heads in agreement, but not Kim Possible. She senses the danger with much sharper senses, but she doesn’t blink. She gets sassy.

“The movers are booked, Noah,” she says, ducking under my arm so she can escape. “Why don’t you make a wish and have them make you a priority?”

My fingers wrap around her wrist, and I pull her back until her back is plastered to my front. I’m sure she can feel my hardness and the annoyance in my voice when I lean in to whisper in her ear, “The only wish I’d make right now would not be in your favor, Kimmy.”

And apparently, she gets seriously turned on.

* * *

After making sure Kimberly is gone to the office—with an attire ready to make people stall—I do my own wardrobe change.

I grab a pair of ripped jeans, a random black shirt, a black hoodie with a huge skull on the front and then get into my G-Wagon and drive over to George’s mansion. I leave my car running and run up to his front door.

I know the jerk is already up so when I ring the doorbell—there’s no fucking way I’m going in this fucking house and he knows it—he answers within seconds, holding his baby in his arms and my breath catches.

“I’ll give you one thing,” I say, looking down at the sleeping bundle. “Baby Claire is beautiful.”

The smile the man has on his face as he looks down at his child is one of the most purest smiles I’ve ever seen on his face.

That’s the look a parent should give their kid.

One of love instead of hate, envy, jealousy and fucking disappointment. David did damage on me that I don’t think I’ll ever shake.

“Love the new hair,” the asshole says as he looks at me warily.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” I mumble, pissed off at Kim for this. She could’ve picked a better color.

“I’m not stupid enough to believe you came here for tea,” George mutters seriously.

“I need your help.”

“Anything.”

I give him the CliffsNotes version of the plan and with each word, his eyebrows rise inch by fucking inch until they’re both up to his hairline.

“Seriously?”

“It could be you soon, consider this as a practice run.”

“When you put it like that…”

From there, it doesn’t take long for him to run upstairs and change into an outfit similar to mine, but it’s darker and fucking intimidating, but there’s something about his… “Wait, that’s my t-shirt I got from that Goo Goo Dolls concert, isn’t it?” I call from my car as he heads to his fleet of fucking Phoenix Corp rides on the circular driveway.

The jerk has the audacity to side-eye as he flips around the damn bat he has in his hands.

“Choose your battles wisely, Noah!” George calls out. “I’m the one who grabbed the shirt. You took it after we fucked that chick.”

“Hmm, I remember that night. What was her name again?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Me neither. How sad!”

And then he’s in his car. I drive out and head toward Emmett’s estate.

I’m not shocked at all when I see he’s already waiting in his matte black customized Jeep at the front gate, with a scowl on his face. The dude is punctual as all hell; it used to irritate me but today it works well in our fucking favor since I don’t have long until Kim will be blowing up my phone for attempting to bump a meeting.

“This must be a new fucking low,” Emmett shouts, shaking his head into his G-Wagon.

“No, it’s not and besides, here you are.”

“Does Kimberly know—” I cut him off before he continues with that shit.

“No, she doesn’t know and as far as we’re all concerned, she’ll never know.”

“Asshole.”

We roll out with a single mission in mind. Initially, it was just going to be me and Emmett, but I figured George adds weight. King would’ve been a better fit because that jerk suffers from Chronic Resting Asshole face which would be useful today, but considering our target, we got this.

We pass through and pick up an old friend from Spider, then we head to the scene of the fucking crime I’d bet my entire bank account traces back to a single little jerk who thinks he can bully little kids.

We pull up at Westbrook Blues Prep School just as the kids walk out of morning assembly about to head to class.

I smirk.

I get out of my car, not bothering to switch off the loud rap music that makes the entire car vibrate with the bass in the song.

Emmett and George have their hoods up and all eyes are on us, albeit they’re little kids, they’re eyes are wide as they gasp, looking at us.

I go to open the back door for Chubby, Spider’s cuddly and downright sweet Rottweiler, then I swap out his custom-made leash—fucking Spider—for a chain for a more dangerous aesthetic.

But the thing is, Chubby is harmless and not violent at all, but the kids don’t know that. All they see is a big Rottweiler that gives off the desired effect that I’m going for here.

“Uh, excuse me,” a frightened teacher approaches, but as soon as she sees it’s me, she frowns. “Mr. Montreal, Mr. Easton and Mr. Fields?”

“It’s Beaumont now, Mrs. Cho,” George says.

“Of course, sir,” Mrs. Cho says with a shaky voice at seeing us. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing we can’t fix ourselves,” Emmett says quietly.

“We just need to know where one of your exceptional and outstanding students, one Laura Allory, is,” I say seriously.

I don’t know if it’s the scowl on George’s face, the impassive look on Emmett’s or the thunderous look on mine, but Mrs. Cho jumps and points at a classroom I’d know from anywhere.

“That’s our old seventh grade class,” Emmett mumbles.

“The one you and King left some pretty impressive graffiti in right after George knocked that kid out.”

“Why not? My sister was being bullied in there.”

“And so is Lolo.”

I ignore the looks they give and make my way down the walkway to the classroom with Chubby beside me. Emmett’s on my left and George on my right, when we get to the class…

I immediately spot Lolo and she’s fighting tears as some jerk laughs in her face.

“Is that Kimberly’s sister, Lolo?” Emmett asks. I nod. “Hmm, we need to nip that in the bud.”

“Hey, what’s that kid’s name?” George asks some random kid.

“His name is Brandon, he terrifies everyone,” the kid says in a whisper as if she’s scared to be heard by this Brandon kid.

He terrifies everyone, huh? Well, we’ll see.

We walk into the class and the kids fall silent as all eyes swing to us. The teacher’s at the front of the class, typing something onto her tablet, effectively ignoring what’s going on at the back, that is, until she sees us and Chubby.

“May I help you?” she stutters.

“No, but we want to see Brandon.”

The kid looks up at us with wide eyes. I narrow my gaze at him as I look between him and Lolo who’s looking at me, shocked.

“W-what is going on?”

“I suggest you get back to teaching, as this might be your last day,” George says smoothly and I head toward the table where Brandon sits. Lolo is the youngest in her class which means she must’ve skipped a grade. But after watching the way Astraea hated school and I know Kim had a fucking hard time at school as well, I won’t allow Lolo to go through any crap.

“Are you Brandon?” I ask, my voice low and hard.

The kid nods, his face pale making his eyes bulge out even more.

“You’re the so-called bully of the class, huh?”

“I—I…” he stutters.

“Is he the one who treats everyone badly?” I ask the class.

“YES!” they all yell out.

“Is he the one that makes others cry?”

“Yes!”

“And he’s a bad boy wanna be?”

“Yes!”

“Well then, Brandon,” I whisper, my voice low and sinister, enjoying the hell out of it when Chubby decides to sniff the kid like he’s checking for drugs, but I know he’s looking for Beef Jerky. Spider trained Chubby to do everything besides actually be terrifying. “It seems you torment every kid in your class, Brandon.”

“I… I don’t mean to,” the kid stutters.

“Then why do you do it?” I demand. “And you better be honest because Spike here eats liars.”

To my relief, Chubby bares his teeth at the kid but I know he’s yawning. Lazy ass dog. Love him.

“No, please,” the kid starts backing away. “I don’t… I don’t have any friends.”

And there it is.

“Why do you think that is, Brandon?” George asks from beside me, staring down at the kid. “Do you think the way you treat others plays a part with your loneliness?”

Brandon’s lips are trembling, and I’m pretty fucking sure he’s going to pee his fucking pants. That would be a shame as he’s wearing khakis.

“Yes,” he whispers. “No one likes me.”

Knowing damn well that the rest of the class is listening in, I stare him down. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Why are you asking me?” I ask.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“I didn’t hear a single thing.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

I scoff. “Hey, Easton! Did you hear what this kid just mumbled?” I call out.

Emmett’s a huge, intimidating and scary asshole, so when the kid catches his gaze… it happens.

He pees himself.

I almost get out of character as laughter bubbles up my throat, but I hold it together just barely.

“Oh, what a mess you’ve made of yourself there, Brandon,” I tsk, emphasizing his name. “Now see, being a mean bully will only leave you lonely with no friends. So, again, what do you say?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll never bully anyone ever again! I’ll never make fun of anyone ever again! I won’t laugh at disabled people or people with less than I have!”

Whoa, that’s a whole confession.

“Good,” I say, nodding. “But come here and apologize to my best friend for whatever you were saying when I walked in and whatever else you did to make her uncomfortable during her first few weeks at this school.”

I glance at Lolo, her face is a bit red but the smile on her face… it melts a part of my heart that I hadn’t known was fucking ice cold.

“Laura, I’m sorry,” Brandon says seriously and to my shock, Lolo nods and then offers him her blazer.

“Maybe you can use this to cover yourself and you can go to the office for another pair of pants,” she says sweetly.

George’s brows shoot up at the act of undeserved kindness, then he leans in to whisper in my ear, “Are you sure she’s Kimberly’s sister?”

“Oh,” Lolo calls out as Brandon goes. “Keep the blazer, no one wants that.”

“Never mind,” George breathes.

With a wink to Lolo, I grab Chubby and we make our way out, but not before I hear the awed whispers.

“Wow, Laura, you’re best friends with the Blue families?”