Petty Rage by Thandiwe Mpofu

Chapter 24

KIM

Past

Blue Fairy:What do you dream of?

ME:Are you talking to me now?

Blue Fairy:Just answer the fucking question, everything else doesn’t matter.

ME:But it does.

Blue Fairy:Close your eyes and pretend like this is another time, in another universe where you and I find each other and we’ll be together without taming this fucking crazy sexual hunger we have for each other and then when we pause to catch out fucking breath, we’ll be diving deeper into what makes us who we are. Are you game?

ME:Noah… I want that. More than you’ll ever know.

Blue Fairy:Then tell me. What do you dream of?

ME:I don’t dream. I have nightmares.

Blue Fairy:Okay.

ME:You’re not going to ask about the nightmares?

Blue Fairy:I saw what you were hiding from me when you wanted me to fuck you in the dark. I saw the long, jagged scars on your beautiful back. I know someone hurt you, badly and I know you’re terrified of them coming back because if it was Larry who did it personally, you wouldn’t be scared to show me. After all, he’s gone. Someone else did that to you and I also know that I’m going to kill him.

ME:You don’t even know who did it.

Blue Fairy:It’s only a matter of time…

Blue Fairy:And you do have dreams, Butterfly. You’re just too scared to ever let anyone in or let your fucking guard down to show them. And I thought I was more than just ‘any-fucking-one’.

Present

Iwalk in the lobby of the building with my fucking heart in my throat. Urgh, I hate this nervousness I’m feeling all thanks to Noah! He just pushed me into this and now here I am, waking into a fancy building I’ve only been to one other time with the owner.

At least I look cute and fashionable in my charcoal black blazer that reaches the end length of my short skirt and a black lace top with six-inch glossy Louboutin heels. To top it all off, I styled my ombre colored hair in a sleek bob and smoky cat eyes to look fierce.

“Miss Allory!” One of the receptionists I saw the other day calls out, hurrying over to me. “Miss Allory, I’m so glad you’re here!”

She looks stressed out and out of her mind, clutching folders and files in her arms as she hurries up to me. She reminds me so much of me when I started high school. Hungry, out of sorts and made late after cleaning up my mother’s vomit all over my tattered school bag.

“Hello. Can I help you with those?” I ask, feeling sorry for her.

“Oh, I… it’s all right,” she says breathlessly. “I might be newish here, but I got it, thank you though.”

I can see the determination in her eyes and for that, I respect her.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everyone is here. We’ve been waiting for you and Mr. Montreal.”

Ah shit.

“Yes, well, Noah is on his way.”

“Really? What time will he be here, do you think? They are not really a patient bunch.”

Fucking Noah, throwing me to the damn wolves while he does whatever the hell he’s doing.

“What’s your name?”

“Eva.”

“Nice to meet you, Eva. You can call me Kim.”

“Of course, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Kim. I’m your personal assistant.”

Personal assistant? No one told me this job comes with… a personal assistant.

“Oh, that’s cool. Tell you what, why don’t you lead me to where these people are waiting and I’ll take it from there.”

Eva looks worried at that. “Oh, I don’t want to leave you alone with them.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I think it’s best you come see for yourself.”

With that, we walk over to the bank of elevators and she uses her key card to access the top floor.

“Tell me, Eva, what’s going on up there?” I ask softly so as not to spook her further. She looks like she’s ready to flee screaming like a banshee.

“I don’t know how to put this. It’s complicated.”

“I’ll do my best to keep up.”

“Well, first, they are very pissed off that Mr. Montreal is late to the meeting and also, there’s a bit of tension in the room.”

“Describe ‘a bit.’”

“Okay, I mean a lot of tension.”

That makes me pause but before I can ask the one question that matters and will gauge the mood going in, the elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open.

In an obvious rush to do her job, Eva steps out and looks back to see if I’m following along. I muster all the confidence I can and make my way down the hallway. We pass Noah/Christina’s office that we were in the first time I came here.

I don’t notice the beauty of the place. All I see are the glass doors at the end of the hallway with a long table where about fifteen people are seated.

I can see the scowls and exasperation on their faces from here. I can only imagine what they’ll think of me—some random girl with lavender-grey hair. This is so going to be painful and I bet this was Noah’s plan all along. For me to embarrass myself after I snuck into his room in the early hours of the morning and dyed his hair green.

It was a little silly, but when this meeting was scheduled, I wanted him to suffer a bit of mortification. But the jerk wasn’t fazed at all, making my sisters laugh right before they had to go to school and then putting on a suit only to send me in first.

Urgh, his confidence was both arousing and maddening, I didn’t even know if it was right.

“This way, Miss—I mean, Kim.”

She opens the door for me and just like that I step into battle only to halt dead in my tracks when I hear the voice that greets me as I enter.

“And who are you?”

An earth-shattering shiver goes through me from the strands of my hair to the soles of my feet.

Frozen, I stare at the dashing handsome man, dressed to kill in his three-piece suit with a hand in his pocket, standing at the head of the table.

In the space of a heartbeat, I notice how he stands—with a refined air of self-importance and wealth. I notice the few distinguished grey hairs at the sides of his head, giving him a salt and pepper look that, if he was anyone else, he’d be classified as a Zaddy because well, he is incredibly handsome… and he looks just like his son.

“Monty,” I breathe, staring at him in shock as fear snakes its way into the pit of my stomach as I finally put the face to a name I hear in my nightmares just before I hear the unmistakable crack of the whip before it lit fire across my back when I was thirteen and fresh out of juvie. “You’re Monty.”

Monty which was probably short for Montreal.

Monty, who was drinking and laughing with the man who abused me, used me to his own ends and never gave a damn about me even though he had raped my mother and threatened her not to get rid of me when she got pregnant.

Monty, who is no longer an angry shadow who circles back to haunt me every now and then, reminding me of how useless and unloved I was by my father when he let his friend degrade me right in front of him.

Monty, Larry’s friend, is standing right in front of me and there’s no doubt that he’s David Montreal.

“The stupidity, the foolishness and the devil should be beaten out of children.”

“I think I want to try that as well,” I hear the drunk man say sloppily. “Let me have a go.”

He’s the man who whipped me with so much force, so much rage, cursing me when he missed and continued until I lost consciousness. He’s the Monty, the man whose voice I vowed never to forget and well, I kept that vow. Because now, here he is, looking at me with eyes… eerily similar to his son’s.

Oh God.

* * *

I’m still not sure how I manage to stay upright or how I’m able to move my legs to keep moving into the room as the biggest shock of my life stares right at me, watching me.

“Excuse me, who are you?” David Montreal demands.

Since that Hell Day so many years ago, I never held a candle in the hopes that I’d meet this man, but now that I’m looking directly at him, now that I know who he is, I can’t help but allow the urge to reach for my knife that’s strapped to my inner thigh to consume my thoughts.

I straighten my back and head to one of two available chairs of the fifteen around the table.

“I asked you a question, little girl.”

I take my time, trying to gather my strength, but the truth is, I have no idea what to do. On one hand, I want to march over to that man and stab him a hundred times before sticking my knife right through his wicked, vile brain, but on the other… I’m terrified and powerless, like I’m that little broken girl in that dungeon all over again.

“I’m Christina’s proxy,” I say, relieved when my voice comes out strong and sure. I wonder if he remembers me. I wonder if he knows my name and what he did to me. But as I look at him, there isn’t even a flicker of recognition.

“Ah, so Christina is sending in children to do her dirty work now?” he scoffs. “Well, why don’t you go back to school and call that bitch to come face me herself.”

His voice, even though sober now, is still the same from that night.

The dark, sinister cadence of it induces an ugly shiver that goes down my spine, leaving me feeling… cold, and not in the way Noah does.

“Christina is taking some time for herself at the time being,” I manage to say. “I’ll be conducting all her affairs in her stead.”

I look away from him, choosing instead to focus on the diverse group of older, rich men and one other woman that sit around the table, all eyeing me.

I can tell by the looks on their faces that they were not expecting me to represent Christina. Hell, they don’t even know me. But from the scowls I’m getting from a few, it’s easy to determine who is in league with David.

Suddenly, I don’t want that to happen.

I mean, I knew coming here that there was no way I was going to let Noah’s father screw him over but now that he’s… well, he’s the man from the shadows, there’s absolutely no fucking way he’s going to get whatever the hell he wants now.

Over my cold and rotting corpse.

“Well, since you put it like that, fine,” David says with an ugly smirk. “Then you might be able to shed light on where my son is?”

His son? Please, just call him what he really is, your meal ticket.

“Noah is on his way,” I say. “He sends his apologies for the delay.”

Nope, Noah never apologizes but well, if I’m going to stall, might as well gain a few of these old hags on my side.

“Apologies? Does he think companies are run on apologies?” David demands, his dark gaze set on me.

I don’t know if it’s the fact that his gaze sets off my internal alarms or if it’s the surging anger and self-defense kicking in, but I just let loose and lay into him.

“I think he believes—just like his mother—that it is important to show regret and concern when one is running late or if by some ridiculous circumstance, they get held up for years upon years and are only coming out from their holes now.”

“I assume you’re talking about me,” he says, the evil mirth in his eyes glistening like a cesspool of deadly vipers. “Did Christina give you a script to talk to me like that?”

“There’s no need to assume what you already know, Mr. Montreal,” I say, my voice level, betraying none of the chaos going on inside me. “You were gone and now, after ten years, you’re back. I can only guess that you’re after one thing since you’re the one who set this meeting.”

All eyes swing to David then. I guess they weren’t aware of that little fact.

“David, I thought you said you’ve been running things from Europe all this time,” another man says.

“If you weren’t here, then why were you taking praises for these incredible profits for the past two years?” another older man demands.

“I said I was running the company with Christina,” David says smoothly. “We had an agreement to take turns with the day-to-day running of Montreal Inc.”

“And yet, you don’t have a seat on this board. Not anymore seeing as you ‘abdicated’ your seat, your role and your duties as a father, a husband and the CEO of this company.” I state. “That seat belongs to Noah, as he’s the rightful heir.”

I know I’m poking the bear. I know I might come out of this bloody or dead, but I’ll be damned if I ever let this man get anything he wants.

Again, all eyes swing to David. He’s watching me and I can see his nostrils flare just a tiny bit, but he tries to play it off.

“Do you know my son?” he demands, holding my gaze.

“I’d say I know him better than you do.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. Then he moves, walking toward me with a stride that triggers that night ten years ago.

I remember the sound of his shoes on the stone floor of the dungeon.

I remember the sound of his laughter when he got good hits in.

I remember the way he breathed over my burning and bleeding, cracked open back, intensifying the pain.

“So, you think you know my son, huh?” he demands, but I can’t speak as he gets closer. “Then let me tell you something, that boy will never sit on my seat! He’s just a boy! A spoiled, self-centered boy who lashes out when he’s told no. And now, where is he?”

“He’s on his…”

“On his way! That’s what we’ve been hearing for the past hour and yet, there’s no sign of that immature, pathetic mess who doesn’t know what running a company entails. I might not have been here for a while, but I built ALL of this!” he seethes, spreading his arms out wide, knowing damn well that he has the attention of the board members as he hammers into his son’s character. “My father handed me a small company and I alone made it into what it is today! According to the Montreal legacy law, this is mine and you think I’m just going to give it to that boy because his mother and her puppet say so?”

“No!” I say, slowly crossing my legs as I face him, trying not to show my fear. “You’re not going to give him anything because newsflash, David, Noah doesn’t need anything from you! And according to that Montreal legacy law you’re citing, when you walked out on your family, you automatically left everything behind which means, you own nothing. Everything went to the next living heir, am I wrong?”

I wait for him to try and contradict me, ready for any counter he has, but it turns out, rich people don’t appreciate having their time wasted. They get straight to the fucking point.

“Answer her, David,” the woman on the other side of the table says with a low, icy tone. “Is she wrong?”

David stares me down, anger tightening his features until the asshole looks like he’s constipated. To make matters worse for him, I raise my perfectly shaped eyebrow and tap my wrist.

“The time you were complaining and wailing about is ticking. Am I wrong, Mr. Montreal?”

“No,” he bites out.

“Well, what in God’s name are we doing here, then?” the first older man says as he stands up. “You called us under the guise of internal conflict when there isn’t any.”

“It’s still my company!” David says, looking like he’s about to throw a fit.

“Not according to those legacy laws we’ve been following for generations, David,” the lady says. “Next time, send a damn email.”

One by one, the board members slowly start to get up.

“Thank you, dear, for letting us know. Please send our greetings to Christina and young Mr. Noah,” another man says. He seems to be the oldest of the bunch, but I don’t miss his intelligent gaze.

“I will, sir,” I say softly, smiling at him.

As they file out, I can feel David’s gaze still on me, his animosity and anger expanding in the room. I quickly stand up, about to leave the room as well when he suddenly grabs my arm with a forceful grasp.

“How do you know my son?” he demands. I try to fight off his grip and icy terror moves through me, and alarms start blaring at the back of my head.

“Let go of my arm!”

“You’re a fool to trust a thing that Christina says!” he seethes, his face right in front of mine. “And that boy is nothing and he’ll never be anything!”

That angers me like nothing else in this world. I’ve had those words said to me before, and they cut me deep when I heard them from Luci. And now every time something remotely good happens to me, her words echo back at me, and I slip back into the funk, unable to be proud of my accomplishments.

I finished high school when she didn’t, but I never celebrated that.

I managed to stay the fuck away from drugs when she just couldn’t resist the allure, but I still don’t celebrate that.

I fell in love with a guy who wanted to grant my every wish in this life, show me the world and love me, but I not only lost him, I failed him and broke his trust, and now he’ll never love me.

So, it doesn’t shock me when I reach for my knife and have it at David’s throat in the blink of any eye.

“I’ll tell you what, David,” I seethe. “Don’t you ever try to categorize Noah or dictate what he can or can’t do. He’s found a way to cope without you, and good riddance to you leaving, because that was the best thing you could’ve ever done for him and so now, I’ll be damned if you so much as disturb that delicate balance with your egocentric and moronic bullshit.”

He stares at me for a very long time, and I’m just waiting for whatever else he has to say so I can slit his throat as my own trauma roars at me, egging me on to do it.

This man has caused enough pain to Noah, Christina and even Craig, he caused enough pain and suffering, beating up his kids and his wife like they’re punching bags! I’d gladly end his fucking life for that alone and it doesn’t matter whether Noah wants me in his life or not. The pain I suffered from his hands notwithstanding.

“I take it you know him very well?” he questions, his eyes wide. I’m sure he knows this knife is not just a threat. I bet he can see the intent for murder in my eyes. “You know, I reme—”

But before he can finish, he’s yanked away from me and then thrown into the long glass table with so much force the glass shatters into billions of pieces.

When I look up, Noah is breathing hard, fast, his jaw clenched and eyes wild with a kind of rage I’ve never seen before. But that’s not what stops my heart. It’s the look in his eyes, the murderous look.

“Did he hurt you?” he growls, as he runs his hands all over me. From my face to my neck, my chest, my sides, my arms, everywhere he pats, checking until he unerringly finds a slightly sore spot when I flinch.

As if in slow motion, he looks down at the hand David grabbed. A bruise is starting to form there but before I can assure Noah that I’m okay and it doesn’t hurt, he charges after his father.

“Noah!” I scream as he pounces on his father and starts throwing punch after punch.

I start running toward him only to be pulled back by… “George!”

He doesn’t smile, instead, he gently but firmly pulls me back until we’re at the door. That’s when I see Emmett standing there, watching as Noah punches his father.

“No, Emmett, George! Stop him!” I cry out.

“He needs to do this, Kim,” George murmurs in my ear.

“No!” He shouldn’t. I know something they don’t. Noah vowed that if he ever faced his father in a fight, he’d kill him. “He’ll kill him! Emmett, Noah will kill him!”

I can already see the blood. I can hear the groans but soon I see and hear nothing as I’m dragged out of there and I have no idea what happened to my knife.