Petty Rage by Thandiwe Mpofu

Chapter 28

KIM

Bad omens usually start the way anything else starts, I guess. With good intentions and an unsuspecting mind.

It’s been a few days since the meeting, since the explosive night between Noah and me.

I can’t say for certain that we are going to be all right, but every night since that night, we’ve been… well, we’ve been unable to stop.

The weekend after Noah tattooed my back, I really thought we’d stay away from each other. That is until he came for me while I slept in one of the guest bedrooms in his huge mansion, still unable to stay at home by myself since the girls were with Marie for the weekend.

“Shh, let me in.”

“We… we can’t.”

“Hush, baby. Just this once.”

I really thought it was going to be just that one time, but fuck, we’re still going.

For me, he’s the only one who’s able to steady my heart and make me stay in the present, but still, the danger of being with Noah glares at me every single day.

Last night, instead of fucking me rough, hard and fast… he was different.

He took his time seducing me, the foreplay intense and slightly cruel as Noah is at times, but so incredibly addicting.

Then there was the way he looked at me as he fucked me…

My throat burns all over again as I think back to a few hours ago, but I don’t have time for that.

I still have a job to do and a company dinner to organize, and as we get closer to D-Day, everything seems to catch on fire.

“Just so we’re clear, that bet… it still stands,” I reminded Noah last night. We might’ve been screwing again but I wanted more.

“By all means, prove me wrong, baby,” he fired back as he pulled me back into his arms.

I love it when he’s playful but hate it when I feel like he’s keeping something from me.

Since telling him about the dead cats, Noah’s been acting a bit… strange. Which sucks because tonight is the charity ball he and I have to attend in Christina’s stead.

I was expecting Noah to come back home hours ago, but he still isn’t here so instead of dressing up in the gown I received—but haven’t actually seen yet—I get back to work in his mother’s office because fuck me, I’m drowning in work.

When Christina first told me of this job and what she does, I thought it was all manageable, that she couldn’t possibly do a lot all by herself.

I mean, she has a legion of people to help her with everything that she wants done, but looking at the detailed list she left me, I feel like I might collapse.

It was just one task, organize the annual dinner for Montreal Inc and the trusted partners, but it’s a huge fucking deal.

I only have less than a week to get everything done! A freaking week that will be over in just the blink of an eye.

Not only that, I still have the charity dinner that I have to attend tonight and I’m a nervous wreck.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Christina set me up for failure. But I do know better.

I know that I want to impress her. I want her to be proud that she even gave me this huge opportunity—even though she cornered me to take it.

So, I throw myself fully into my work.

I research everything there is to know about event organizing for rich and powerful people and the results are astounding.

Who knew there were different types of forks to use for different types of meals at a fancy dinner?

“Make sure you know the diet restrictions as well as any allergic reactions your guests might have. Some are lactose intolerant. Some are vegans. Food will make or break an event.”

“Seriously, Linda!” I yell at the YouTube video I’m watching, a ton of papers scatter on the desk.

I’ve been writing down a list of everything that I need to get done.

The venue.

The tables, chairs, the sitting arrangement.

The décor.

The menu.

The guest list.

The staff, the catering, the fucking tablecloths and the entertainment.

It’s as if I’m organizing a damn wedding with over two hundred guests who all eat different shit!

I’m knee deep in trying to figure it all out when the new phone Christina left buzzes with a new text.

Christina:How is it going?

ME:It’s going all right. I thought you said you’d be here to help me.

Christina: Consider this macro-management as me helping you. Don’t forget, you need to know the names of each guest and their plus one before you go tonight.

ME: You’re joking right?

Christina: Devil Wears Prada, dear. Also, I do need you to do something for me.

ME: Anything.

Christina:Could you go up to Noah’s wing and check if he received a letter. It’s supposed to be in a black envelope.

I pause, re-reading the text she just sent. Why would she want me to go snooping around Noah’s belongings to look for a letter that I assume is private and confidential?

ME:I don’t think I have access to his wing. Besides, he’s not home.

Christina:That letter is important, Kimberly. That’s why I need you to get it at all costs.

At all costs? What on earth does that even mean?

From what I’ve seen so far, Christina and Noah have a pretty good relationship so wouldn’t it be easier for her to just ask Noah for the letter?

I push back from the desk as I stand up. Noah is running late, he might be home any second now, but still, I shake off the weirdness of Christina’s request then quickly make my way down the hall, up a flight of stairs and across a beautiful foyer that is so warm and inviting, I could just curl up with a book and never emerge.

I head straight for the west wing: Noah’s domain, knowing better than to go anywhere near the east wing where Craig took his life.

Like I was expecting, there is a huge black steel door is locked.

I snap a picture and send it to Christina with question marks.

Christina:Don’t you know his password?

We might’ve been screwing like bunnies these past few nights, but I doubt I’ll be getting his password anytime soon. Besides, by the time Noah takes me back to his lair, I’d be already out of my mind with lust.

ME:Uh, no. Your son doesn’t trust me to that extent.

Christina:Then what good are you?

My eyes go as wide as saucers as I read that part.

Christina:Sorry, that message was meant for someone else.

Was it? I feel like it was directed at me but why? Christina is not mean or rude. In fact, everyone loves her.

I stuff the phone in my back pocket, still confused with this entire thing. What game is Christina playing at? And for God’s sake, what is the letter about anyway?

I’m not sure why Christina would ask for this, but I figure maybe she wants me to work for my keep.

To actually do something that matters besides waitressing in strip clubs and cleaning hotel rooms.

Unlike the gorgeous hallway where the huge windows bring so much light and offer a breathtaking view of the estates, Noah’s wing of the house is so different.

But it’s so him.

Choosing to guess his password, I try the first digits I think of… the same ones tattooed on his inner arm… and the door unlocks.

Of course!

Quickly slipping in, I make my way toward Noah’s large bedroom, by-passing his huge game room, the screening room and everything else I have only seen a glimpse of these past few nights.

His bedroom door is open, so I make my way in… seeing the rumpled sheets from earlier this morning. I can’t help the smile on my face or the reminder I’m feeling from the soreness between my legs.

“To remind you who was fucking in you all night long,”he whispered in my ear before he left for God only knows what.

I start with the obvious places, his chest of drawers, but I don’t see any black envelope. I check under the pillows—because boys are weird like that—but there’s nothing. Then I check some drawers in his walk-in closet, but there’s no sign of a suspicious black envelope. Maybe Christina has wrong information? I mean, Noah doesn’t strike me as the sentimental type that keeps suspicious letters.

I’m about to leave when I bump into one of the hoodies hanging over the open closet door and something falls out.

Dropping down to pick it up, my heart stops when I see what it is.

It’s a blood curdling picture of me, my two sisters, Ivy, Astraea and George’s baby, baby Claire, all lying on the floor… bleeding to death.

The faces are ours, but the bodies are obviously other people.

My whole body starts to quiver from a violent shiver.

I pick up the letter, then flip it over.

I see the note, but it doesn’t register until I read it for the fifth time.

Oh God.

This is why the boys beefed up security.

This must be why Noah’s been acting strange. But who would send something like this?

Driven by pure instinct, I quickly get up and race out of the room, out of Noah’s wing and straight back to Christina’s office… where I see one of the maids with a tray.

“Mail for you, Miss.”

“For me?”

“Yes.”

Why would I receive mail here?

Actually, why would I receive mail at all? I tentatively walk over to her like she’s holding a bomb then accept the document sized envelope.

When I see the name across the front, I drop the threatening letter I got from Noah’s room and rip open the seal, then shake out the papers inside.

“TO: Mr. N.E.J. Montreal,

We conducted another thorough medical exam and did extensive testing as per your request on behalf of the patient, one Casey Maya Allory, Age 8.

Our team of doctors have been working non-stop to ensure we give you the correct results that would possibly negate the first diagnosis we gave on Saturday. However, we deeply regret to have to inform you, that diagnosis was correct.

Miss Casey Maya Allory does indeed have Stage 4 brain cancer.

It is too extensive to operate at this point…”

* * *

Did you know that everything terrible, everything sinister and gloomy happens in twos?

For example, if there’s smoke, then there’s a raging fire close by, like really fucking close.

If there’s a blusterous thunder darkening the heavens to a pitch black, there’s going to be an equally terrifying clap of lightning to emphasize the threat of destruction just a few seconds apart.

And if there’s one horrific event happening that freezes the blood in your veins, stops your heart from beating and renders you mute, speechless and full of indescribable fear; then you can bet there’s someone else, in some part of this world who’s going through the same reaction as you at that exact moment.

Double entendre.

Maybe it was my way of trying to believe that this kind of agony wasn’t just happening to me alone, but when I met Noah, the most fucking gorgeous, sexy, risqué, bad boy that flipped my life upside down from the very first glance, I recognized the shadows in his beautiful eyes even as he tried to hide his pain through lewd jokes and a sense of humor that was part of his beautifully broken personality.

What I never counted on was all the hurt and pain that came along with loving and being hated by him in return.

How else could I describe this?

On one hand, I can see he went above and beyond to get Casey tested—all the times he told me he was taking the girls out for ice cream this past week now make sense—but on the other hand, how could he keep this from me?

All those nights Casey would cry out, tossing and turning in discomfort, unable to catch her breath.

The way she’s been losing her appetite more frequently so much so that she’s severely underweight.

I knew there was something wrong—healthy kids don’t throw up every single day—I knew that, but I didn’t search for answers!

I didn’t get her the care she needed and now…

Me! I did this!

My throat start burning as a deep, unfiltered cry escapes my lips as my knees buckle.

“And so the bell of tragedy strikes.”

I turn around so fast, I almost give myself a heart attack only to come to a stop when I see a battered and bruised David, watching me with a sly look on his face.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand, my voice hoarse and alien to my own ears.

Stage 4 brain cancer.

Too extensive to operate.

Eight years old.

Deeply regret…

“Me? This is my house,” he says, then looks at the papers I’m clutching with a death grip. “And I guess you just received the news my son has been keeping from you, huh?”

I hate that those exact same thoughts are whirling in my mind. “He had his reasons.”

“Oh I bet he did, just like he had his reasons for keeping the threat notes that were coming your way, huh?”

I don’t miss the way he says ‘notes’ but even in my despair and utter loss, I know better than to say anything to the taunt. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Noah isn’t here, and neither is Christina.”

“No, you mistake my intentions,” the bastard says with a cunning smirk on his face. “See, after that meeting, where I have to admit, you held your own and challenged me in front of the board, I couldn’t help but feel this tingling sensation at the back of my head.”

“Your spidey-senses don’t mean shit to me, please leave,” I grit out, holding myself together so tight, a cool breeze might send me spiraling down into a sinkhole.

“Sassy, I like that,” David says as he walks over toward me. “You know when you put that knife to my throat I knew then and there that you and I met before.”

No, no, no…

He remembers me!

“And judging by the way your face is looking now, like you’ve seen a ghost, I guess I’m the boogeyman.”

“Stay away from me,” I whisper brokenly.

“Where are you going? Don’t you want us to resume where we left off?” he mocks, watching me with a gaze that makes my skin crawl. “I even brought a special gift from your Daddy.”

Oh God, not today…

“You work for him?” I bite out, disgust flowing through me.

“I’d say we’re more of acquaintances with mutual interests but damn, the way the stars have aligned for me from the moment you walked into that conference room… I can’t express how incredibly honored I am to know that man.”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to gain here?”

“Why you, of course,” he says dramatically.

“What?”

“All throughout the week I was wondering, why in the hell would Christina leave you her proxy and go on vacation like there isn’t a war brewing?” he asks, tapping his chin. “Why would a cunning woman like that, leave you, a child yourself, to run all this? And then it hit me like a kick to the groin.”

My heart is hammering against my chest, my lungs feel like they’re shrinking, unable to function.

“You, my dear, are her ace in the hole.”

“What?” I croak.

“Oh dear, Christina’s been playing a long game, huh, but alas it has to come to an end. Let me enlighten you on a few things.”

I quickly take several steps back, my heart thundering in my chest.

“I don’t want to know.”

“Oh but, my dear, how will you fight to save your sisters if you don’t want to know?” he asks with faux concern.

“What. Did. You. Do. To. My. Sisters?” I grit out, fury igniting in the depths of my darkness, accelerated by the sorrow and pain that’s coursing through my veins.

“Do you mean your younger sisters? I’ve done nothing to them!” David asks with faux concern, then his bruised face transforms into an ugly smirk. “But your other sister on the other hand…”

My other sister?

I frown but as the smirk on David’s face grows more sinister, the evil making bile rise up my throat, it doesn’t take me long to figure it out.

“No,” I whisper. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I? Did you ever ask your dear Fairy—” he spits out the word, “—what happened to your half-sister?”

I shake my head, feeling corned like all those years ago. My ears start ringing, the crack of the whip slices through me.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because she all but volunteered for this,” he says. “And as of right now, she has your sisters.”

Terror blooms through my chest, freezing the flow of blood in my veins.

“Why would she…?” I croak, my mind racing. “Why?”

David cracks a smile, enjoying the way I’m falling apart. “Why don’t you call your beloved Marie and ask if she’s still babysitting?”

I see the phone laying right where I left it. Without taking my eyes off David, I grab my phone and dial Marie’s number.

“Hello dear, did you leave something?” Marie asks softly.

“Marie,” I croak, my throat burning as if acid is being forced down. “Marie…”

“Are you all right, dear?”

“I… are my sisters with you?”

“What? You just picked them up, dear. I thought you were in a rush…”

The phone slips out of my hand as devastation rocks through me.

“What… what did you do?” I growl heading in hid direction as a murderous rage surges up in me.

“Ah, just so we’re clear, if anything happens to me, the same tragic fate will befall one of your dear sisters,” the snake says. “An eye for an eye kind of thing.”

I feel sick to my stomach.

“And also, I personally didn’t do anything to your little adorable sisters,” David says sarcastically, as if he’s innocent. “I just collaborated with someone who’s going to take you all down. Of course, I had to get help from a friend. You know, kids nowadays are so ungrateful. Can you imagine my shock when I heard that Philip King was put in jail by his own son?”

I stare at him, my knees growing weak by the second.

“What do you want?” I grit out.

“Me? Oh, I don’t want much, but I do have to say, whatever I want pales in comparison to what Christina is playing at here,” he tsks, looking around the office. “That woman is as deadly as she is stunning. She’s been playing chess while the rest of the world is barely understanding the rules of checkers.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then why do I see doubt in your eyes? You’re a trained assassin, you’ll always be one of those Phoenix Corp agents… did you think those instincts would just disappear just because you’ve decided to live a more… domestic life?”

Bile rises up my throat as I stare at the man who whipped me raw ten years ago in a dark dungeon as random strangers and my father looked on.

“I’m not an assassin,” I grit out.

“Oh, I thought that would be what you and my son have in common.”

“What?”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” David mock-gasps, his eyes wide like freaking saucers. “He didn’t tell you he’s a trained killer himself? I bet none of the boys would share that with anyone seeing as they’d be violating the Blues laws, but well, who cares now seeing as there’s all sorts of filth here.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Yes, you do,” he counters. “I know that my son has shared things with you.”

Yes, but they are things I’ll never dare share with anyone. Ever. Not even under torturous duress.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Have you ever heard that joke? The one that says you walk into a bar and there’s a liar, a fairy, a whore and an idiot?” David mocks. “I’d say in this scenario, my wretched soon-to-be ex-wife is a liar, you call my son a fairy, but he is a whore and guess who the idiot in all of this is?” He dramatically waits for a response, as if I’d ever call myself that. “You!”

“You know, you’ve been running your damn mouth for a good ten minutes now, but you still have yet to get to a point that’s actually worth all that noise,” I snap. “If anything happens to my sisters…”

“If I were you, I’d hold off on going on a killing spree seeing as right this second, I have men watching. If I’m removed from this mansion in a body bag, your dear half-sister Brittney will kill one of your sisters, then the other will be sold and you’ll never ever see her again.”

“No…” I croak.

He smirks.

“Oh yes, now to answer your silly question, have you not been paying attention to anything I just said?” he demands, his face so much like Noah’s, dark with fury. “Christina is using you!”

“And why would she do that?”

“Because she knows who you are and whose fucking daughter you are.”

I can’t help but let loose a crazed and inhumane chuckle at that.

“Newsflash, asshole, everyone and their mother knows whose fucking daughter I am.”

“Did you think I meant Larry?” David asks, grabbing his chest. “I beg your pardon, love, but I meant your whore of a mother, Luci.”

The blood in my veins chills. Everything in me screeches to a halt as I look up at this asshole.

From the corner of my eye, I think I see movement but when I look fully, there’s no one.

“What about Luci?”

“Do you know where she comes from?”

“No, and I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business.”

“It shouldn’t be, but you see, Lucile Matilda Allory McLaren comes from a long line of blue bloods… and you know what’s so interesting about the McLarens?” Like the idiot he just called me, I blink at him, my eyes wide. “They are notorious for selling the firstborn of every generation, isn’t that crazy!”

My heart starts racing wildly. I can feel the mist of sweat covering my brow as I stare at him.

“What does this have to do with me?” I whisper but David just shakes his head as I see Noah walk in behind him, followed by Emmett, George and King—all with murderous looks on their faces.

I don’t know how I completely miss the gun in Noah’s hand or the murderous look in his eyes as he stalks into the room silently, eyes on his father.

“You are the firstborn of your generation, which means you were already sold.”

“No…”

“And guess to whom?”

I shake my head, stepping away, my head beginning to pound.

“You, my dearest, you were sold to me! Say hello to your husband!”

And then the gun goes off.