Page 16 of Tears and Other Fears

“I’ve already searched his room. The amount of sex toys that man has is ridiculous, by the way. I stole some anal beads to experiment with later if you’re game,” I replied with a wink before continuing. “No, if Samuel is hiding anything, he’s going to keep it away from you.”

Young frowned and licked the lipstick off my lips, smearing it along my chin as he moaned. “I agree that he’s a suspect. But can you blame me for not wanting to believe that my best friend, the man I sacrificed a hell of a lot for, killed the love of my life?”

I involuntarily winced at his words but welcomed the reminder that I would never be William. “We’re different, I suppose. You see the best in people, and I choose to believe the worst. Guess that’s what made William perfect for you.”

Young pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and started wiping at the lipstick now covering my face with his soft hands. I guess he didn’t like that shade of red on me. When he was done, I tossed him a wink and pulled the lipstick tube from my clutch and reapplied my warpaint before tossing it on the ground. I hoped Samuel found it later in his front lawn and wished the color was wrapped in a ring around his cock.

Rolling my shoulders back, I reached for Renon and took his arm. “Shall we?” I asked. If he was getting whiplash from my behavior, he wasn’t showing it.

“Let’s get this over with,” Young replied with an eye roll.

Rich. Samuel Smith was rich, as to be expected. The floors were only the best marble. The layout was a designer’s wet dream. The oversized portrait of his family was hung above the mantle, looming over us like a bad one night stand. It was tacky. I didn’t even have the energy or patience to draw conclusions about the ridiculous amount of wealth and power in this room. I didn’t want to be predictable, so instead of complaining about the self-importance of each guest, I leaned up to kiss Young on the cheek.

“That’s my ethics professor,” he said with a frown while nodding to a group of people standing by a table of drinks. “I have to go say hello. Don’t do anything without me, okay?” he said while reluctantly walking away. I smiled. He should have known better than to leave me with Renon to go and schmooze everyone.

I watched his back as he greeted a woman in a black dress. He kissed her cheek before shyly looking over his shoulder at me. “I feel uncomfortable as fuck here, Octavia the Vengeful,” Renon said, tugging at his tie. “He looks like he fits right in.” Renon nodded at Young, and I smiled.

“He does look that way, doesn’t he?” I mused. I knew Young didn’t fit in. He hated the roles thrust on his shoulders. He didn’t want to be the charming one or the center of attention. He wanted to love William, blissfully unaware of the effect he had on people.

I grabbed an hors d’oeuvre off a tray and plopped it in my mouth. It tasted like rusted pennies, so I spat it out in my hand and tossed it in a nearby vase. Renon just watched me in amusement.

“I never really pictured William and him together. I’m shockedyou’rewith him, too,” Renon said before pulling a flask from his coat pocket and drinking from it. I watched his tempting throat bob before he slipped it back into his inner coat.

“Are you an expert on Nathaniel Youngblood, Renon?” I asked.

“I’m an expert on men that don’t have to work for what they get.”

“So is that why you pretend to be some mysterious, badass drug dealer when really you’re just a college kid chasing the same piece of paper, they are? You’re kind of a hypocrite, Renon.” I gave him a disarming smile, the kind of teeth-showing trick I’d learned at a young age. Renon was in the business of addiction, but I was in the business of calling people out.

“And you’re kind of a mindfuck, Octavia. You think you got the world figured out, but I run the men running the world. I might be a college kid, but I’ve got hustle. What do you got?” he asked while placing a hand on my lower back and leaning in closer. I could feel Young’s eyes on us, but I didn’t care.

“I’ve got a voice. I’ve got a pussy. But do you know what everyone’s problem is, Renon?” I replied while lowering my voice into a whisper. He leaned in even closer, and I knew that if I licked the bottom of my lip, it would brush against his chin. “While the men running the men that run the world focus on what they have, I focus on what I lack. I don’t have fear, Renon. Fear is the most powerful motivator in the world. I think you fear being irrelevant; it’s why you pretend to be cocky. Are you scared to be yourself because you might not like who you are?”

Renon’s eyes widened as I tilted my head to the side. “I don’t have fear,” he gritted.

“You know what else I don’t have?” I asked before wrapping my hand around his neck. “I don’t have pride. I’m not afraid to stroke your cock in a crowded room or swing from the chandelier with no panties on. I don’t care what anyone thinks, nor do I think about anyone else. Stop worrying about what Young is doing and figure your shit out.” I knew Renon was hard as a rock at my words. I could even feel the evidence of it pressing against me. Our bodies were flush with one another, and the heat traveling between us was palpable. He leaned in for a kiss, but I pulled away. Mom taught me the art of keeping a man guessing. It was coming in handy lately. “Are we going to case Samuel’s room or what?”

He swallowed and looked around the room with fire in his eyes and resentment pounding in his chest. I wasn’t sure if he was going to walk away from me or fuck me on Samuel Smith’s floor while everyone watched. “I can’t tell if this is your way of standing up for him or if you’re really just this intense.”

“I’m an intense girl,” I conceded before pulling away.

Renon straightened the waistband of his pants before looking around. Not a single person noticed our sexual standoff. We stood out like sore thumbs at the Smiths’ fancy party, but everyone was too self-absorbed to give a fuck about the redhead with bloodlust and a drug dealer whose tie was on too tight.

“Let’s go,” he said before grabbing my hand and leading me towards the stairs. I kept my eyes peeled for Samuel as we ascended. Renon felt like a ball of confusion at my side, probably gnawing on the truths I spilled in his lap. I knew Young was probably anxious about us being out of sight, but once again, I didn’t care. I was here on a mission, and if he didn’t want me snooping, he wouldn’t have asked me to be his date in the first place.

The house was predictably poised with perfection. The guest rooms were polished. The bathroom had hand towels and smelled of Yankee Candles and money. And vomit. Some poor girl with image issues had definitely just tossed her cookies to the super bowl to fit in her dress. It wasn’t until we got to a room secluded in the back that I actually felt like we were going somewhere.

Opening the door, Renon went inside and stiffened. I could barely see over his shoulders, but I could feel the shift in energy. It was like that sensation of getting sick, you knew it was coming and could feel the ache in your bones. “Renon, why are you here? I thought we had an arrangement,” Samuel said.

I shoved the cocky drug dealer aside to waltz inside the room. Samuel was standing at the window, looking broody as fuck. “Arrangement is a loose term,” Renon answered before positioning himself at my side. I liked that he didn’t stand in front of me like a chivalrous bastard or behind me like a coward. I think there was some old country song that went along those lines. Though my brain couldn’t focus long enough to remember the lyrics, because Samuel Smith was standing there looking smug as hell. “You showed up and begged for more time. My people think your grace period is up.”

“You gave me bad product!” Samuel hissed. “I shouldn’t have to pay for faulty drugs.”

“We aren’t collecting on the bad batch, and you know it. We want our cut, and we want it now.”

At the mention of the faulty batch, my stomach lurched. I had to close my eyes to fight back the pain. Round and round the blame went like a tornado in Samuel’s mansion. “That is such bullshit. You gave me defective drugs, and now a guy is dead.” Samuel turned to look at me, pity on his face. It felt purely orchestrated, an expression meant to ignite some sort of sympathy from me, but it wasn’t working. Samuel was playing a symphony of innocence, but I knew the score. “I don’t owe you a dime. I paid my debt when I took care of covering up William’s death to save your operation.”

That was the wrong thing to say, Sammy boy. I laughed just to throw him off. “Don’t pretend for one second you covered up his death for anyone but yourself,” I argued. I took a step closer to Samuel, and Renon stayed right at my side, matching me step for step with an imminent threat clutched in his fists. “Let’s not forget that you knew those drugs were shit. You intentionally gave them to my brother.”

---