Page 5 of Tears and Other Fears

“It’s painfully obvious. You’re wearing a suit that costs more than all the cars in the parking lot,” I snorted before running my fingers along the dresser, which was coated in dust. Pulling my fingers up, I twisted it so he could see the grey shadow of dirt coating my skin. “If you wanted to be inconspicuous, you would have gotten a nice hotel. Or maybe even a mid-grade apartment.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind for the next time I decide to have an affair with a married woman,” he replied dryly before moving to sit on a side chair that had questionable stains on the seat. Brave, brave man. “What’s your plan, anyway?” he asked.

Young acted like he didn’t want me here, but I knew better. He barely put up a fight, barely tried to sneak out. He wanted someone to rescue him from this fucked up situation. “I was thinking you could get her started. Do your thing. Hell, get at least one good blow job before it’s over. It’s the least she could do.”

He squeezed his eyes shut at my crass attitude before letting out a puff of air. “Then what?”

“Then I’ll storm in and take a few incriminating photos, concealing your identity of course, and send a mass email to everyone at Blackwood University,” I replied with glee while holding up his phone. I’d stolen it from his pocket when we got out of the car. Revenge was like a fucking drug, and I was buzzing with excitement. It was nice to finally feel like I was moving forward—getting retribution for William’s death.

“You’re going towhat?” Young seethed, but it was too late. The doorknob was twisting, and I had disappeared into the small closet, shutting it closed with a grin. Revenge wasn’t refined. Maybe for some, it was filled with passive aggressive bullshit that took years to figure out, a chessboard with no queen, only pawns. But for me it was a battlefield. Nothing mattered unless blood was drawn.

“Nathaniel,” a voice crooned, sounding weak and whiny. It was a calculated tone that only women who knew they could manipulate a man used. “I’ve missed you so much. I was worried you wouldn’t see me anymore. Richard has been…difficult.”

I imagined her turning her head to the side, looking down at the ground like the actress she was. I’d seen this tactic too many times, used by my own mother. “I’m sorry, things have been busy,” Young replied in a curt tone, and my eyes rolled so hard they nearly sliced my brain.

“Where did you disappear to?” she asked in a croak. I was half tempted to pull the door open and watch the performance, maybe even pop some popcorn for the show.

“A friend of mine needed help,” he gritted. I could hear the backbone forming in his voice. Ah, good little Young.

Her next words were breathy and muffled, and jealousy like a dead fish flopped around in my gut. The last nerve endings in its body were firing off with a fight it was going to lose. “I missed you. Take me,” she murmured, probably against his lips, smearing her sticky gloss over his pout like she had a fucking right to.

Young grunted. I couldn’t tell if he was enjoying it or not, and I wanted to know. Maybe Ishouldinclude his face in the photo. I reached for Young’s phone and turned the camera on.

Pressing my ear against the door, I listened for the sounds of slobber and spit, tongues on skin, drool on dicks. Pulling zippers and forced moans. But it was hard to hear. My imagination was a jealous bitch, picturing her wrinkled lips and Botox face sliding up and down his curved dick with sloppy enthusiasm. I bet she had a coy look on her wannabe schoolgirl face.

I shifted on my feet, like a spring ready to recoil. Spit like acid collected in my salivating mouth. I heard the bed springs dip and knew my moment was soon. Would they be naked? Would she be shaved? Messy? Would the photo show her glistening skin? Would Young be relieved to have me interrupt, or would he get off on knowing I was listening?

Would all these fucked up questions stop swimming in my goddamn mind for a fucking second?

“Want a taste? I’ve missed your tongue,” Mrs. Robinson moaned. I grinned maniacally, knowing that this was the perfect opportunity. I’d get a photo of Young’s face buried between her thighs with her face tilted back in ecstasy.

I counted to thirty. I wished I could have been pacing the floors. I wanted to be the one Young was tasting in this shitty motel on the disgusting bed with his silver tongue. I then counted until her moans were right there, right where I knew I could catch her on the edge of a cliff. I wanted to leave her wanting.

“You coming or not?” Young asked, and I knew that the question was directed at me. I smiled, deciding to make him suffer a bit longer. I wanted him to have the taste of his mistakes on his lips for as long as my brother was six feet under.

“So close,” she whimpered like a fucking dying cat. Poor little pussy.

I opened the door in an instant and held his phone up to snap my picture, grinning like a madwoman as her eyes sprang open in shock. Young had his head buried where I’d expected it to be, and to add to the delinquency, his pert asshole was right there on display, a shadowed starfish looking depressing and wrong. Fucking perfection. Her breasts were plastic with large nipples the size and color of pepperoni. Her blond hair stuck to the sheen of sweat on her forehead. Outrage flashed like headlights across her face as she shoved Young away.

“You!” she screamed as I furiously sent the photo to myself. I didn’t put it past her to rip the phone from my fingers and crush it under her heel.

“Hey there, hot stuff. Sorry to interrupt, but this was just too good not to share,” I replied with a grin as she got off the bed and looked around the room. A discarded blanket was on the floor, and she quickly wrapped it around herself before giving Young an accusatory look.

“Oh no, he had nothing to do with this,” I promised. “I mean, he drove me here, told me about how fucked up you are, and lured you into a false sense of security with his dick, but this was all me. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

I tilted my palm side to side while gripping the phone. Flashing my eyes to Young, I watched in amusement as he put his clothes on, her slick gloss covering his lips. “Within the hour, I’ll have this sent to everyone at Blackwood University, by the way. I don’t think you deserve a heads up, but I figured you could use the extra time to come up with your excuses to your husband.”

“You bitch!” she wailed but wrapped her arms around herself and coiled over, holding her body with a pout perched upon her lips. She had perfected the art of the puppy dog look and was tossing the only weapon in her arsenal at Young. He flinched like she’d actually punched him. He wasn’t strong enough to stomach the disappointment and pain. That was fine, I was empty enough to suck up the deceit and turn it to venom. “How could you do this, Nathaniel?” she asked.

I surged forward. “Don’t look at him,” I spat before grabbing her upper arm and squeezing. “Don’t talk to him. You wanted some fun and blackmailed him into a relationship. Whatever. I’m not one to kink shame you, and by the looks of your husband, I bethehasn’t even seen his dick since the eighties.”

Mrs. Robinson’s mouth dropped open in shock, and I grinned at her. “Who the hell are you?” she asked in a shrill voice.

“I’m the person that’s putting an end to this. Young doesn’t like disappointing people, and you don’t like your dried up cunt not getting the attention you think it deserves. You blackmailed him into fucking you, then manipulated him with your bullshit sob story to keep him there. You saw he was in love with someone else, and you didn’t care. Now it’s my turn not to care. About your marriage. Your reputation. Your orgasms.”

“Nathaniel,” she pleaded, ignoring me despite the grip I had on her arm and the fire in my words. “Tell me this isn’t true. I would have ended this amicably. The school year is over.”

“It’s never really over,” Young said, his teeth gritted as he looked apologetically back at her. Weak.

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