Page 17 of Tears and Other Fears

“William knew the risks,” Samuel said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“It means exactly what I said. Your brother knew what he was taking. He knew that it was bad. He was in a low place, Octavia.”

Paranoia like a vice wrapped around my neck and squeezed. It was nearly impossible to choke my words out. “You’re lying.”

Samuel ran a hand through his hair before tugging on his navy blue suit coat. “You said it yourself. He never took drugs. He swallowed that pill, knowing what it would do to him.”

I knew my brother was depressed, but it still always ended at the same result. I couldn’t imagine getting this far just to end up right back where I started. William overdosed because he wanted to. William died because he wanted to. This was too much.

The corner of Samuel’s mouth ticked up like he was proud of himself for eliciting pain from me. I felt despair dancing in my gut that wouldn’t let up. I couldn’t imagine a world where William willingly left me, but I knew if I easily believed Samuel’s story, then he would win. This was what he wanted—to create doubt in my mind.

“You still gave it to him,” I whispered.

“I did.” At least Samuel wasn’t lying anymore.

An odd sense of déjà vu came over me. Here we were, hashing out the same shit, with Samuel holding all the cards and Renon coming to save the day. The why was always the same—William. But I wasn’t the same woman as before. I was so caught up in seeking answers I forgot the result. My brother was still gone, and someone had to pay. And that someone was Samuel.

I smiled. “I got so worked up I almost forgot why we were here!” I cooed. “Call your father up here, Samuel.” Renon looked curiously at me but didn’t interrupt. Smart guy.

“What? Why?” Samuel asked. He seemed confused by my change in direction, which was exactly what I wanted. He thought he could twist this conversation to his advantage and use my grief as a way to escape Renon’s demands, but I wasn’t going to let him get away that easily. I’d bring him down one peg at a time until he was nothing but a pile of dust.

“Call your dad. He’s going to write Renon a check for the money you owe. Bring him here, or I’ll go down there. Either way, you’re paying up tonight, Samuel. You’re going to be paying for a long, long time.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“She’s not,” Renon interjected while crossing his arms over his chest.

I took a step closer to Samuel, feeling giddy over the prospect of catching him off guard. When we were toe to toe, he flinched.

I kissed him.

I touched my lips to his and sipped from hell itself.

I fucking kissed my brother’s murderer.

He tasted like tar and disappointment. I could feel the lies flowing freely from his tongue as I sunk my teeth into his bottom lip. He groaned. I’d tilted his world off its axis. Samuel said he missed me, so I’d give him a taste. Turns out it was easier to invade his pout than it was to forgive Noah.

My hands roamed his back until I was grabbing his ass. He cupped my neck with his hands, applying harsh pressure that made my head pound. It wasn’t even remotely sexual, just threatening. I enjoyed rough sex as much as the next gal, but this was a baleful move meant to intimidate me. Slipping my hand into his pocket, I retrieved his phone before pulling away. Samuel was stilted with confusion, a frown etched upon his blood-red lips, stained by my lipstick.

Giving Samuel my back, I tossed it to Renon with a grin. “Call him,” I ordered.

If I couldn’t get retribution for William, at least Renon the Drug Dealer could get his money.

Chapter 10

If Mr. Smithwas an indicator of how Samuel would age, I found solace in the fact that he was ugly as fuck. His ears were the size of hands and stuck out on his head like open doors on a smart car. His beady eyes were awkward on his face, and there was spit forming in the corner of his mouth, spraying anyone within a ten-foot radius when he spoke.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked while looking around the room as he shook his phone. Renon’s message was short and to the point.

“Come upstairs to my room. We need to talk.”

Mr. Smith’s eyes landed on me with a calculated sort of hunger, like he was already trying to figure out how he could drug, rape, and bribe me to keep quiet. I didn’t like how transparently malicious he was. It was like his seedy soul was pouring out of his gaze.

Samuel looked terrified. He was cowering in the corner of his room, eyeing me with so much venom in his gaze that I could practically feel snake bites on my neck. I was unaffected, though. I’d put him in an impossible position, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the power I felt at that knowledge. I enjoyed the fear in his expression and the way he was itching to reach for the lamp beside his bed and bash my skull in. I should feel more fear about standing five feet away from a murderer, but I knew he wouldn’t outright kill me—at least I didn’t think he would.

If I squeezed my eyes shut, I could still taste oblivion, could again feel the barrel of the dud gun at my chest. He’d pulled the trigger, and I half wondered if he’d bought a real gun since then.

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