Page 30 of Tears and Other Fears

Interesting.

“Why are rich fuckers so determined toruinpeople the hard way? That just takes way too much scheming and effort. Look, I don’t want to go too much into detail, because my employers have a strictdon’t ask, don’t tellpolicy when it comes to murder, but he’s pissed off a lot of bloodthirsty assholes. Samuel has become too much of a liability. Handing out tainted drugs. Crying to his daddy. Skirting his debts. The fucker thinks he’s the only person that can sell to our high-class clientele, but he’s a dumbass.”

“Y-you’re gonna kill him?” Young swallowed before inching away from Renon.

“Is that a problem?” Renon replied.

“I need a drink,” Noah mumbled.

I let out a shaky breath. “I want to watch.” Everyone paused at my unsettling words and turned to stare at me. I could feel their judgmental stares, and it didn’t sit well that even now, they were surprised by my wishes. It wasn’t like I’d hidden my agenda from them.

“Okay. Let me talk to my people, and I’ll see what we can arrange,” Renon lied. I knew damn well that he had zero intentions of actually letting me watch. Witnesses were a liability drug lords weren’t allotted. Everything served a purpose, and they wouldn’t let me participate unless I was in their fold or they had something they could hold over me.

“Jesus Christ, you’re really going to have him killed? Can you even do that? Are we accomplices to murder?” Young asked, and I snorted.

“Young, you’ve been living with a murderer for the last year. You’ve seen the proof of how easy it is to get away with killing someone. We’re talking about professional criminals. If they want Samuel dead, he’s dead,” I answered stoically as Noah slid a plate in front of me. I stabbed the rubbery egg with my fork and placed it on my tongue. It was salty and disgusting, but my body was thankful for the food.

“I just think murder is a bit extreme…”

“It has nothing to do with you. That asshole knew the risk when he got involved with my boss. He’s been walking on thin ice since William died. Tough shit. I just suggest you don’t let him back in this house. If and when my people end him, you won’t want to be anywhere near.”

“How involved are you in this organization exactly?” Noah asked while propping his elbows on the counter top and looking at Renon. “Is it really safe for Octavia to be associating with you?”

“I’m not your kid, Noah. You don’t get to vet the men I fuck,” I sneered.

“I know damn well you’re not my kid, Octavia. I’m just asking because I care.”

I swallowed another bite of egg before responding. “Yeah. Caring is the reason I don’t suck your cock anymore, so I’d be careful.”

Renon snorted. Young let out a huff. I felt hyper focused on every detail of the room. The spot of dust on the floor. The burning smell of eggs and Noah’s pride. The air conditioning in the kitchen kicked on, filling the room with a chilly breeze as I gripped my fork.

“I won’t go too far into detail. It’s not really any of your damn business. I’m pretty high up. I recruit distributors and make sure they pay up. I do some runs every now and then. My older brother got initiated when we were in foster care. Then when I turned sixteen, I joined in. It pays the bills.”

“Is this your life goal? Do you plan on doing this forever?” Noah pressed.

“I don’t really think about tomorrow. Right now? I’m happy. Tomorrow, that might change. And why don’t you ask what you’re really curious about,” Renon hissed. “I might not know your history, but it’s pretty fucking obvious that you’re pussy whipped for Octavia. You want to know where I fit. The way I see it, her and I have fun. You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”

I rolled my eyes. Guess I really was building a harem. Young coughed and took a sip of coffee. “Sounds like a plan.”

A plan? Sounds like a motherfucking plan? I blanched. “Which part? The murdering your best friend plan or going with the flow with me?” I wasn’t expecting Young to easily agree with this. Hell, I was expecting him to run back to Samuel and offer him forgiveness with a side of martyrdom.

Young eyed me with brooding confidence. “Both.”

Both.

Both.

Both.

Guess he’d had enough space to think and had made a decision. I felt conflicted, but the burning ball of anxiety in my gut loosened a bit.

I let that truth and the awkward discussion about our sex life simmer for a moment while Noah gave me puppy eyes filled to the brim with pleading intent. He wanted me to invite him in on this whim of an agreement, but I wasn’t quite ready to do that.

I was overstimulated, the reality of everything piling up and making me want to crawl into bed again. Samuel would finally get what he deserved. I wouldn’t believe it until I saw his cold, dead body being lowered into the ground. I fleetingly decided to wear red to his funeral.

But what would happen afterwards? Where would I go? What would I do? Going back to normal life didn’t feel like an option anymore—not that I ever really didnormal.Would I stay here and play house with my brother’s ex-lover while sleeping with a drug dealer and my therapist? Would I run away? Would I finally do what I pledged to do back in the thick of my grief?

Would I finally feel enough peace to leave this world and join my brother?

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