Fuck.
I jump out of bed and then storm outside. I stop by the pool and stare at the luminous blue surface. I constantly think it’ll somehow turn red.
The reason I stop and stare at it every time isn’t out of fear, it’s out of my need for chaos.
The only time I go near that pool is when Silver is swimming with Mum in her one-piece suit. Her nipples show through the material and I always come close to have a better view of them. Then, after I get my fill, I tell her about it just to see her eyes widening and her cheeks turning red.
I hop on my bike and head towards Aiden’s house. I’m not one minute in before the sky starts pouring. I’m soaked within seconds but I don’t stop pedalling, not even when the water blurs my vision. It takes me fifteen minutes on full speed. I’m breathing harshly and there’s no one in the streets. It’s almost a scene from a crime thriller novel.
And maybe I should end it with a crime.
As soon as I arrive, I throw the bike down and hit the bell. Their butler lets me in and offers me a towel, pointing out that it’s past midnight. I couldn’t give a damn about that, so fuck him and his towel.
I storm up the stairs to Aiden’s room. It’s dark when I barge inside. It’s only when lightning strikes in the distance that I see his silhouette. He’s sitting on the bed, staring at something in front of him. I hit the light switch and he squints as I interrupt his session with his chessboard. He’s been playing against himself again. In the dark.
“Hey, Nash. You couldn’t sleep either?”
My breathing is choked, chest rising and falling so hard I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to. Droplets of rain fall from me, soaking the carpet.
He tilts his head. “You look like a rat out of the sewer.”
“Silver wouldn’t fuck you in the back of her father’s car.” I pant. “She’s conservative and we both know it.”
“And yet, she did. I already washed the blood off my dick. I wouldn’t have if I’d known you have a virginal blood kink.”
I’m panting like a dying dog. “You’re lying.”
Though I can’t tell for sure, considering his unchanged features. Usually, I’m good at reading people’s expressions and knowing if they’re lying or bluffing. I’ve been slowly trying to seem completely unaffected while I lie myself.
It’s not hard. You need guilt to show those signs in your body language. I lost that ability a long time ago.
Problem is, Aiden lost it too, so you never know when he’s lying or telling the truth.
“What’s in it for you, Nash?” He stands up and stalks towards me. “You don’t want me with her?”
“Why wouldn’t I want you with her?”
“I don’t know. Let me take a wild guess. Hmm.” He feigns a thinking position. “Feel threatened, maybe?”
“You wish.”
“Don’t tell me you rode your bike all the way here in the middle of the pouring rain at midnight just to tell me you don’t care.”
“That’s exactly it. I don’t care. I stopped caring about anything a long time ago.” I pause, continuing to catch my breath. “Still, Silver wouldn’t have done what you’re trying to convince yourself and me of. She believes in things.”
“Like stability, law, and order?”
“Yes.”
“That means she would have done it with her fiancé, don’t you think?”
I stop breathing for long seconds until my lungs burn. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“From today onwards, Silver and I are engaged. We accept congratulations starting this Sunday. You can drop the gifts at the post office.”
“You’re what?”
“Engaged? She’s my fiancée? We’ll get married and have kids? That includes fucking on a daily basis, by the way.”
I lift my fist to punch him, but the smirk on his face stops me in my tracks.
He’s playing with me. He knows I never resort to violence and he’s now using this masquerade against me.
“Come on.” He motions at my hand. “Finish what your head is telling you to do.”
“Was this Jonathan and Sebastian’s doing?” I ask.
“And us. Nothing would’ve happened if she and I hadn’t agreed.”
“She agreed.” My hand drops to my side, the fight inside me withering to nothing.
Silver agreed to become Aiden’s fiancée.
What the hell is this thing breaking inside me?
“Of course she did. It’s me. Besides, you pushed her my way, Nash, and do you know what I’ll do now? I’ll play all the games you never wanted to play before.”
“And you’ll lose every fucking time.” I turn around to leave.
“Can’t wait,” he calls after me. “She has a tight cunt that I’m looking forward to tasting again tomorrow.”
I swing back and this time, I smash my fist in his face. He winces, clutching it, but he laughs out loud, the sound echoing in the room.
“What was that for, Nash? Do I smell jealousy in the air?”
“That’s a declaration of war. It might not be tomorrow or next year or even the next decade, but I’ll find a way to crush you.”
“Good luck with that. In the meantime, please enjoy my and Silver’s engagement.”
I storm out of the house before I throw the fucker out of the window. I jump on my bike and ride it in the rain.
For hours, I just roam the empty streets, my chest rising and falling heavily as the downpour drenches me. My T-shirt sticks to my back and my wet hair glues to my temples.
My head crowds with chaos so strong, I can’t begin to solve it. I usually need the beginning of the riddle, and no matter how much the thing is tangled, I’d figure it out. I’ll find a way and solve it.
Not this time.
This time, it’s almost like the chaos isn’t in my head — it’s in my chest. It’s aching and beating in and out of synch. Something tells me it’s not because of the rain or the cold.
She ruined it.
She ruined everything.
She killed the small living part in my chest, and now, I’ll kill her in return.
It might not be today or tomorrow, but Silver Queens will pay for this pain. I’ll make it slow and torturous, just like the thing dying in my chest.
I only return home around five thirty in the morning because it’s close to Mum’s waking time and I don’t want to worry her.
She worried enough for a lifetime when William Nash was alive.
I shrug my wet clothes off and stand under the shower for half an hour before I step out and put on my uniform, then join Mum downstairs.
The sound of humming stops me at the entrance to the kitchen.
Mum.
She’s singing.
It took her seven years, but Mum is singing again, and not only that, but she’s also doing it with a smile on her face as she checks the oven.
When I was a child, Mum used to sing me to sleep or when she made breakfast like this. She has a soft voice made for lullabies and sweet dreams. Over the years, William killed that voice. She stopped singing and even stopped writing. She went into a slump for the last three years of his life.
She picked up writing again soon after his death, even though she battled with depression. It was her outlet, something she found refuge in. However, she never sang again and I thought William had taken her voice with him.