The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon) novel Chapter 49

The Art Of Revenge by MK20 Gab Chapter 49 Brandon’s Pov

My fingers twitched as I slept on the bed. The days flew past like wildfire on a windy summer day. A month had passed.

Was I dead? or did I make a calculation error? Or maybe I was in the afterlife. I gently opened my eyes to see a familiar ceiling; I was in my house, or was that my new hell?

I closed and opened my eyes again, attempting to figure out if I was still in my room. Maggie’s vacuum cleaner could be heard.

I stood up immediately, and she waved at me with a smile. I waved back, and she dashed through the kitchen door, returning with a cup of coffee and handing it to me.

“Am I in hell?” I joked.

“Do I appear to you as a demon?” she joked as she began gathering her belongings. I noticed Thalia wasn’t in bed when I looked to my left. “Where is Thalia? Is she in the bathroom?” I inquired.

Maggie immediately put on a phony smile after I noticed her face stiffen up. “She’s gone for a walk on the beach,” she explained.

I nodded, Thalia was never an early riser, she was always last with her snoring and her legs all over the place, practically suffocating me to death. Something wasn’t right. I stood up hurriedly and placed the mug on the table.

While I was putting on my robe and preparing to join her outside. Magie said her goodbyes and walked out of the house. I would have walked out with her but I needed to put on my robe.

As soon as I tried to open the door, I felt my back collapse and I froze while holding on to the door. My back felt like it was being pulled apart with a j*gsaw. The pain was so terrible that I collapsed to the floor.

Maggie was most likely already on her way to the helicopter. I lay there, either waiting for the episode to end or breathing my final breath. I started to feel panicked; there was no way I was going to die without saying goodbye to my stup*d Thalia.

I attempted to do so the previous night, but she was optimistic that I would wake up because I had completed all of the days allotted to me. She even had the audacity to refuse waiting for me in the morning.

Other women would have stayed up all night waiting for me to draw my final breath, but she had opted to go for a silly beach walk.

Was she unconcerned about my feelings? As I clung to my foolish waist, I wondered if I was reading too much into her generosity, which was conditional since I was assisting her.

When I requested her to remove my clothes the other day, the stup*d girl mast**bated over my images in the bathroom.

The only reason we hadn’t had sex was because I was dying, and it would have been unjust and selfish of me to force her to become attached to me or fall head over heels for me. The most important rule in the house was to focus on vengeance and shove feelings down the drainage.

I laid down on my back, facing the ceiling, and gave up the struggle. I’d grown accustomed to the excruciating pain over the years, and there was no point in fighting it. My month was up and the muscle stretching always ended.

I closed my eyes and absorbed the anguish; it eventually stopped, but blood poured out of both my lips and nose. I wiped my hands over it and glanced at it; it wasn’t as dark as ordinary blood, and it was more pink than black.

I felt as if a huge burden was lifted off my shoulders, and I sat there waiting for something that never arrived.

Brainless Thalia had vanished without a trace. I got up without any aches and pains and walked outside; it was a week since I had gotten my sick a*s out of the house. As I closed my eyes, the sun’s rays appeared strange.

My skin felt as if it was getting burnt. I put my palm over my brow and looked for Thalia, but she was nowhere to be seen.

I noticed the helicopter, which still had Magie inside. My jaw clenched as I realized Thalia was with dumb Nestor. I was dying inside the house while she was outside with my foolish pilot, enjoying the morning light. I strolled slowly along the shore, hoping to see them.

Magie began heading towards me as soon as she saw me, but she continued gazing to her left. When I looked to her left, I realized she was attempting to keep me from seeing her son clutching my brainless Thalia.

He was tightly clutching her to his chest as if she was going to fly away. His one arm was wrapped around her and the other was patting her hair.

Maggie approached me and tried to distract me, but I pushed her away. I locked my gaze on the two p*ssed, they had no idea I was watching them. The two m*rons were cuddling and snuggling while I was dying inside the house.

A rush of hatred and misery washed over me, and piercing pain in my chest began to emerge. I was torn between wanting to go back inside and confronting them. My mind went back to all the times she had excused herself to accompany Nestor out the door.

I used to think they despised each other, but they were secretly hoping I’d die so they could be together. I was simply a thorn in their way of being together. They didn’t even check to see if I was still alive or wait for my body to be taken to the morgue.

“It’s not what you think, Brandon?” From behind me, Maggie said.

“Maggie, shut up!” I screamed at her and began marching towards the two cretins. They believed they could keep their secret until I died but I was given an extra day so that I could catch them in the act. “You also knew about this, didn’t you?” I paused and glanced at Maggie.

“Brandon, it’s not what you want to think; please calm down!” She begged.

When I coughed, blood and clots splattered all over the place. I didn’t have time to confront her, and she and her son had already betrayed me. I’d always known they weren’t true people, but parasites clinging to me for their gain.

“I don’t want to see either your face or your stup*d son’s face!” I said, clearing my throat. I screamed at her and proceeded on my way to the fools. Maggie’s scream drew their attention to me, and they let go of each other like two robbers caught red-handed.