Login via

The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon) novel Chapter 73

The Art Of Revenge

Thalia’s Pov

Nestor hauled me out of Gentex like a two-year-old child. The workers stared at us like a freak show but he did not care. I kept begging him to stop, but he was so enraged that he was virtually on fire. He shoved me into the car, oblivious to the fact that I was pregnant. “Ouch!,” I cried out. “Are you insane?” I yelled.

He grabbed my things from the guards, gave them some orders, and got into the car, driving away rather silently. When we arrived at Mandel, he came to a stop enraged and spun around to confront me.

“What the f**k is your problem! How could you possibly jeopardize yourself, the baby, and the plan?” He screamed loudly.

I folded my arms and turned away; I had no regrets about what I had done; I was just disappointed that I did not have the opportunity to finish it; I had expected Victor to beg me to stop, but I was brutally interrupted.

He yelled again, “Thalia, I’m talking to you!”

“Last time I checked, you worked for Brandon; now that I’m taking over, you work for me so you’re out of order shouting at me,” I said as I turned to face him. He grinned and lowered his head as if I had said something contradictory.

“Is this going to be the case? Well, let me give you some advice: if you keep doing what you’re doing, you’re going to die before Brandon, so keep up with your st*pidity,” he added.

With a smirk, I continued, “At least I’ll die knowing I scared those foolish idiots.”

I couldn’t help but wonder how much more rewarding it would have been if Josh had been present. At the very least, I got the sk*nk, but I was hoping she’d be the one to fight me.

The woman had been reduced to a filthy housewife; that was not the Jessica I was used to; she had more balls at the gala than she had in there, and she looked afraid as if she was sure I was going to shoot her. What was strange was that instead of grabbing my gun, she was busy clutching her coat.

‘Thalia?’ he exclaimed, startling me out of my reverie.

“Whether you’re my boss or not, I’ll be infusing some common sense into your skull, so feel free to fire me,” he declared.

I only averted my gaze because something about the sk**nk’s coat held my attention. It was as if she was concealing something; the coat appeared to be far more essential than rescuing the day or her life. I was too busy to notice it but now that I was outside I realized that it was weird.

“Thalia!” Nestor screamed and began driving away. “Hey, can you tell me where you’re going? Stop the dumb car, ain’t we at Mandel” I inquired, puzzled.

“Brandon needs to talk sense into you at the beach house,” he responded.

“Stop the dumb car!”I yelled at him, but he ignored me and continued driving erratically. “You can’t tell Brandon… you’ll get in trouble because you’re the one who got me the gun,” I reminded him of it.

“Then the two of us best get ourselves into trouble and prepare to explain,” he said.

“Are you a mor*n? He’s sick, and he will not be able to deal with the news,” I explained.

“I’ve already texted him, and he’s probably hunting for a judge to bribe should Victor decide to sue you!” he cried as he turned to face me.

I hesitated for a second, wondering how or when he had time to speak with Brandon. He was annoying, and he betrayed me. Why was he so loyal to Brandon? I could only imagine how furious Brandon was. I took out my phone and checked for messages from him but found none.

I  began making up stories in my head to get myself out of the mess I’d gotten myself into. I screamed in disgust because he was so ineffective.

We arrived at the airport, and I trailed angrily behind. I was meant to be in my office, finishing up some paperwork. But there I was on my way back home. We boarded the plane and were on our way to the beach house in a matter of minutes.

The entire flight was silent and somehow awkward. We arrived at the beach and I was the first to step out. He gave me a warning look but I ignored him and walked into the house.

I stepped into the bedroom and found him on the phone, so I walked behind Nestor with my arms folded. He sounded like he was speaking to a Judge, based on the tone of his voice and the terms he was using. He recognized me right away and gave me a disappointed look, which I just averted. He turned to face me after hanging up the phone and thanking Nestor for informing him.

“Please have a seat,” he said.

I took a seat on the couch rather than the bed where he was sleeping. “Please make sure you have delivered the baby the next time you plan to attack Victor. Is that clear?” He ordered. I remained silent and went on playing with my fingers, avoiding eye contact.

When he was upset at me, he was terrifying, but in a good way. I really always liked his tone of voice… It was somehow s**y.

“Thalia!” he screamed as he banged his hand on the bed. My mind was apparently elsewhere. As blood splattered across the blankets, he began coughing uncontrollably. “Oh my Go d Brandon?” I said as I dashed to him. “Are you okay? Do you require a glass of water?”

“No!” he screamed angrily. “I’m going to need your senses!” He inquired, “What were you thinking?”

“Thalia, what’s going on, can you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“It is the hormones, the baby is killing me? I said aloud.

Brandon responded, “You were talking about a st*pid coat.” He wasn’t buying my act, but I couldn’t keep my excitement in check. Brandon’s life was going to be saved because of Jessica’s obnoxious coat. I attempted to kiss him once more, but he pushed me away. He roared at me, “Thalia, this is serious!”

I lied and said, “I know and I’m sorry; I promise I won’t do it again. And Brandon, please, I’m starving,” I shouted out.

“Nestor, go into the kitchen and get a meal for her,” he said. Nester was enraged when he glanced at him. I guess he thought Brandon was going to beat me up or something, but I noticed he was simply concerned about my safety. As I played with Brandon’s ears, he stood there staring at me.

“Is that all there is to it?” he enquired

“What exactly do you mean?” Brandon enquired.

“So you’re just going to let her off the h**k after she jeopardized the plan and the baby?”

Brandon answered, “I’m grounding her; she won’t be working the entire week,” he replied to which I just laughed because I needed the week off to concentrate on my gadget and prepare the coats. At the very least, my early craziness resulted in my breakthrough.  The answer was always in front of me, but I had been overthinking everything and wasting valuable months.

“And I’m taking the gun away from her; if you decide to buy her gun in the future, please let me know. ‘It’s all your fault,” he said and ordered him to go fetch my lunch. As he walked out the kitchen door, I could see his face flush crimson with rage.

“Did you get your answers?” Surprisingly, he inquired. “Next time you plot such folly, please let me or Nestor know?” he urged as I coughed and nodded.

“I’d like to shove the gun into Josh’s mouth, I did not get the opportunity,” I responded. He tried to reason with me, but I interrupted him. “Yes, Brandon, I screwed up and put my life on the line, but I’d do it all over again,” I stated and he only looked away.

Nestor brought the food and I quickly ate it and took a shower. I got out a paper and wrote all the things I needed and handed the pepper to Nestor. At first, he was surprised and did not understand but at night I explained everything to him. I was very sure I was heading in the right direction though I was not sure whether to inform Brandon or not.

But in the morning, while he was sleeping I rushed to the garage where Nestor was waiting for me and I began working on my coats. If successful I needed a bigger test subject and Nestor knew where to find it. He was so excited that he forgot about the other day’s madness. He was the one person that believed in me when all professors shamed my project.

But it was too early to celebrate, everything was just in theory. I needed to put everything up and test if it was going to work. All I could pray for was that Brandon held on because every day that he woke up he looked worse and was not getting any better. I was back with racing against time but he had lived six more months and he was going to hold on for me.

Reading History

No history.

Comments

The readers' comments on the novel: The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)