Chapter Twenty-Eight
T he first one was messy.
We’d never done it before and were much more enthusiastic than we were prepared. Wrath clouded our ability to think rationally and play it smart.
We ambushed him in the parking garage at his office and stabbed him twelve times, leaving behind a plethora of evidence.
It’s fine. I didn’t care much about getting caught. Neither did Trevel.
So long as we had enough time to do the other three.
Number One only wet my whistle. Got my motor running. Trevel was still hurt. He was scared . But I was there for him—as I always have been—making sure he understood that he had no choice. We didn’t.
They all had to go. It was imperative.
Number Two kicked me into second gear. We’d snuck into his birthday party, where I slipped cyanide into his Macallan while Trevel stayed nearby and inconspicuous. It was important that he not be seen this time around.
Two died painfully; choking and convulsing, his organs failing as he threw up blood in front of his friends and family. It was brutal.
Fucking brilliant .
Oh, please. Stow your judgements. He deserved every second of it and then some after leaving my best friend in the state he had.
Trevel still had the stitches to prove it.
The high was exquisite, for us both. Despite Trevel’s prior uncertainty, he was drunk on the revenge, an intoxication stronger than the cocktail of drugs in his veins.
Poor thing… He’s always been so broken. Used and manipulated by so many people who deserved to be slaughtered, painfully and publicly.
He needed this. Needed to know that he was strong— still is. That no one would ever take from him again without being taken from in return.
And it worked. My nightly pep talks. My support .
He likes to think I’m not supportive of him. That I sometimes disappear when he needs me the most. That I don’t care enough to save him from such acts of depraved savagery he’s unfortunately suffered at the hands of many awful humans.
Still, deep down, we both know it doesn’t work that way.
I’m no more capable of stopping terrible things from happening to him than he is, and he knows that.
Often times, he’s just looking for someone to blame, and I don’t mind.
I’ll gladly be a martyr for him if that’s what he needs.
He’s always been infinitely smarter than most people, even at that age—the first two had proven as much.
Fifteen years old, and he had the remaining two cowering and shitting themselves.
Unfortunately, our lack of finesse meant that our time to complete the final two was limited. As much as I wanted him to savor it, we had to work quickly.
Only two days later, we came for Number Three in his office. Trevel pretended to be his private masseuse— he wore a wig and everything. It was fantastic.
Anywho , I caved in his skull with an award from his shelf, which he’d apparently received for his pro bono work with children.
I know. Rather symbolic.
At last, it was time for the grand finale. The best saved for last, I suppose.
We gained access to the penthouse of Number Four through some connections and a few sexual favors given to his pathetic excuse for security. It was necessary to do it in his home, being that he’d been holed up in hiding for days. The brutal slayings of his cohorts were all over the news.
Four was on edge. Paranoid.
Rightfully so.
We waited until we were sure he was asleep to come out of hiding. Each step closer was a new buzz of thrill. Though I’ll admit, it was bittersweet, knowing this would be the last one.
I rather enjoyed myself over the weeks we were at large; the process of seeking revenge, from start to finish.
More than that, though, I enjoyed working alongside my best friend.
Helping him do what he needed to regain his control—to feel his true power, and reign vengeance over those who thought they could ruin him and get away with it.
Together, we were unstoppable.
The backdrop of the city that never sleeps splayed out before us as we approached the bed, the sleeping form awaiting us in the middle.
Trevel looked at me, our gazes locking in the dark. And I nodded, giving him the go-ahead. This one was all his…
“What are you doing here??” Trevel whispers to me now, eyes flicking to his pal, Byron , who’s redressing quickly only a foot away.
“I thought you’d be happy to see me.” My head cocks. And now I’m watching them both curiously. “Clearly, you’ve found a way to keep yourself entertained in my absence…”
“Shut up,” he huffs. “I’m not—”
“Are you alright?” Byron Kang asks Trevel, likely noting his shiftiness, and the fact that he’s talking to himself .
Trevel peeks at me once more, then sniffs. “Yea. Fine. Sorry, I’m just… surprised. I didn’t expect to see them out here.”
Ah, yes. Dr. Love is mere meters from where we’re standing. Talk about an entrée…
Unsuspecting wanker.
I fold my arms over my chest, watching my best friend and his new pal as they watch one another closely.
There’s an obvious connection between them.
I can feel it myself, which is interesting, being that I rarely feel such things.
Good things … Electric chemistry that crackles like the lightning strikes above.
Byron glances back in the direction of Dr. Love and his butchering boy-toy. “What do you think they’re doing?”
“Who cares?” I huff. “This is it, kids… Bloody kismet .” Trevel peers at me, and I give him a pointed look. “Now’s your opportunity. Get that revenge we love so much.”
He blinks at me before returning to Byron. The way his gaze softens when looking at him is reminiscent of Alice. How he was with her…
Trevel was purely smitten with the girl, and I’m seeing the same sort of behavior now.
He’s always had a thing for people who have overcome their brokenness, who have found a way to be strong and fight , despite being served multiple shit sandwiches in this cosmic circus of fuckery humans call life .
Not quite as broken as him and stronger than he thinks he is.
Regardless of everything we’ve been through together—decades of friendship and being one another’s entire support system—he still doesn’t realize that he carries my strength within him.
He knows that I’m him… He’s not tapped . But for some reason, he refuses to see the full scope of it.
Trevel Fenwick is Leonardo.
The strength it took to overcome his past—his curse , as he often sees it—to exact his revenge on the four worthless maggots who raped and brutalized him… Hell, even killing Andres and his stupid friend for what they did to Alice. That was all him. Us , together.
He possesses all the courage of a leader; he just doesn’t want to see it.
Because as far as Trevel is concerned, being broken requires fixing that he can’t do himself.
Hence, his recent yearning to unburden himself to someone other than a pompous, narcissistic shrink.
He wants to be truly seen by another person.
Someone who will take his baggage and carry it alongside him, in a way I never could.
He wants love. He’s desperate for it, in fact.
But I’m here to remind him that he doesn’t need it. He doesn’t need anyone but me. Together , we are still unstoppable.
His trust should not be placed in other human beings, because humans are fucking tragic.
“They don’t know we’re here,” Trevel says to Byron, easing up to the side of the house for some cover. Byron appears skeptical, but he follows. “Now’s our chance.”
I can’t help but grin. Good. He’s seeing things clearly.
“Chance for… what?” Byron asks hesitantly.
I don’t know what to think of this Byron Kan g person. Clearly, he means something to Trevel. I’d like to think it’s just a physical attraction, but I know it’s more than that. He does remind me of Alice in a way… Maybe a grumpier version, but still. That’s exactly Trevel’s type.
I want to give my best friend the benefit of the doubt. But it’s my job to make sure he doesn’t get carried away. To keep him from blindly following his heart, like a real Michelangelo.
It might sound odd, since… well, ya know. But I’d like to keep him grounded in reality as much as possible. His existence isn’t a curse… It’s life that’s fucking cursed. For every human, not only him.
A relationship won’t fix that. Alice, Byron… Even Dr. Lemuel bloody Love. They can’t heal the wounds in his heart that have been there since birth.
It’s in his best interest to stay hidden. Remain in the shadows with me, only popping up now and then to get—
“Revenge,” Trevel tells Byron with confidence. “Show those egotists that actions have consequences… Even for them. They fucked with the wrong psychos.”
Byron swallows visibly. Potentially nervous, but not appalled , which makes me like him a bit more. “What did you have in mind…?”
Trevel glances at me again, and I chuckle, rolling my eyes. “You sure you want to date this bloke? Seems like a proper sprog to me…”
Trevel’s eyes flicker with the frustration of not being able to argue with me the way he normally would if we were alone. It’s quite comical.
“Let’s start by following them,” he says to Byron, cocking his head. “You know how to do that, yea?”
Byron narrows his gaze at my friend. “Yea. I do.”
“Good,” Trevel chirps, kissing him on the cheek. “When they’re least expecting it, we’ll pop out and yell surprise.” He grins, and Byron rubs his eyes.
“Uh… okay.”
“Are you unsure, Raph?” Trevel frowns, rubbing Byron’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? Talk to me… Don’t you want vengeance? On behalf of your mate?”
“Well… yea . But—”
“Then what’s the problem?” Trevel goes on, working his magic.
He’s rather brilliant at… I don’t want to call it manipulation, because that’s not the right word. But he can be quite persuasive when he turns on the charm, and the massage is an added bonus.
“I’ve seen you fight, baby,” he croons, laying it on thick. “You can take Lemuel, I know you can…”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Byron rumbles firmly. Cocky lad. “I just didn’t expect to be doing this…”