The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)

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Thalia’s Pov

As I walked out of the room, his sorrowful face kept flashing in my mind. His eyes were the sad dest I

have ever seen, obviously sadder than mine. But my attention was drawn to what was waiting for me

on the other side of the door.

I opened the door and was delighted to find myself in a familiar room, one that we had entered when

we first arrived at the house.

I ran to the main door, opened it, and stepped outside, where it was already nightfall and a blast of

chilly air greeted me.

He wasn’t lying, but I secretly wished he was. I was so used to betrayal that I wanted him to be a liar as

well. I wanted him to be friends with Josh. I was expecting cameras to pop up and yell that I had been

pranked, but nothing happened after waiting close to a minute.

As the chilly breeze continued to strike me, I dashed to the garage, pressed the key, and the car lit up. I

walked in fast and without looking back.

The first thing I did when I got inside was check the glove compartment, and behold, there was cash. I

closed it and started the car, a voice in the back of my head said the gate would not open. but when I

got within inches of it, it opened.

I was about to burst out laughing when I stomped on the gas and drove away.

I stepped on the gas hard and drove away like a l*natic, laughing and checking behind me for any signs

that I was being followed.

The fact that I was driving on the beach didn’t bother me, all I wanted to do was flee. But then a sense

of bewilderment washed over me like a bee sting. I slammed on the brakes hard, nearly losing control

of the car.

After a brief pause, I broke out laughing, I laughed so that tears began running down my cheeks. I

turned around to face the back.

I was free to depart because, he wasn’t coming after me. Because of Josh’s treachery, I was seeing the

worst in everyone and began to distrust everything.

I looked in front and saw tarmac; continuing meant no turning back. Brandon’s sorrowful pale face

flushed again.

I recalled when I opened my eyes and found him watching Josh and the sk*nk, I had noticed his rare

beautiful smile. I wondered if it was the first time the smile appeared on his face after he got sick.

However, when I decided to back out of the revenge I had completely wiped it away. I was perplexed;

he genuinely wanted to assist me, but I was an idiot for failing to notice what was there in front of

me.

“Think Thalia, think,” I kept hitting my head on the wheel. Scr*w you, Josh,” I said as I turned the car

around. I was not sure if he was going to let me back inside the house or continue with the revenge but

I was never going to know if I never turned around.

At least I proved I was not locked up against my will and I made him pay for making me watch that

sh*t.

In minutes I was back at the house, I was surprised to see the gate open; something wasn’t right; he

was always particular about security, that much I noted.

“No, he didn’t?” sprang to mind. I murmured to myself as I dashed into the house, paying close

attention to the doors. When I entered his room, he was lying on the bed, looking lifeless. I called his-

name, but there was no response. He was facing the opposite side of the room.

As I crossed to the other side of the bed o check on him, my heart began to race for no apparent

reason. The first item that struck my attention on the floor were drugs, pills, and more pills were strewn

about.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I swallowed and held my mouth open in disbelief. He took his life

because of me, and I let it settle in before leaping onto the bed and attempting to wake him up.

“Brandon! Brandon! Brandon! Please wake up. I’m back, and we can exact our vengeance,” I yelled,

but received no reaction.

“Brandon Brandon! Brandon! Please wake up, please wake up, I pleaded as I drew his head into my

chest. But there was no reaction. I cuddled him like a baby while I cried out for a stranger that I barely

knew.

But I needed to contact someone or call an ambulance, but my phone was in the plastic bag I had left

in the car outside. I looked for his tablet on the other side of the bed and attempted to move swiftly but

heard something, so I halted for a second and peered at him as he moved his head to place it on my

breast, I stopped breathing for a second.

“Do not move,” he instructed.

“Brandon?” I called out.

“Yes,” he replied.

“I thought you’d passed away.”

“Did you check my pulse, brainless girl?” he inquired.

A wave of embarrassment hit me, I was dumb, I swallowed hard and said “No, I believed you

overdosed since I noticed the pills all over the floor.”

I tried to move him but he protested, “Please do not move, I dropped the bottle, and the pills went over

the floor. I was just too tired to pick them up,” he explained.

My mouth hung open as I wiped my tears in shame. I was convinced he had committed suicide. He

inhaled deeply as if taking my scent in, the guilty I earlier had allowed him to get away with it otherwise

my shoes would have been on his face.

We just sat there with me cuddling him like he was a baby, It was odd, he was too close to my breasts,

his dumb head rested there as if he owned them. Or maybe I was overthinking and he had no idea

where his head was resting?

“Brandon Brandon?” I called out but I received no response; all I got was snoring. He was asleep.

snoring with his hands locked around my waist in a split second. I contemplated whether or not to push

him over, but ultimately chose to wait until he was sound asleep.

To be honest, I had never been so close to a man before apart from my ex-husband. But he smelled Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

really good for someone who was sick, or perhaps it was the high-end shower gels and perfume.

He also had a full head of hair, which was unusual for someone with cancer because most cancer

patients lost their hair at some time. Was it possible that he didn’t have cancer? I leaned up close and

smelled his hair; it was creepy, but I didn’t know what else to do in my situation.

I tried to think of anything to occupy my mind as I began counting the crystals on the Chandler.

I chuckled remembering how I meant the ps*cho lying in my arms. Was it fate that I bumped into him?

Was I meant to lose everything and meet him?

But he had less than a month to live? What was the point of meeting him because taking down Josh

required years of planning just like the way he planned screwing me over?