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It’s shocking how little I know about Nate’s life. In high school, I distanced myself from him mentally. What he did in his free time or where he spent his days wasn’t something I wanted to know. I had a creepy stepbrother who enjoyed making me uncomfortable. That’s why I wanted nothing to do with him. Everything concerning him was dead to me as far as I was concerned.
"You act like that’s a problem."
My jaw drops to my lap. "You’re twenty-six."
"And?"
"Grow the fuck up and get an apartment, weirdo."
Nate’s face contorts with fury. "Our father struggles deeply because he lost his wife. You don't care obviously. You were fine spending all your free time in the public library away from us when he needed you most. Unlike you, I’m a good son. I buy Dad groceries, take him out to appointments, and cook for him every other night. We’re a team. It’s a pity you don't want to die back to the man who raised you."
My fingers clench into fists. I’ve never hit someone, but all of a sudden I understand why Colt, Brock, and Rook are so violent. Men have a way of driving people insane.
I can’t pinpoint what it is, but something about my brother’s words is manipulative and eerie. It’s a guilt trip that I didn’t sign up for.
"you’re too old to be living with Dad."
"At least I’m not whoring myself out to loser college students and throwing away my value."
My stepbrother's life suddenly makes sense. He’s an incel.
"Oh, gross." I spot a towel in the corner of his room that’s covered in a dried shiny substance. "That’s cum, isn’t it."
Nate rises from his bed. He walks toward me, then looms in front of me. "So, someone did teach you about the male body. I was guessing when I called you a whore, but apparently I was right. You’ve given away your most precious gift and turned into a filthy little slut. Yes, that’s my cum towel. Every man has one. I could’ve shown you how it worked back when you were a freshman in high school if you were more open-minded. I could still show you right now. You can watch it come out."
I hit Nate so hard that he stumbles backward and then hop off his desk. "If I never speak to you again after tonight, that’s fine by me."
Nate rolls his eyes as he adjusts himself. "You’re such a dweeb."
I whip around to face him. "I’m a woman who knows my worth. When you tried to convince me to do stuff with you, I was a little girl who didn’t know how to push you away. Now, you don't want to fuck with me."
My inner Queen.
She rises inside me like a warrior princess pulling herself up from a swamp of despair.
The ignorance of my girlhood falls from me, clattering around my feet as scales slip off a Queen cobra when she sheds her skin.
Nate would make a deadly mistake messing with me now. The old Olivia can’t come to the phone right now because she’s dead. Only a boss bitch remains in her shoes. One who’s powerful. Strong. Loyal to her conviction and belief in herself. One who won’t put up with her stepbrother’s bullshit that makes her feel weak and small. Less than.
Brock’s words from weeks back flash through my mind.
"That’s where you’re wrong. Vulnerable, yes. Not weak. You’re stronger than every girl here. You just don't know it yet. That’s where we come in. We’re here to teach you how to find your inner power. Your inner Queen. You have what it takes to rule over Saintswood while wearing a crown woven out of roses and diamonds. You’re powerful beyond measure. You just don't know it yet."
I had no idea what Brock meant at the time. In my naïveté, I thought he was manipulating me. Telling me what I wanted to hear so that he could use me.
As it so happened, Brock was right. I was never weak, I was simply an innocent girl who didn’t realize men could be so cruel.
It took my Kings’ cruelty to understand the bread of power I wielded. The flaming swords of hellfire that I could pull out of my heart at any moment to cut down my enemies.
I stare at Nate. Unlike before, I could kill him now. I wanted to push him away, cry, and beat my fists against his chest when he’d come into my room without asking when I was a teenage girl. So much has changed. Colt, Brock, and Rook gave me the blueprint to winning a war of destruction. They teach me how to hit by hitting me—with words of cruelty. If I wanted to go apeshit on Nate, he wouldn’t stand a chance.
"You’d be wise to back down." I issue Nate an unforgiving look. One kick would be all it’d take. I’d kick this motherfucker right in the nuts to knock him out of commission. Then, I could do what I pleased.
Nate runs his fingers down his scrawny chest.He’s so pathetic."You’re making a grave mistake."
"No, you are. You fucked with a girl and never thought she’d become a woman."
A strong woman.
