The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)

Chapter 80

Thalia’s Pov

A month cruised by and I did not put Brandon to the machine, the risk was too much. I was always a

coward and afraid to take risks ever since I was a little girl. That cowardness crept back in and I began

self-doubting myself on every aspect of the machine. I did not want to be the person that pulled the life

out of him.

I was still doing the experiments on my monkeys and trying to make serial dilutions that were capable

of keeping a monkey alive, but a month went by with no progress and I lost count of how many

monkeys died. I wanted to be sure before putting the machine on Brandon.

Nestor did not spare me, for the entire month he kept insisting that I put Brandon to the Machine. He

just did not understand the consequences of science. Tension built between us and it was difficult to

hide it from Brandon. We knew he noticed it but chose to ignore it because his body was in a lot of

pain. He had a lot of s*it to deal with, his body was giving up on him and the last thing he would be

doing was babysitting our big assess.

He had just undergone two major surgeries to remove clots near his heart. That was the major setback

that made me begin rethinking the idea of plugging the machine on him. With each day, he woke up

weak. Internally I was fighting within myself with what decision to make. While on the outside Nestor

was pressuring me. I was always so stressed most of the days that sometimes I even forgot to bathe.

Maybe I was eventually having a baby boy according to Brandon’s myths.

But Nestor was right I needed to plug him, his body was about to give up and I needed him to be at

least safe but every day I woke up with more self-doubt.

Brandon was busy with his s*upid revenge, the fact that he could not find out why Victor was okay with

Jessica’s Pregnancy was killing him. To be honest I was tired of the s*upid revenge which he was so

obsessed with. He could barely breathe on his own and had to rely on an oxygen tank but he was still

adamant about the revenge. It was like he lived for it and there was nothing I could do about it.

But last night’s party turned everything to worse when Victor announced the pregnancy. Yes, there was

a plan they were hatching but I was too busy with the dumb machine to care. Plus the pregnancy was

killing me, one month to go and none of my shoes fit, my clothes were unbearable and for the past

three months, I had not gone for the normal antenatal. I guess I was hiding from the Nelsons but

frankly, the machine was keeping me busy.

I walked into the house and found Brandon yelling and refusing to change his diaper. He was so p*ssed

because Nestor was unable to find out what Victor was planning. He could barely move but he was

busy wasting his energy.

“Just get out!” he yelled.

It was evident he was more p*ssed about his condition than finding out what Victor was up to. I

signaled Nestor to leave the room, I was so tired and got on the bed and to my surprise, he looked

away.

“I was not done with Nestor,” he said while putting on his oxygen mask.

“Do you want me to change your diaper?” I volunteered.

“No I don’t, I want to know about Victor. Nestor is so useless, maybe we should find someone else to

replace him. He doesn’t care about the revenge.”

“Brandon I think we are all tired and need a break from all this,” I suggested.

“Victor is not taking a break so neither am I,” he replied while shifting to the other side. “I think we

should announce your pregnancy and who the father of your child is?” he requested.

I quickly got up hoping he was joking. He couldn’t even look me in the eyes because he knew what he

was requesting was not going to sit well with me. I breathed in hard, he was already upset and I was

not in the mood to argue with him. I took a seat and kept quiet for a minute just staring at him, then an

idea occurred, an alternative; “Why not tell Josh about his impotence? That way you will expose Victor

and whatever he is planning down the toilet,” I suggested.

He turned, staring at me with a smile, “You are a genius, why did I not think about that or s*upid

Nestor,” he asked.

Nestor walked in with a plate of food and placed it on the table without looking in my direction. He was

so p*ssed with me, it was like everyone in the house was p*ssed at someone. But I ignored him and

ordered him to get a pen and paper. “For what?” he inquired.

“We are going to write Josh a letter, would you like to do the honors,” I asked Brandon.

He nodded with a smile, a smile that I missed. Nestor brought the pen and paper while Brandon tried to

position himself in a seating position but he could not manage.

“It’s okay, you can try again,” I urged him.

“Thalia he can’t, he is tired and he is dying!” Nestor yelled at me like a l*natic.

Both Brandon and I stared at him in shock, the s*it head was making our tension obvious. He realized

he was way out of line and corrected himself; “What I meant to say was that Thalia can write or I can

write the letter we do not need to stress him,” he stated.

“Wow thanks for the care,” Brandon replied in an irritated tone and placed his head back on the bed.

“I was only trying to make him active, the doctor said we should make sure he is active,” I replied.

“Well he is not fit, I am the one that spends a lot of time with him and I know when he is not okay,”

Nestor replied.

I chuckled and was about to blast him when out of frustration Brandon yelled at us to shut up. I could

tell the yelling took most of his energy. I silently took a seat in shame, we were going to kill him before

his time.

“Nestor do the writing, Josh will not be able to recognize your handwriting,” he suggested without

addressing our small quarrel.

Nestor took a seat and began writing the letter according to Brandon’s specifications. I just sat there

staring at Nestor p*ssed until I noted the distortion in Brandon’s sentences. Instead of talking about

Canada, he began talking about his parent’s accident. Nestor quickly stopped writing but we allowed

Brandon to finish up.

He never talked about his parents and for the eight months that I had known him, he never spoke about

them and I also noted that neither of his houses that I had been to had photos of his parents.

Nestor looked in my direction with fear in his eyes, he was begging me and I knew what his fear was

about. There were always stories of people talking about something they regretted, missed, or longed

for during their last breath. I looked at his vitals but they were the same as when I walked into the room.

I quickly placed my hand on his forehead, my heart beating fast. He stopped talking and asked. “What

are you doing?”

“I was just checking whether….” I stammered.

“Brandon, you were talking about your parent’s accident instead of Josh’s,” Nestor jumped in.

“Oooh, was I?” Brandon replied. My apologies,” he added.

Nestor got up and made an excuse of the food he had brought being cold. “Thalia help me in the

kitchen,” he requested and I followed him from behind. Immediately we were in the kitchen, he closed

the door. “Am putting him on that machine, with or without consent. If he dies, I will take responsibility,”

he announced.

“But… but… I need”

“There is no time, I do not think he will be alive tomorrow, I was speaking to the doctor and he said the

least we could do was make him comfortable,” he added.

I held my head in confusion, I had no idea what to do, but he was right. I started something and I

needed to end it. I had lied, manipulated, and put my health and that of the baby in jeopardy. It had all

to be worth something, “Okay fine, fine I will put him to the machine, I will do it,” I stated. © 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

“Ooh thank G*d finally,” he said and hugged me. In a split second, the p*ssed Nestor was gone and old

Nestor was back. “What should I do?” He asked.

“Okay, you can go and get doctor Wilson, we will need him. No no, first prepare a room, the garage is

not safe,” I ordered. All of a sudden the baby kicked, I held my tummy and cried out. Nestor quickly

held me and helped me take a seat. “Are you okay? Did the water break?”

“No no, the baby just kicked me for finally accepting to put Brandon to the machine,” I joked and told

him to hurry with the preparations before self-doubt got hold of me. The longer we waited the more time

I was going to give myself to start second-guessing myself which was not something that I needed.