Son of Sun, page 25
“I put in all the orders online.” I watched Central Park whiz by. “Drake is going to have everything we want.”
It only took about five minutes in the cab. We could have walked, but it was against the rules. Cabs only when going to Le Chateau.
The cabbie pulled over and let us out. I tossed him the cash for the fare and a hefty tip—because why not—and we headed to the door.
There was a new doorman that night. All dressed up and shiny. “Good evening, Mr. Adams,” he said formally even though I had never seen him before. It was kind of funny to think of doorman training involving learning to recognize my face.
“Good evening, Mr. Adams,” Drake said from behind his desk as soon as we walked in. “Mr. Rhodes,” he added, nodding to Devon.
“Drake.” Devon nodded back, looking all stiff. Like any normal person, the only time he’d be caught dead in a building like this is when he came here with me.
“I have your order.” Drake pulled three pizzas, two bottles of soda, and a plastic bag from behind the table.
I took the pizzas and sodas while Devon opened the bag.
“Sweet! I told you it would be epic!” He brandished the new video game we had picked for this week.
“Thanks, Drake.” I kicked Devon in the ankles to make him move to the elevator.
Le Chateau looked out onto Central Park from the top floor of the building. Well, really, it was the top floor of the building. As soon as the elevator doors opened, I saw me. Well, me from two years ago in a portrait of me and my dad he had commissioned for some unknown reason.
“Hey, Dad,” I muttered to the portrait. “Good to see you again.”
“Go do your rounds, Bry, and let’s get started,” Devon called as he flicked on the giant TV that sat in front of the big leather couch.
“Yep,” I called back before walking to the kitchen.
It was my job to check the apartment every week. My dad’s place. He travels all over the world for work, so I’m lucky if I get to have coffee with him once a month. But he kept this monstrosity in New York so I could have a home with him. And since I’m a minor who shouldn’t be staying in an apartment alone, I got paid for “weekly chores.” I don’t know how much. It’s all a business disbursement, but the financial advisor he sent me to last Christmas said from the funds I got deposited in my housesitting account, I could get a few doctorates and never eat Ramen.
I walked through the kitchen, checked the empty fridge. Then all three of the bathrooms for water damage. Looked over the guest rooms, my dad’s room, my room. I mean, he designated it my room, but really, I only ever slept there the day after my birthday every year, so I don’t know why he didn’t let other people stay there. He could have made a killing as an Airbnb. Not that he needed more money.
I finished my rounds and headed back to the living room. Devon had already opened the first pizza.
“All good in Le Chateau?”
“All good.” I picked up my controller, ready for battle.
Chapter Three
We played for a few hours until the pizza was gone and we knew Devon’s dad would freak if we were out much longer. We always had to be really careful not to push it too far. If Devon’s parents said he couldn’t come with me anymore, I would be stuck hanging out at my dad’s all by myself once a week. No one else from school really knew about Dad. Well, I guess they knew I must have one somewhere, but no one but Devon knew my dad was super rich. When you’re already the dorky outcast, the last thing you want is to be the rich dorky outcast. I mean, sure, more people might be nice to you, but only because they’d want you to buy them stupid things and take them to fancy parties.
Devon was the only one I trusted to know my dad picked me up in a helicopter to take me upstate for Thanksgiving lunch last year without treating me like a human piggy bank.
So, reluctantly, Devon and I went downstairs to catch a cab home. It felt like throwing money away to travel fifteen blocks, but Dad insisted and paid, so I guess it didn’t really matter.
There were no cabs lurking out front, and since it was October, it was a little cold to be standing around waiting.
“Let’s start walking,” I said, and Devon nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“I can arrange for a cab if you’ll only wait inside, Mr. Adams,” the new doorman called, but I darted past like I hadn’t heard him. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel like a Mr. Adams, and I definitely didn’t want some dude with polished brass buttons pretending he actually knew who I was.
As soon as we got a block down, Devon and I started hailing cabs. A couple sped past. One slowed down, realized we were teenagers, and pulled away. Devon reached all the way to the back of his vocabulary to cuss out the driver.
“Keep walking, Devon,” I said as rain fell in a cold mist.
“We should have waited for the new doorman to call a cab.” Devon popped his collar.
“Somebody will stop.” I raised my hand again without looking back at the street.
It was like a cue in a play. As soon as I held my hand up, a cab stopped, letting out a guy, who stepped gingerly into the rain as if it offended his sensibilities.
The ex-passenger couldn’t have been much older than twenty, but he wore a black suit with a black bowtie and white shirt. His hair was darker than his tie, and his skin an even paler white than mine. He stared right at Devon and me for a second. His eyes were dark, too. The dude seriously looked straight out of a black and white picture. There was no color to him at all.
Devon climbed into the cab while the guy stumbled away.
“Bryant,” Dev shouted, “stop watching the drunk dude, and let’s go!”
The guy looked back at us for a minute, glowering like he was about to say something. I hopped into the cab and shut the door behind me, giving the cabbie Devon’s address. We pulled away as the guy stumbled into a restaurant with a shining purple awning.
“Somebody’s having a good night,” I muttered as we pulled away.
“Maybe not,” Devon said quietly enough to not be heard over the blaring country radio. He flipped his palm to show a phone.
“Everything okay back there?” the cabbie asked.
“Fine.” I took the phone from Devon and shoved it into my pocket.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. What about lost and found? Why didn’t you turn the phone in? I’ve lost enough things in cabs to know that once they go into that logbook in the front of the cab, no rightful owner ever sees any of them again. And, even if the photocopy guy was about to get into a screaming match with me on Central Park West, losing a phone in Manhattan sucks, and I do my best to be a good Samaritan.
But if I had known what that stupid cellphone would lead me to, I would have thrown it out the window of the speeding cab and into the nearest gutter. Not even a rate-jacking, country-blasting, onion soup-smelling cab driver deserved the hell my life was about to turn into.
About the Author
Megan O'Russell is the author of several Young Adult series that invite readers to escape into worlds of adventure. From Girl of Glass, which blends dystopian darkness with the heart-pounding danger of vampires, to The Chronicles of Maggie Trent, which opens the gateway to a hundred magical realms.
2019 has led Megan on a new publishing journey, which will see thirteen projects released within the year including the Girl of Glass series, The Tethering series, The Chronicles of Maggie Trent, and The Tale of Bryant Adams. To be the first to hear about new releases, free short stories, and giveaways, sign up for Megan's newsletter here.
Originally from Upstate New York, Megan is a professional musical theatre performer whose work has taken her across North America. Her chronic wanderlust has led her from Alaska to Thailand and many places in between. Wanting to travel has fostered Megan’s love of books that allow her to visit countless new worlds from her favorite reading nook. Megan is also a lyricist and playwright. Information on her theatrical works can be found at RussellCompositions.com.
She would be thrilled to chat with you on Facebook or Twitter @MeganORussell, elated if you'd visit her website MeganORussell.com, and over the moon if you'd like the pictures of her adventures on Instagram @ORussellMegan.
Also by Megan O’Russell
The Girl of Glass Series
Girl of Glass
Boy of Blood
Night of Never
Son of Sun
* * *
The Tale of Bryant Adams
How I Magically Messed Up My Life in Four Freakin’ Days
Seven Things Not to Do When Everyone’s Trying to Kill You
* * *
The Tethering Series
The Tethering
The Siren’s Realm
The Dragon Unbound
The Blood Heir
* * *
The Chronicles of Maggie Trent
The Girl Without Magic
The Girl Locked with Gold
The Girl Cloaked in Shadow
* * *
Sweet Romance Novellas
A Midsummer Love’s Dream
Nuttycracker Sweet
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