Finding a Yandere in Reverse World

Chapter 9: Ms. Knight Rises

The Knight Mansion’s living room felt like a cavernous relic of grandeur, the echoes of our movements bouncing off the high walls adorned with portraits of stern-looking ancestors. Erica and I sat on a sofa that seemed to swallow us whole, the air perfumed with a blend of roses and something muskier, almost oppressive.

‘This has got to be slave money, right? Maybe oil baron money? Train track money? I don’t know. It’s giving me a bad vibe in general, though.’ I think as I nervously wait for our conversation to start.

“Jason, this is my mother,” Erica said, her voice softer than usual, a note of deference threading through the words that usually held nothing but hard edges.

“Mrs. Knight, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” My words tumbled out in a polite jumble as I stood awkwardly, extending my hand towards her.

“Vivian, please,” she corrected me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her kind eyes. She shook my hand in a firm grip, her presence every bit as commanding as the mansion we were in.

“Jason Parker,” I added and watched as the name seemed to trigger an involuntary reaction in her.

“Parker?” Vivian repeated, a fine line appearing between her brows, her lips pressing into a tight line. “Is your mother Emily Parker?”

I swallowed, suddenly aware of the weight of history pressing down on me. “Yes, ma’am,” I managed to say, my voice betraying my nervousness.

For a moment, Vivian’s gaze hardened, and the warmth she had shown moments before vanished like mist. A shadow crossed her elegant features, and her posture straightened imperceptibly. It was clear that the mention of my mother had stirred something within her and not something pleasant.

“Interesting,” she muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else, her eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed me anew. It was as if she were piecing together a puzzle with me as the final, ill-fitting piece. Her mouth opened, perhaps to deliver a reprimand or to question me further, and I braced myself for a verbal lashing from this regal figure who clearly harbored some hatred for my mother.

Before Vivian could get any words out, Erica’s voice sliced the silence with unexpected cheer. “He’s the boy I saved the other day, Mom! The one I told you about,” she said, her eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and pride.

Vivian’s stern expression wavered as if struck by a sudden ray of sunlight. The shift was almost audible. The room seemed to exhale in relief. “Oh? Is that so?” Her tone softened considerably, and a smile curved the edges of her lips, transforming her entire demeanor. “Well, that is quite the story. It’s rather endearing, actually. Erica, being your knight in shining armor.”

I blinked, taken aback by the quick turnaround. Confusion mingled with my earlier apprehension. I kinda hate being the damsel in distress but i’d be lying if I said I wasn’t exactly that to Erica. But still, the term ‘knight’ felt surreal when applied to the complex whirlwind that was Erica Knight.

‘I saw your daughter practically kill a girl today.’

“Knight in shining armor?” I echoed, unsure how to reconcile the fierce, cigarette-smoking Erica I knew with the chivalrous figure her mother now praised.

‘Granted, Erica saved my life, so…’

“Yes,” Vivian continued, her gaze flickering between me and her daughter with newfound interest. “It’s quite the modern fairy tale, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose stopping a rape is a modern fairy tale.” I wasn’t quite sure what to say, but I knew for certain what I had chosen was the wrong thing. A brief, awkward silence hung in the air.

‘I’m getting really good at fucking the vibe up lately.’

Then, Vivian let out a heavy sigh, resigning herself to a reality she’d likely been resisting. “I suppose there’s no stopping you two,” she said, her voice carrying a note of surrender. She turned to me again, her curiosity piqued but tempered by politeness. “How is your mother doing, Jason?”

The question hung between us, dangling like a spider from a single, delicate thread. My throat tightened around the truth, a tangled web of familial complications that I had no desire to unravel here, in this grandiose living room, under the watchful eyes of my girlfriend and her mother.

“Uhhh, she’s alright,” I mumbled, hoping my vague response would suffice. I avoided Vivian’s piercing gaze, feeling the weight of the unspoken stories that lay between our families.

“Ms. Knight, How did your family make its money.” I blurted out, unable to keep talking about my mother, but also really wanting to know how they made their money.

‘I gotta know if any of it came from the slave trade.’

Vivian’s eyes narrowed slightly at my abrupt change of topic, her lips pressing into a thin line as if measuring the appropriateness of my question. The atmosphere tensed a palpable shift that felt like stepping from a warm room into a chilling breeze.

“Our wealth,” she began, her voice controlled and even, “comes from many generations of strategic investments and industries ranging from technology to real estate. Knight Industries prides itself on innovation and ethical business practices.” Her eyes fixed on me, challenging yet not entirely hostile. “We have always been committed to progress and equality.”

‘It’s like she can tell why I am asking and is giving the most whitewashed response.’ I nodded, relieved but still slightly skeptical. The mention of ethics and equality seemed almost too polished, a rehearsed line meant to reassure but also to fend off further inquiry.

Erica, sensing the tension, stepped closer to me, her presence reassuring. She placed a gentle hand on my arm, her touch whispering promises of protection. “Don’t worry too much about all that, Jason. What matters is now, right?” Her voice was a low murmur meant only for me, soothing yet laced with an unspoken warning to tread carefully.

Vivian watched our interaction with a shrewd gaze, then turned her attention back to me with a softened expression. “It seems you’ve found quite the advocate in my daughter,” she commented, a hint of amusement coloring her tone. She then paused as if considering her next words carefully. “You look like the type of woke modern boy who has quite the passion for history and social justice.”

“No that is not the case at all. I actually hit my head the other day and now i have trouble with social norms.” I responded with a practiced response that should make people understand why I am a bit of oddball until I learn how to work with society better.

Vivian’s eyes widened slightly at my response, a mix of concern and confusion flickering across her elegant features. She turned to Erica, her brow furrowed. “Is it really okay to date him? Are you taking advantage of him?” she asked, her voice low but filled with maternal worry.

Erica shrugged, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders with a casual motion. “He’s the one who pursued me,” she replied nonchalantly, taking out a vape pen and taking a hit off it. As she breathed out, the smoke curled around her like a lazy cat, adding to her air of cool indifference.

Vivian’s gaze sharpened, her lips pursing as she considered her daughter’s words. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her response. “And the physical aspects of your relationship?” she pressed, her tone delicate yet probing. “Was that his idea as well?” She asked with disbelief, as if she was accusing her own daughter of raping me.

Erica’s eyes flashed with annoyance, a spark of defiance igniting in their blue depths. She pointed an accusing finger at me, her voice rising with each word. “He was literally begging for it, Mom!” she exclaimed, her words echoing off the high walls and ornate furnishings.

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, painting them a deep, unmistakable red. Embarrassment flooded through me, mingling with a strange sense of excitement at Erica’s bold proclamation. I shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, suddenly very aware of the weight of Vivian’s scrutiny.

Vivian’s eyes darted to me, taking in my flustered state. A flicker of understanding passed over her face, followed by a resigned sigh. She seemed to make a decision, her shoulders relaxing almost imperceptibly as she let the subject drop.

“Well,” she said, her voice carefully neutral, “I suppose it’s not my place to judge.” She smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her impeccable suit. “But I do hope you both know what you’re doing.”

Erica rolled her eyes, a smirk playing at the corners of her full lips. “We’re not kids, Mom,” she drawled, “We can handle ourselves.”

I nodded in agreement, trying to muster some semblance of confidence despite the lingering heat in my cheeks. “I may have hit my head or fell.. I guess I don’t really know exactly what I did in hindsight,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt, “but I know what I want.” My eyes found Erica’s, holding her gaze with a mixture of adoration and determination.

Vivian watched our silent exchange, a knowing look in her eyes. She seemed to be weighing something in her mind, a decision that hung in the balance. Finally, she spoke, her words measured and deliberate.

“Very well,” she said, her tone carrying a note of finality. “Have you told your mother about you two, Jason?”

I shifted in my seat, a nervous laugh escaping my lips as I tried to find the right words. “I, uh, I did mention it to her last night, actually,” I said, my voice wavering slightly under Vivian’s intense gaze. “We had a family discussion about it.”

Vivian’s eyebrows raised slightly, her interest piqued. “A family discussion? And how did that go?” She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs elegantly as she appraised me with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

I cleared my throat, the memory of the previous night’s conversation with my mother still fresh in my mind. It had been a tense affair, filled with raised voices and exasperated sighs. “Well, she wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. She had concerns.”

Erica scoffed, taking another drag from her vape pen. The sweet scent of the vapor mingled with the room’s fragrance, creating an oddly intoxicating aroma. “Concerns? More like prejudices,” she muttered, her words laced with bitterness.

Vivian’s gaze sharpened, her attention fully focused on Erica now. “Prejudices?” she repeated, her tone a mix of surprise and disapproval. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

Erica met her mother’s stare unflinchingly, her blue eyes blazing with defiance. “She probably thinks I’m some kind of delinquent,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Apparently, getting arrested enough gets you put on the shit list if you are someone’s cop mom. I assume. She didn’t seem fond of me for the five seconds I talked to her.”

I shifted uncomfortably. Part of me wanted to defend my mother, but it’s not like she’s easy to defend. She threw the sirens at us last night, for god’s sake.

Vivian sighed, massaging her temple with perfectly manicured fingers. “Erica, darling, you have to understand how it looks from the outside,” she said, her voice taking on a patient, almost patronizing tone. “A young man from a respectable family suddenly got involved with a girl who has a reputation for being.... unconventional. Even if you don’t have a record because I keep donating to the Salem PD, she would still know.”

Erica’s jaw clenched, her fingers tightening around the vape pen until her knuckles turned white. “Unconventional?” she spat, the word like venom on her tongue. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

I reached out instinctively, placing a hand on Erica’s arm in an attempt to calm her. Her skin was warm beneath my touch, and I could feel the tension thrumming through her body like an electric current. “Erica,” I murmured, my voice soft but insistent. “No matter what, I don’t really care what my Mom thinks of you.”

“Jason, I care what your mom thinks of me.” She responded like it was obvious.

“Oh, fair enough.” I replied to her, losing interest in the conversation.

“Ms. Knight, did any of your family’s money come from railroad development?” My ADHD got the better of me.

‘I wonder if her fortune was made on the lives of Chinese laborers instead of slaves?’

“Erica I think Jason’s tired, you should drive him home before his mother get’s worried.” With that Vivian got up and left the room. Taking her mysteries with her.

‘One of these days, Ms. Knight. Your secrets will be mine.’

Erica’s eyes perked up. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Wait, you have a car?” I realized I hadn’t seen her drive yet.

“It’s too embarrassing to drive to school with. It would fuck up my image.” Erica looked annoyed at my question.

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