Empathy (20 page)

Like you have, you little fuck.
I swallow my retort and make my way into the dining room.

You would never believe chaos ensued here. Everything is in place, no blood, no death but the smell of fear is still potent in the air, or maybe that’s just my twisted memories. A harsh death leaves a mark on a property. The walls absorb the evil leaving an echoing memory haunting the place.

I need to call Ryan. I left and didn’t even tell him where I was going. He had someone there when I made it back, and by the noises and heavy music thundering through the walls, I didn’t want to know what kind of party he had in his room.

HE’S SITTING IN HER SEAT. Oh God, the walls are closing in. How can he even use the dining room like it never happened? My mother took her final breath in that chair. She probably had no idea what even happened when she choked on her own blood.

“Mel, come eat.” Markus mocked lifting up his spoon. What is that? Red syrup oozes, dripping onto the table. The dripping becomes louder with every beat of my heart, roaring in my ears. Blood everywhere, dripping from the table, creating a river flowing straight towards me. No…no…NO!

“Puya, wake up!”

My body rattles from the force of Blake’s arms shaking me. My eyes fly open to rest on his worried face. “You wouldn’t wake up. Fuck, you were in a nightmare and I couldn’t wake you.” His voice trembles, jarring me from my own tremors.

“I’m okay. I’m sorry, I just lay down for a minute. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I didn’t really let you get much sleep last night. I take full responsibility.”

The anxiety fades into comfort. He didn’t let me sleep much; he held me and asked me things about myself.

“Favourite Color?”

“Yellow”

“Book?”

“I couldn’t possibly narrow it down to one.”

“Music?”

“Classical.”

“Shit, really?”

“Hmmm, my mom’s influence. Country was my dad’s, and soft rock is my own.”

“Film?”

“Bram Stoker’s Dracula.”

“Coke or Pepsi?”

That one gave me a chuckle. He was so serious, too. He became like a teenager meeting a girl for the first time. I didn’t ask questions about his mom but I knew he had lost his father and Blake became the parent. It’s a shit ton of responsibility to have on your shoulders at eighteen. He was headstrong, brave and remarkable for doing it all, putting himself through school and training, and making sure Ryan went to college.

I let him keep asking and answered until he asked me my favourite sexual position. When I shrugged he insisted I find one and I did, reverse cowgirl, he called it. It was me riding him backwards. I feel the heat creeping up my cheeks at the thoughts.

“The lawyer’s downstairs. That’s why I came up to get you.” Blake’s voice pops my thoughts like a bubble. My insides twist into the all too familiar ache.

He coaxes me to my feet and leads me down the stairs.

I close my eyes, praying they haven’t convened in the dining room, and sigh when Blake’s gentle tug pulls me in the direction of the study.

A grey suit matching grey hair and age-lined features greet me. Mr Dolby had been a friend of my father since I could remember.

“Hello, Melody. I’m so sorry for your loss. As you know, your family have been more than my clients. I favoured your father as one of my friends.” I offer him my hand, the grooves in his aging palm swipe across mine, encompassing my much smaller hand in his. “The reading of the will is to be done only in the company of both Melody and Markus. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” He looks at Blake.

The smirk from Markus is fleeting when he introduces himself as a detective. He actually blanches when the words leave Blake’s lips, like a spoken blow lashing across the space and hitting him in the stomach. Even his face has paled. A shiver races up my spine.

“I’ll be outside, Mel,” he reassures me, closing me in the room with the two men.

I sit through his legal jargon, trying not to snap at Markus for bouncing his knee constantly. He just wants to know what he has coming to him.

“Markus, something recently came to light and I’m sorry to be the one to tell you both this. The fact is, you may not be the biological child of Mr Masters.”

All the oxygen in the room evaporates with the pulse of Markus’ wrath. His chair flies across the room, his palms crashing down on the table. “That’s bullshit!”

Shifting in his seat, Mr Dolby looks over his papers. “This document clearly states your own mother recently divulged this information to Mr and Mrs Masters, to which the will was changed until proof can be provided.”

That would explain why I never felt any connection to him.

“That fucking bitch!” I jump from the venom in his tone about his own mother.

“It’s a mistake. We can have the tests done, right?” I ask, trying to tame the building anger pouring from Markus.

“Yes, it’s a simple test and the results will be back to you in a week or two.”

Pacing the carpet, Markus mumbles about the years he put in, earned him his money.

“Can I have some alone time with Melody for a moment, please?”

Angry blue eyes slash to me before Markus storms from the room slamming the door behind him.

“Melody, your father believed Markus has known this truth for some time now and kept up the pretence to receive his trust fund.”

My head swims with the overload of information. I need air and proof before I can do anything else.

“You will become sole heir to your father’s fortune, Melody. Your father left you well protected and in capable hands. I can manage your affairs like I have always done for your parents if you wish.”

I stand, stroking the creases from my ruffled dress. “I do, thank you. I just need to have the results before we proceed with anything else.”

“I understand. The funeral has all been arranged to your mother’s specifications. The service will be tomorrow, a small gathering at your mother’s church. A joint plot.”

I’m going to throw up. My mother had planned her own funeral? How morbid have you got to be to be to plan your death in your forties?

“A responsible parent prepares for all life’s possibilities so their loved ones don’t have the hard task of dealing with it amongst their grief.”

I hadn’t realised I spoke aloud, and his reply makes me feel worse for judging her actions when, just like always, she was looking out for me.

THE SERVICE WAS SMALL AND intimate, but Melody didn’t engage with anyone but me. I’m the devil’s spawn, I must be. How could I be so callous as to actually attend their funeral? I shook hands, nodded and exchanged greetings with all the people who cared about the deceased. My biggest sin was actually falling for their daughter, but this will get me an extra flaying when I do go to Hell. Fate created this for us though. It had to be, there was no other possibility.

I needed space. I needed to have some semblance of the old Blake to get me through the day. Markus was a time bomb, there was no way in hell I could leave her with him so instead, I went through the motions. Pretending and slipping a smokescreen into place was not something new for me, but I’d never hated myself for it before.

Melody is fucking up everything I perfected over the years. This cold freeze I let take me over was to protect myself, and with her thaw comes the incredible euphoria of her and everything she is, but it also brings guilt, remorse, pain, betrayal, abandonment and regret. It’s almost crippling. I need to find a balance between the two.

Melody fell asleep an hour ago; we’re approaching her dorm. She didn’t argue when I told her we needed to get back today, she was ready to be out of that house and away from the brother she may not have. This is why he hired him. It was all slotting together, Markus knew and wanted rid of the Masters’ before they found out and locked him out. But he was too late. Melody’s misery. Their bloody murder, all for nothing.

“Oh, I fell asleep.”

Looking over to the dishevelled Melody, I reach across to rub a hand down her thigh.

“You were tired. It’s been a long couple of days. I brought you back to your dorm.”

Looking out the window then back to me, she smiles. “Okay, then...” Her words die on her lips. “Is that Ryan?”

I follow her gaze, and sure enough, Ryan is storming towards us. Cold, dark eyes void of emotion pierce me through the glass. Anger rolls off him in waves.

He yanks Melody’s door open, making her flinch back. “You selfish bitch! Where have you been?”

Leaping from my seat, I fly around the car, pointing my finger in his face when he turns his stance on me. “Rein it the fuck in, Ry. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Don’t touch me,” he replies with eerie calm. I stare at the kid I raised, searching for him.

“I had to bury my parents, Ryan.”

He looks down at her. “You can’t use a phone? What have I told you about finding a way to reply to me in future?” He is deadly serious.

Face pinching in confusion and then soothing out, she steps from the car. “Ryan, I don’t understand why you’re acting like this, but I’m tired.”

“Sean died.”

Her purse drops from her hand, the contents spilling free onto the sidewalk. “What?”

“They brought him back, but it was touch and go.”

I shove his shoulder. “You don’t start with ‘someone died’ unless they stay dead, Ry!”

He ignores me, looking back at Melody. “He walked out in front of a car, right in front of me. It was horrible.”

Sean is the blond kid I’m pretty sure has a thing for Ryan. I don’t want to see my brother in pain but he seems to be, which explains the anger. I can’t fault him on the same thing I’m guilty of; we both turn pain into anger.

“I’m sorry, Ry.” Her tiny body wraps him in her embrace, which he accepts and returns, staring at me over her shoulder. “We should go to the hospital.”

“I can drive you,” I offer.

Twenty minutes later I drop them at the hospital, Ryan making it clear he doesn’t want me coming in with them. “Just pick us up in a couple of hours.”

I let him give me an order out of respect for him hurting right now which is a whole new side of him. I’m tired anyway and need some space. The last week has been a whirlwind and it’s taken its toll, exhausting my mind as well as my body. I’m grateful I had so many holidays stored up that work let me take time off without question.