Psychotic Maniac

Chapter 42

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Dinner was being served and after witnessing his whole family gathered at the dining table, a rare occasion, Edward suspected he could escape the drama that was about to unfold. He looked around at Estella's absence, thankful she still preferred to eat in his room rather than join anyone down.

Vanessa made the first move as she made an attempt to stand up but Edward shifted his gaze toward his father and dashed to one of the empty chairs, sparing his stepmother for the effort.

He was hungry and also for the much-needed energy to handle things later that night, he grabbed his plate as the cook filled it with food—seasoned roasted chicken, salad, and peas.

Nora, sitting right next to her leaned closer before whispering. "She said she already ate." And she dipped her chips in the salad, munching finally.

Edward sighed, helping himself with a bite of chicken. Nora leaned once again, never minding the obvious disregard. "Dad is having a ceremony for your mom, tomorrow. Please don't run away like last time."

This time he did look at her. It was cruel to remember that day a few years back when they held the death anniversary publicly and Edward's absence wasn't appreciated despite the fact Mr. Blake perfectly executed the dramatic effect of the husband of his beloved wife who left them a broken and innocent son. A son who missed her and loved her.

Only he never cared or loved. He liked thinking of her but that was it. A closed door with a peephole only he had access to and he barely looked.

"Please," she pleaded, holding his eyes for the next couple of seconds then turned her head toward her bowl, and got busy.

As soon as the supper ended, Mr. Blake cleared his throat, rubbing his palms on his thighs under the table.

"There's a remembrance ceremony tomorrow at the cemetery. "Mr. Blake stated in authority. "Followed by a small donation and charity to our nearest NGOs. Be on your best behavior."

His eyes traveled on Edward who lazily sat on his chair, not hiding his disapproval.

"Edward?" he hated repeating his words but Edward preferred the bad mood anyway. "I don't see you agreeing."

"'Cause I don't partake in bullshit," he said, feeling everybody's eyes on him. "You do you but don't think I'll be joining your little circus show."

Mr. Blake was ready with his retort but it was Elvis whose words came flying out his mouth. "It's for your mom, asshole. I bet she must be up there thinking what an ungrateful child she gave birth to."

"The only ungrateful one sitting here is you, little brother," Edward said. "From the chair at the office you sit at to the position you have is all my hard work of years. And I still haven't heard a fucking 'thank you, big brother' from your mouth."

"Edward!" Vanessa's voice crossed across the room, apparently hurt. There it is. Blood is thicker than blood after all.

"Don't engage, Mom," Elvis called her. "If he can't respect his dead mother then he won't mind hurting you. And I won't stand it."

"Stop fighting all of you," Nora said beside him. "And I know Edward would never do that to Mom."

Elvis scoffed. "You know nothing, Nora," he said. "It's been years. Years of our mom trying to be nice to him, trying to take care of him. Never once did he appreciate her or put a bare minimum effort to like her. He's arrogant, stuck up, and a pile of trash that can't stand a nice family gathering."

His voice was still ringing in the air as no one said another word. Nora, with teary eyes in a lack of words, looked down just like her mother.

"Everybody leave us alone," Mr. Blake said, gesturing between him and the elder son. When nobody made a move and rather looked puzzled, he shouted. "Now!"

Elvis was ready to argue when his father waved his hand, a clear instruction to not disobey him. They all cleared the table, leaving only the two of them.

"Don't bite the hands that feed you," Mr. Blake threatened, raising a warning hand. "You better attend tomorrow's event and do everything as I say."

"Why?" he countered back. "It's not like I make it to the family photos for the internet."

"Now you have to," he said. "I've told you it's time children of my house start getting married. And since this first marriage alliance is going to be a business deal then I better display my goods to the right audience."

"What business deal?" he asked. "I've told you Estella won't be forced by you."

Mr. Blake rolled his eyes. "That train has left the station already," he said. "And I prefer this turn of events."

"The fuck is going on?" he raised his voice.

His father straightened his back. "The fuck is that there's going to be a marriage in this house very soon without any buts and no's."

"Then have Elvis do it." He said. "He's your son after all and you don't want me to ruin your perfect marriage partnership."

"No. Elvis's not fit for the role. It's you." he stated and there was something in his voice, the way his pupils dilate, a rare signature sight of him that Edward picked up about his father. The marriage was more than just profit. Mr. Blake wouldn't trust him if money was only the case.

"I decline, respectfully," he said in an impolite tone.

"You really are losing your shine, boy," he commented. "Don't forget anything is disposable to me if it's coming in my way of getting things done. And that woman upstairs in your bed and her mother, I could start with either one of them."

Hot rage filled Edward's inside but he stayed put, keeping his emotions at bay. "My lack of luster is all for show but when it's my time to shine, you better wear glasses 'cause it'll be blinding."

A corny smile spread across his face. "Poor is the teacher whose students do not surpass him," he quoted Da Vinci. "The first time I saw you on your mother's arm I knew you were one of us. You see this boon is in our blood."

"Boon?" he wanted to laugh now.

"In today's time, they call us emotionless freaks. Psychopaths," he said, a glint sparkling in his eyes like firecrackers. "It has been in our family for generations. My father told me his stories and his father told him his stories and so on. I was afraid my kids would be dormant. Like my great-great-grandfather.  So when I looked into your black eyes, I believed you had it in you. So I trained you, taught you, roughed you up. You were sure an annoying little bitch but that hollow eyes of yours never made me suspect you weren't my blood and flesh."

"Your imprint is deeper and darker than any scar," Edward told him. "Uneraseable."

"Agreed," he looked proud. "My favorite piece of work."

"Your words contradict your actions, father," Edward grunted. "You made me you and then gave it all away to Elvis."

"You're not one of us, Edward," he pointed out. At first glance, it might look like he was talking about him not being the blood, but it was the boon he was referring to.

"You're wrong," he said. "I'm everything you saw in me."

"Maybe," he said. "But I wanted more."

"I could be," he answered. "This is my home and it always will be. You're afraid I might one day go back to my actual father but it's never going to happen."

"We will have this talk later, Edward." he got up. "Better show up for the ceremony. You might as well get to meet your wife."

"No!"

He chuckled. "See. You could never be more," he told him and patted his back. "Mark my words. Anything is disposable to me. So get on with it then maybe I'll think about giving you back what you want the most. And that woman, either she lives to be your mistress or she doesn't get to live at all."

........