CHAPTER 78: Turn Me Aflame
I take a long sigh as I stare into the night. My old room behind me with Edmund sleeping soundlessly while I stare out at the rain, folding my gown over my shoulders as I stare down at the field of silver rain and piercing ringing in my ears. We left New York in pale haste, my bones didn't stop wanting to shiver, but one thought was all it took for me to endure the familiarity of the wintery architecture in front of me. It snowed on Christmas Day, and mine and Marvin's birthday on Christmas Eve.
Edmund had said my present would be for both Christmas and my birthday.
He looked into my eyes as he held it, "I've been holding onto this for months now. I don't want to wait any longer, Lemon." He was almost too persistent and I loved it.
A key.
Not just any key, though, a key to the estate on Kingston Drive.
He bought it already, having confirmed it the morning of Christmas Eve-to which I didn't know about when I returned home to Mom and Dad, both had questions, but still held back, whereas Marvin didn't. He didn't even hesitate to pull me aside and demand what happened, despite Edmund's warning glares. When I told them all of what they needed to know, then it all toned down, yet my head was twirling and I couldn't rest as I stare out at the wind.
The rain grows heavier as I feel a certain heat source curl their burly arms around me from behind, "You're relentless when your gears are turning, Lemon." He says above me, before curving his nose close to my cheek, he covers my fingers and curls them into his.
I tilt my head up, he connects our foreheads and I close my eyes, "She's smart, cunning, and vengeful. We've seen what she's done, what she did to Bella, Corinne and Stella-just because they were related to those from Celestial Signs who turned to Parker's Designs. The way she used Johnson, the number of deaths she's falsified. She appears dead to the world. What if we made it that she wasn't? Would exposure push her over the edge? I'm trying to understand her, but how she killed Claude and his father, Edmund. There was no mercy in her aim." I mutter, turning into him and looking up at him.
His silver eyes trail along where his fingers slide mine up around his bare neck, he picks me up easily before turning towards the couches to my room, "You promised you would meet her alone on that cliff right? I need to know who your secret source was, who gave you her location when we all found her on the festival grounds." He tells me, in all seriousness.
He sits me on his lap, straddling him as he runs his knuckles along the back of my bare thighs.
I blow out a puff of air, "Brandon Sinclair, I recruited him with the help of Grandpa Stevens when I looked at his record. He got her information and informed me that when this meet happens on the cliffs, he'll have a few specialized teams on standby, with the help of Forthright. Now that they know the idiot isn't dead." I say to him, letting go of his shoulders to run my pale, cold fingers through my blonde strands, almost in delicate agitation.
He raises an eyebrow, "The same detective you spoke to on your solo mission before I got involved?" He questions.
I trail my eyes back to his analyzing silver ones, "Johnson lied when he said Brandon was the first to see Maven's body, or he wouldn't have confirmed his death and so-called confession letter. It made me believe it was Johnson who killed Maven because the confession wasn't effective, I knew Maven's dominant hand, except when he shoots or holds his gun, he can use another hand, but he didn't when he was with me. So, he did write the confession, but I believe Charlize was there; he could have been working with her all along." I murmur, tapping my bottom lap with my middle finger and forefinger, staring at the side of his head.
He tilts his head, "Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?"
"How did I not see it, Edmund? I thought Maven looked sad...but when I was in Vancouver, he called me to tell me he had more information, to meet him at Sylvan Point when I got back, where I found those files and Bella's bracelet, though it could have been her anklet." I mutter, thinking aloud.
He leans up with a furrowed expression, "Hold up when were you at Sylvan Point?" He asks me, watching me closely.
I drop my head in my hands, "I got back from Vancouver early, remember?" I whisper to him.
"That's when you first saw Claude and the principal?" He questions slowly before adding, "Why didn't you say anything? Babe, we were all in your dormitory when you got back." He says to me, furrowing his eyebrows as I give him more and more information.
I fold my arms and stare at him, "Could I have? Edmund, our relationship hasn't exactly been a walk on the beach." I tell him, about to stand, but his expression softens as he shakes his head and coaxes me to sit back down, straddling him, only he pulls me closer to him and nudges his head softly against mine.
"I'm sorry, I know I haven't made it easy, but I'm completely open now Lemon. No more secrets and no more lies, I don't want that anymore." He whispers, cupping my cheek to get me to look at him.
I lean forward and curl one arm around his broad shoulders, connecting it with the other I'd slid up his chest, "I told you how I got your location, didn't I? Despite your best friend's efforts at making me look like the bitch again." I tell him.
He sighs, "That's not what Talon was doing, Lemon. He's more reserved than the rest of us, I use to be worse than him, he just needs to find his girl." He whispers softly, pecking my nose.
I stare straight forward, "He called me 'Lani,' Edmund." I tell him.
He still under me, "I haven't noticed any...changes in his behaviour regarding you though." He says slowly. I trail my eyes to his silver ones, that connect with mine, I attempt to read him, and as he promised, Edmund obviously didn't like the mere fact Talon gave me a nickname.
I look at him, "I want to know what you told him to do when I was still new to the Academy. You knew the passageway. He used it, and your code into the library to spy on me, but he left, even when Claude tried to break my neck. I don't...hate him for it, but I'm not comfortable with him, Edmund." I tell him truthfully as I lean back.
He cups my cheek, "I know, and I'm not forcing you because I didn't help you when I should have, and I've been kicking myself for it ever since. I'm not proud of my choices, Melanie, and I am sorry." He murmurs to me gently.
I shake my head, "I'm not angry with you, I'm not bringing this up because of that. I just...I don't understand why they had done such elaborate manipulations. Iris thought I was involved with Forthright, she knew of the peep-hole in his office, and in almost every session with him, I was either angry or trying really hard not to get physically sick because I thought he was a predator. Despite our arguments, I relied on you so much." I murmur, wiping my eyes as exhaustion filters me quickly.
"We both need to work on communication, Lemon." He murmurs, pulling himself closer and hunching his shoulders around me protectively. I nod gently, embracing both arms around him now as he slides me closer into him.
I drop the side of my head against his cheek, "We have time." I murmur. He hugs me into his chest, arms running like tight vines against his back to keep me flush with his chest. His soft but long breaths against my hair and the rhythmic lulling of his heartbeat were working wonders for my headache, allowing me to slow down, and stop the room from turning.
He snuggles, "Yes, we do." He whispers.
I'm almost sure I fell asleep on his shoulder because waking up in the later morning, snuggled on top of him with his warmth overpowering the electric blankets and the soft smile on his lips as he ran his fingers through my hair, seemingly awake earlier than me. I hide my head into his neck. He chuckles lightly, squeezing me tighter, "I almost forgot how much I missed this when I was down there." He murmurs against me. I hmm, wrapping my arms around his neck, he runs his fingers up and down the silk of my chemise, almost relaxing me more before my phone dings on the table.
He curls over me, "No." he says.
I groan when his weight all but flows over me. My phone keeps vibrating, before a knock enters on the door, "Creed, are you decent? Your group is downstairs." Marvin bangs my locked door. Edmund drops his head into my neck.
"Your brother is asking for it now, Lemon." He says in all finalization, before throwing himself off the bed, placing a kiss on my hip when I barely move or bother stopping him before he moves towards the door, one last look to me, before closing it and shrugging the black shirt I knew he swiped from my couch. One of his clothes, which already seems to be in my wardrobe too. He even made room for his shoes next to mine.
And his toothbrush in the en-suite, along with his shaver, masculine waterfall cologne, hair gel-all of it seems to be shared with all my products now. I was almost too used to him being everywhere now, never too far from me.
My phone vibrates again.
I groan and sit up, shuffling towards the edge of the bed, I reach for the phone, "Melanie speaking." I murmur into it.
I hear static silence before she speaks, "You killed Zoysia. I'm impressed, Melanie. I didn't think you had it in you to murder the woman who continuously beat upon your fiancé, but alas, all our true colours are revealed when we're pushed past the breaking point." She says to me; Charlize has a biting breath on her tongue and my spine stiffens when I hear it.
I narrow my eyes, "What makes you think I pulled the trigger?" I ask her darkly.
She scoffs, "I wouldn't have believed it if it weren't for the mere fact you deliberately closed the door between you and that bus full of scared, frightened children...just to watch her die. No wonder we share the same blood, I mean-I got to watch Oswald die. It is satisfying the more exposed you are to it." She murmurs, sounding to be outside on a balcony of sorts.
I stare out into the storm, "Murdering Claude and his father was surprising. You figured out who he was and decided it was time he paid for a crime he didn't commit. I read his file. He thought you died; he thought he lost his daughter, Charlize. You killed the last shred of family you had left." I spit down on her, challenging her almost, and she takes the bait.
"You think I cared for either of them after what that bastard did to me? He deserved a bullet to the brain. Poppy is my family, pure-blooded and all. Even if she is John Parker's daughter, everyone sees Christina in her, Melanie. Your mother is the strongest of us all. I want that strength-"I cut her off with a snap.
"No, you want to harness it and place a podium on the company with your damn name on it. That's what you want. If you wanted a motherly figure, you would have fought harder against your Grandfather. You'd have fought harder for your Mother, you let yourself be dragged into Oswald's bloodthirsty wrath because you saw dollar signs all over him. That was your decision, your loss. Don't you dare bring my family into your bullshit, or you'll see what I'm really like, Charlize?" I growl lowly into the phone.
She cackles.
Before laughing, "Oh my, you almost had me there, honey...or should I call you 'lemon'? You do prefer such an American slice underneath you, don't you? He's strong, attractive, and holds all the qualities we women love in our males, but he doesn't seem to understand the fact that you're not meant to breathe any longer, dear. Why do you think I worked so hard to screw with you? Every detail, every old article of buried blonde bodies scattered all around the Academy you thought you were so very lucky in getting into. Lemon, dear...that was all under my watch, my allowance, and my control. You're not strong enough, smart enough, or good enough to be considered a Parker, a Celestial...even a Myers. What do you contribute, Melanie?" She asks me.
I study her words.
"You had to contribute something, show your worth to prove to your own family that you were one of them, Charlize. That's not love. That doesn't build on relationships. Those kinds of morals tear them down by tearing streams and cold-blooded hearts. I don't have to contribute strength to my family, which I do on my own. Love isn't a law. It's not a bribe, it's not an order. You wouldn't know that if you stared it dead in the heart." I mutter to her, stepping away from the window.
"I stared into my daughter's eyes, Melanie. I stared into her heart before she stopped breathing before her heart stopped beating. I know loss, and I know love. My daughter's dead heart, Melanie. Can you describe what that feels like? You have a support system as strong as the bloody pentagon. I'm not like Dark-Wood. I'm not like Winston, only he cared about Christina, no matter how much abuse he laid into her. He taught me how to be strong, he taught me to win against Oswald. He taught me how to remove mercy from the equation." She taunts as if she could call it a taunt.
"Then you learned all the wrong life lessons." I say to her slowly.
"You're as heartless as I am, Melanie. Just damn well, look in the mirror. Don't you know, I taught you how to writhe in fear, I made you feel what it's like to be hit, to have a barrel stuck to your skull and threatened over and over again until there's nothing, not even a shred of dignity left and right when you think you've hit rock-bottom with your fiancé's web of lies, I drowned you along with Bella. I cut you like I said it was done to me, I pushed you off the cliff and made you hit face first on those wet-mounted rocks with Stella. I placed you in a simulation and made your mind spin with every mission, every investigation like I did with Corinne. I've defeated you time and time again. I sure as hell can make you burn, Melanie." She snaps at me, fire-breathing down my neck, yet I was surrounded by cold storms, by thunder and lightning, by rain colder than glaciers.
I'll get frostbite before I ever let this bitch set me aflame.
I close my eyes, "Let the spark ignite the first flame. Because this time, no death of yours can be faked under my fingertips, Charlize Celestial." I say to her before swiftly hanging up the call, my head pounding as I slide down the duvet of the mattress. I couldn't feel...she lost her baby, I knew that I confirmed that.
But hearing her deadened words, her broken emotion, her shattered soul.
She's lost too much to be saved now.
I stared straight forward into the wall. She tormented me all year. Using Corinne, Stella's, and Bella's deaths to force me to react and intervene so she could intertwine. So she could interfere and pull the strings with a board behind her and a twisted, vile family like hers.
Winston enforced discipline, order, and aggression.
Oswald enforced pain, authority, and dominance.
Her father lost belief, her brother didn't even know he had a sister, he had more family, and she shot him in cold blood to get to his Father, to get to her father's to get to Claudius. She needed him to feel her pain and misery because he stood by and watched, which was as bad as doing nothing. As bad as knowing nothing.
Deep down, he had to have known how Winston was hurting Charlize and what drove her to do this, to become this way, to drive her into insanity, because she's so far into her little world, her idealistic future that my Mother would accept her into this family, when so often had she tried to kill me. She didn't stand a single chance.
I was Melanie Parker-Myers.
Daughter of Poppy Parker and Maximus Myers, survivors of Russian roulettes, kidnappings, lies, broken hearts, car crashes, and one of the most powerful love couples this world has ever seen. I have her blood running through my veins, I have his eyes, his source of mercy.
My phone vibrates again in my fingers, her location and time, right on the cliffs where Stella had been pushed, right when the storm brews. She wants to meet this evening, in exactly four hours.
The door opens, "Lemon?" Edmund questions as it closes.
I wait until he steps in front of me. He kneels, "She called, didn't she?" He whispers down to me, arms enveloping my legs. He cups my cheek as I open my eyes and stare into the sour silver storms above me.
"It'll be tonight," I murmur.
He curls his hand around the back of my head, lowers his forehead to mine, and takes a deep breath, "We'll be ready."
We have to be.
******
A | N: Hello, little doves. We're two chapters off the epilogue, which I have already written, and then I'll be moving straight to His Sour Lemon, I can't wait to reveal more, and please, let me know how you've found the story...whether it flows?
Did I set too many plot twists? Have I left any plot holes? Hehehe-I would love to know! Please vote and comment! Enjoy for The Little Dove will soon come to an end.
Sincerely, Darkblonde1