CHAPTER 16: Giving Edmund a Run for His Money
"Edmund, it's your turn," I mutter, still keeping up my facade of indifference when his image is purely burned into my mind. He probably doesn't even know it, considering I try exemplarily hard not to show even a twitch of what I see in his frame. I swallow my watering saliva, shaking my head and attempting to snap out of it.
He steps forward, "Can you promise to dodge my every attack?" He says to me, a soft question that has me momentarily diverted from his god-like looks.
I furrow my eyebrows, "What?"
"I will start slow and gradually get faster. I believe you have the skill, but I don't even want to risk the possibility of even punching, slapping, kicking, or harming you in any way." He says to me, a stern, assuring look in his silvery eyes that mail over whether he should be doing this or perhaps wants to change his mind, conflicted on whether he can change his mind.
I merely nod, "You've proven you're observant."
"Safety is a priority." He says.
I shake my head at him, "No, it's survival." I initiate the first fisted swing. He captures it in his hand and bends my arm back, slowly, enough time for me to manoeuvre under his arm and force him in a ninety-degree bending position. Lorraine smirks against her drink, I glare over at her, using the small space I have to force him to the floor, but he forward rolls into a stand.
I raise an eyebrow, "Who trained you?"
"Scouts...and navy." He whispers, his fist scraps along the side of my abdomen with increasing speed. My eyebrows move up as I pierce the side of his abdomen, not being able to help it in the stinging move, he winces, moving away, though I have to duck his twisting punch after she twirled on his feet. I send another punch into his abdomen, and he grunts at the momentum.
He narrows his eyes at me, "I honestly thought my head of security was kidding."
I shrug, "It's Rodger. Stevens worked with him and even tried with my Mom in high school...she won." I murmured before sending a blue goose egg bruise on the back of his knee as I sent a kick there. He slides to one knee, and I use the advantage to wrap my arm around his neck.
He naturally rolls forward, with me still under him. I lose my grip, slumping down on the floor as I take deep breaths at his naked closeness. My legs were side-to-side with his torso, and he dropped his pitch black hair on his head on my abdomen. His chuckle rivets along my sides as I grunt at his weight.
He runs his fingers up and down my lower legs, "Oh, that's why? Funny, Rodgers never mentioned that." He mutters. I sit up on my elbows, looking down at him.
I shake my head, "I doubt he would want to."
"Were you going easy on me then?" He wonders with a smug grin, stopping me from getting out from under him. I huff in annoyance as he adds more weight and manages to keep me pinned. I raise an eyebrow, moving my hands towards his neck, and he jolts up. I use the time to move out from under him, unfolding into a handstand, but he grabs my waist upside down.
I'm toppled over him, so I land directly on his maliciously toned chest, only momentarily distracted. I shove the pointiest end of my elbow into his abdomen. Before he could wrap his arm around my neck, I grabbed his arm and used a martial arts move. I twist it back, position it at a butterfly angle, and bend it further until he pats the mat.
I shake my head at him, "You don't quit." I mutter.
"That was the point. I'm glad you're trained." He says, sitting up on his hind legs.
I stand so as not to stare at his chest any longer; Lorraine giggles ceremoniously from where she stands. Edmund stands after me and steps forward. He grabs my waist and flushes me into his chest. I look up at him in confusion, and he raises an eyebrow, "You're screwed now." He says to me. I had been too focused on the fact that I felt almost all of him until I shoved the heel of my foot down onto his.
He grunts at the suddenness which catches him off-guard. I knock him with my elbow to his jaw, and twirling around, I shove a kick to his chest, but he only stumbles back.
He's about to step forward when my phone buzzes, Lorraine's just about to grab it as I say, "No, don't." I tell her, and she stops, and I reach for my phone; opening the screen, I move away from lingering eyes.
My heart drops.
"I've got to get this. Can you watch my stuff?" I ask her, acting like I've got someone on the phone; Lorraine nods, giving me a quizzical eyebrow, I dash towards the main entrance steps and sprint down the corridors, not caring that I was in a sports bra and shorts, my hair tie snaps as my heart pumps before I found the corner and jump in fright when I bump into a burly suited chest.
My worst of luck.
Bloody Professor Forthright.
I snap his hands off my waist, his eyes widen, and his mouth drops open in shock, "Melanie-" I dash around him and back down the corridor. I pump my legs faster, ignoring everything else with my phone in my hand. I dodge anyone coming around corners before slowly stepping towards the broken door to my room.
Someone inexperienced cut the cords with a drill. I slowly looked into the room, knowing whoever it was, was still there. I open the door as silently as possible, moving towards the peak of my room door, where my decoy laptop is thrown across the floor.
I turn towards the black hooded figure, "That was expensive." I growl at whoever it was. Which probably wasn't the best idea, considering I didn't think they'd rip a pocket knife and lunge for me.
I think fast, grabbing the canvas frame of one of my artworks and gasping in utter shock when the knife goes through and only scratches a small amount along my abdomen. I glare at the black mask I see, twisting the frame. I flick the knife out of the heavy male's gloved hand before shoving a kick into his shin, strong enough to hear him grunt.
I swing a punch towards his head, but he blocks it and grabs my hand and thigh at a wielding speed; he throws me into the piles of my mattress. I bite back a scream at the resonating pain before a hand comes around my neck, gloved and thick.
I'm lifted in front of him, squirming. I wrap my leg under his arm and the other over his shoulder. I use the momentum and throw him to the floor. He grunts when I shove my fist into his face, "You picked the wrong form to break into!"
He grabs my wrists and stupidly ties them to his, "Beautiful." He whispers. Disgust crossed my features, and I head-butted him. He grunts in anger before throwing me into the drawers; the back of my head hits hard on one of the handles, and my vision blues as I watch him shove himself out of the room.
"HEY!" I couldn't be sure which male it was.
Glass shatters on the front porch, and two callous hands touch my head and bareback. I grunt as I'm lifted and slumped against a bare chest. I sigh in contentment, glad it wasn't who I thought it was, "Edmund." I whisper, my hand darting up to his neck, my heartwarming, thank the lord it was him.
I look up, and I scream.
I scream when concerned black eyes meet mine. Not silver. They weren't silver.
"LEMON!" Somewhere behind me, I struggled against Professor Forthright, but my movements weakened as Professor Forthright sat holding me in his rigid arms. No coat and his shirt looked ripped right off, and a trail of blood skids down his bicep.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Edmund.
I'm pulled out of Professor Forthright's arms. I should have recognized that it wasn't Edmund until I was pulled upright and my legs wrapped around a toned torso. He holds me up underneath. I drop my head into his neck.
"What the hell? What happened here? Did you do something? Did you fucking do something to her?" Edmund swears, practically cursing into oblivion as Professor Forthright grunts behind me.
"No. Someone else did this. She ran into in the hallway. She knew he was in here." Professor Forthright says harshly as he moves past Edmund and towards the other room.
I hug my arms around him. He pulls my head back to look at me, "Why the hell did you run in here alone?" He whisper-yells, running the tip of his nose up my forehead before he presses his lips there, hard.
I grunt, "I hit my head." I whisper.
"Shit, sorry...please tell me it was him who broke the poles on your fucking bed?" He pleads almost, wrapping his arms tighter around me. My back surprisingly didn't feel the pain. I couldn't feel barely any pain at the moment. I was just...numb. As if the shock of it all wasn't over.
I lift slightly, looking at it from my new height of six foot four, which was freakishly tall. I look over at my broken bed before slowly closing my eyes and shaking my spread. I lean my temple on his shaven cheek, "I thought...I could...handle it." I whisper.
He doesn't say anything, but I feel his jaw clench, a rigidness new to the collection, as he steps out with me still in his arms, and towards the main room. I initiate that I could stand, but he refuses to listen and tightens his hold underneath me.
The glass sliding doors were broken across the porch, and a few pieces of jewelry were stolen. Edmund never let me go, even when Detective Johnson had turned up and asked both myself and Professor Forthright questions. I merely said I knew someone broke in. Nothing of how I knew or how I was able to detect it. Detective Johnson writes trig all down as a nurse checks me over. First, I didn't even have a concussion, just a bruised head, but she found it slightly funny to check me while a certain Alpha male refused to let go.
Professor Forthright stared at me closely when the nurse fixed the scratch wound on him, his eyes darkening the long he looked at me, only I stay staring at Edmund's collarbone, running my fingers along the bone in a calming manner. At the same time, a blanket is wrapped around both of us.
Hazard tape is placed on the glass, and everything is checked before time slows while the nurse packs up, telling me I'll need to get some rest. Principal Jewel wasn't on the school grounds, she was at a current seminar, which is why Professor Forthright was in charge. It's why he was wearing a suit at the time.
I'd never seen either male so mad as they look at me. Professor Forthright leans back in his couch seat. Everyone else was surrounding the couches as cold air moved around the room in the afternoon chill.
Professor Forthright leans forward, "You knew someone had broken in, and instead of calling the police and having professionals deal with this, you run in here and almost get yourself killed. That's thoroughly irresponsible, you know that, don't you?" He says to me. I don't even bother looking at him.
My phone buzzes on the side of the couch. I look at Mom's name on the screen and sigh in defeat. Sitting up from Edmund, I clear my throat, standing and I answer, "Mom-"
"MELANIE MYERS! WHAT IN THE LORD'S NAME HAPPENED?!" I wince at Mom's highly concerned voice. I hear Dad's familiar, calming tone on the line.
I sniffle, "Mom, someone broke into my dorm. I'm alright, I'm fine."
"I want to know why the local police department called me instead of my own daughter to tell me you have been caught in danger, not once, but TWICE! You didn't call me or anything, Melanie. What happened? Are you hurt?" She fires questions at me with her familiar, strategic, concerned tone.
I close my eyes, I sigh in defeat, "I know, I should've told you. I just didn't want to worry you. I thought the first time was just a stupid prank. This time was a burglary. Nothing else."
"Melanie, one time could be bad luck. Twice should be sending red flags through your head. I'm pulling you out, that's it. I can't trust this school has your safety in priority!" The phone is suddenly pulled from Mom.
Dad's voice enters the speaker, "Mel, sweetheart. Are you alright?" He whispers, his worry seeping through his voice.
I sigh, "I'm fine, Dad. Just a bump on the head." I laugh a little.
He sighs in defeat, "Melanie. Your Mom and I should take the jet to Vancouver. Neither of us feels comfortable with you staying there. Your brother has taken his jet here too. Even if it's just a little while, it is safer if you're around your mother and me." He whispers.
"What about my studies? What about Lorraine? I can't just leave. Dad, I swear, it's all just a coincidence." I tried to explain that I needed more time. I hated lying to him, to Mom, but if I left...what would that mean for everyone, Edmund, the elite, and Lorraine? How do I solve this if I'm not even here?
"Your mother is worried sick, Melanie, and so am I. I have already sent the jet for you, sweetheart. It's only for a week or two. Lorraine will be under full protection while you're gone." He says to me. I closed my eyes. It wasn't desperation in his voice. It was his fatherly worry. Dad was the calm one in the family; Mom would always go straight to who, why, what, when, and where.
I massage my neck, taking a few minutes to decide, "Alright. I'll...I'll pack my bags." It's silent behind me, eerily silent.
"Thank you, sweetheart. The jet will be there in an hour. You can sleep on the plane. We need you here, back home. Marvin wants to talk to you. Your Mom and I love you, and we'll see you soon, sweetheart." He murmurs,
"I love you both too," I say before hearing Marvin's voice.
"What happened, Mel?" He asks me.
I swallow, "Someone broke in. They found a loophole in our design. They could estimate where the correct cord is to hold the alarm ten minutes longer. They couldn't get past my cameras, though."
"Was it male or female?" He asks me calmly but with an authoritative tone.
"Male," I answer.
"Did you get a good look at him?" He asks me.
I close my eyes, remembering, "Five foot eleven, he was British, and he had training. He knew our kind of training as if he could pinpoint the range of manoeuvres I took."
"Our training is from multiple martial arts, concentrate. Was it Aikido? Boxing? Jujutsu? Another martial art?" He asks me.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, "More like Karate. He was skilled with a pocket knife, black handle, but there was no sign of any other affiliated party."
"Did he recognize you? You said he was British. What did he say?" He asks me.
I gulp, "Just gave me a nickname."
"What was it, Mel?"
"Beautiful," I whispered, but it was deathly quiet in the room.
"This wasn't a burglary." He says flat out.
I sniffle louder, "Don't tell Mom and Dad."
"Mel, what is going on over there?" He whispers, closing a door, so I hear his voice echo. He must have gone into a closet or bathroom. I knew they were in some sort of hotel in Vancouver.
I grunt, "I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out." I murmur in Russian.
I hear Lorraine grunt behind me, "Damnit when she speaks to Marvin in Russian. It's serious." She says.
"Is someone trying to hurt you, Mel, because I swear, I'll come over there and-" I cut him off in English.
"No, I just need a bit more training. I'm coming over to you. Dad said he had already sent over the jet. Mom sounded..." I trail off, unsure.
Marvin sighs, "She's just stressed for your safety. This could all just be some stupid prank, maybe someone from high school, Mel. You know how many enemies we could make just by being who we were. Is...is Lorraine alright?" He asks hesitantly.
"She's fine. She wasn't here when it happened."
"Has she been able to move on from me?" He whispers.
I close my eyes again, "I think so."
He sighs in relief, "I just want her to be happy, Mel. I never wanted to hurt her."
"I know. I know; look, I'll see you when I land." I tell him, speaking in English now, he swallows on the other side.
"Be careful, alright. I love you, little sis." He says, laughing lightly.
I share his laugh, "I'm older, little bro."
"By one freaking minute." He whispers, mockingly harsh. As if protesting.
"And by a minute, I'm still the oldest," I murmur, sitting on the armrest.
"I'll see you soon." He says before we both hang up simultaneously. I sit down on the armrest and sigh in disappointment, disbelief, discontent, cold rage, and exhaustion.
"You knew more than you let on to Detective Johnson." Professor Forthright says.
I don't answer him, punching my nose as Lorraine whispers, "You're leaving?" In question, she sounded distraught.
I turn towards her, bypassing over a stoically quiet and densely structured Edmund, who can't look me in the eye or say even a word, I whack a hand through my messy blonde curls, inhaling strongly and exhaling, "Only for a little bit until things settle down. They don't know if this has something particular to do with me or just a coincidence but, this school hasn't had this kind of...drama in such a short time span. It might have something to do with the company." I murmur.
Dropping my head into my hands, "When will you return, Melanie?" I hear Professor Forthright ask in a masculine, teacher-like tone.
"I don't know."
He nods, standing up, "Well, try to get some sleep, Melanie. I'll see you all tomorrow."
I close my eyes, "Thank you...for stopping whoever it was."
I look up when nothing is said. He's staring directly at me, perspiration on his forehead. He swallows and nods before exiting the room quietly. He looks back once more, only to leave again. I folded my arms, I felt like I recognized him, but I don't remember. I didn't associate with anyone in high school besides Lorraine. I was always focused on my studies, computer engineering, business engagements, and economics. It had nothing to do with high school. This was about this Academy and just the fact I have blonde hair.
It was silent. I slid into a cocoon shape back on the couch, everyone stared somewhere in the room, but frequently, they would look at me...only Edmund wouldn't. I stared into his profile.
He wouldn't look at me.
Erik clears his throat, "I think it's best if you both...stay in our shared room. Our beds are big enough to share. I can give up mine for the couch, if you want, Lorraine? Melanie?" He whispers.
I thump my head on the couch, "I'm leaving tonight. Lorraine, it's safer if you stay with them while I get a few people into work on cleaning up and heightening security." I tell her.
She drops her head in her hands, and Edmund shoves himself off the couch. I grab his hand, "Edmund-"
He rips his hand away from me, "NO! Why did you run up here? You lied about that phone call, didn't you? Running up here, thinking you could defeat whoever that fucker was. What were you thinking, Melanie? What the hell were you thinking, huh? You could have told me, a signal or something. Now, you have to leave because you let things get out of hand and blindly ran in here like what? Some sort of fucking hero. You have to leave now, don't you get that?" He scrutinizes me after yelling at me.
I turn away from him, "It's not for that long, just a little bit." I mutter.
"You could have gotten far more hurt than you are. He fucking threw you, didn't he?" He was majorly pissed. His hand gestures were wild as he glared at the broken glass in front of him.
"I handled it," I tell him.
"What was Forthright doing here then?" He asks me.
I work my jaw, "Because I ran into him."
"Why were you running?"
His question has me clenching my jaw even tighter, "Because it's not the first time someone broke into my room. I didn't think they'd do it on the same day." I whisper the last part to myself.
He very slowly turns to me, fatally quiet. The air was thick, riveting with the volumes of his anger, which were more heightened than I could have imagined, "Why won't you tell me ANYTHING?"
It might just run in the family.
I lean back; my movements slow when I feel the stiffness there. I lie back on the couch, looking up at the bland ceiling. I intertwine my hands over my abdomen, "Something you already know the answer to?"
"What does Marvin think? You talked to him, didn't you? You tell him everything? Does he know what's going on?" Lorraine moves to sit on the couch next to me.
I sit up and shake my head at her, "There is nothing to know. This could just be a coincidence." I tell her, but Edmund cuts in harshly.
"You're that use to someone trying to kill you?" He asks sarcastically.
I huff, "Stop getting mad at me, for goodness sake. This is not the right time." I tell him, not harshly, but the words weren't like taking a walk in the park.
"I have every right to be mad when you throw yourself in danger, Melanie. I should have followed you. I fucking should have followed you." He mutters the last part to himself.
I sigh in defeat, standing up and stepping in next to him. I raise my hand to his arm, and he stiffens but doesn't move. He doesn't even turn when I try to get him to do so, "I'm barely hurt, Edmund. I didn't tell you because..." I trail off, looking up at him.
It was silent for a few seconds. He moved from my hand, "You should pack, considering you're just going to up and leave without five minutes' notice and a barrel full of lies. You can take those to go, by the way. I don't need this bullshit." He spits. Moving around the room, I stop him at the door.
"Please, don't leave like this, Edmund-"
"Why? You are. Why can't I? Don't tell me I can't leave when that's exactly what you're doing, Melanie!" He says, so lowly. It almost sounds like a growl.
"My reason for leaving is far more different than yours," I whisper.
He scoffs, "Is yours more important? I want to keep you here because I believe I could be the one to protect you if you just told me the full truth; that's not important. No, but you wouldn't have to leave if you just put even an ounce of trust in me. You wouldn't have even been touched by anyone who would dare try to harm you if you saw me. If you looked at me." His words stung to the core, I looked into his stormy silvery eyes that darkened and dulled in his anger.
He rubs a hand over his chin, laughing humourlessly; nothing was cheerful about him at this very moment, "Have fun, wherever you're going, I know I sure as hell won't." My jaw clicks as he moves past me, leaving a cold air behind him as he struts out of the door.
I groan, stepping out of the door, "Edmund!"
I watch him strut away. I watch him stop listening, I watch him...leave.