5 A stalker

Date = 5 September

Place = San Francisco (Uncle John’s house)

 

POV - Melaena

Not for one moment have I suspected him to be the cause of my curse.

Why did Damion do that? Why mess up my life all the time? I swear he’s frozen on the inside … cause no one with a warm heart can be that cruel.

I need to get to the bottom of this. He needs to explain.

My phone vibrates and I look at the screen in anticipation, hoping just for a second that it’s Damion, before realizing that he doesn’t even have my number. I want to tell him exactly what I think of his threats. Who the fuck does he think he is? I frown when I see a message from an unknown number. I swipe the screen.

Private number: Hi Melaena, hope you’re enjoying the party

Mel: Who is this?

Private number: Call me D

Mel: What do you want?

Private number: Revenge. But mostly I want you!

Mel: What?

Private number: You belong to me, babe!

Mel: Fudge off!

Private number: Oh baby, I’m not going anywhere. You are mine.

I blink, wondering if maybe the person got the wrong number, but it can’t be, because he mentions my name. What the hell is going on? Ug, I just don’t have the energy to worry about some random asshole sending me a stupid message. Then it hits me between the eyes. Maybe it’s Damion himself trying to be funny. Didn’t he say that I’m his and his name starts with a D? Yep, it could be him. Damn ass is psychotic, now I’m sure of it.

I slip my phone into my pocket. I need to find Kiara and then we need to talk to Damion.

As I dally towards the games room again, a female voice stops me dead in my tracks. It’s Haley’s.

“I see Chloe is here?” At the mention of that name, I lean against the wall, ears pricked.

“Yes.” It’s Damion. And then there is the distinct sound of a big sigh. “Ug, Mom, what am I going to do about that girl?” I peek around the corner, keeping it low like Jackson taught me.

“I thought you made up your mind to go after her.”

“I did. It’s not that easy.” Another deep sigh. “There are rules …”

“Oh, yes … YOUR rules. You never cared about MY rules that much,” Haley chuckles. “Nor your school’s rules, or even the Grand Prix rules.” He pulls a face at her. I’m with her on this … he’s not a rule follower.

“Okay, okay, forget the rules. But I’ll definitely get hurt … physically … the devil will probably kill me this time,” he snorts as if he’s amused. What is he talking about? Maybe he put a curse on this Chloe girl too.

“Oh, my poor son. Maybe you should fall in love with another girl … one who isn’t related to Satan then.” Is she toying with him? Judging by the ridicule on her face, I would say she is. He eyeballs his mom.

“There is no other girl for me.” The tone of his voice tells me he means it. Damn, I can’t believe HE of all people might be in love. And with that bitch of all people. He sure has shitty taste.

“Great, ‘cause I didn’t raise a coward. Luckily your dad knows how to fix broken bones.” Yeah, he does. He fixed Kiara’s ankle. Dr. Deimos is one of the best Orthopedic surgeons in the country.

“I’ve hurt her badly and I’ve broken her trust so many times … I would not be surprised if she really hated me.” He’s not joking now. Wow, I never saw this side of him before. Maybe I got him all wrong.

“Any broken thing can be fixed with the proper tools and loads of patience. I’m sure as soon as she believes that you’re sincere, her heart will start to trust you.”

I’ve heard enough and I just can’t stand it anymore. He loves the brunette, really loves her. Chloe. He loves her with all his heart.

Wow. I never thought he had a heart. But it seems he does. And now it belongs to her.

I feel as if I’m going to puke.

I walk back to the bar in a daze, putting one foot in front of the other until I bump against the wooden counter. I lean my elbows onto the surface and put my head into my hands. My eyes tear up.

What do I care? I hate the man. It’s my hypo-thingamajig that’s all confused again.

“Oh boy, are your brothers going to be sick,” Kiara suddenly speaks next to me. “They’re feeding Logan STROH rum, but now they started to join him.”

I don’t actually care what my brothers are doing. I have other problems. But, nonetheless, I turn my head towards the end of the bar where all the guys are gathered in a circle around Logan. Axel is handing shots to my brothers — which they eagerly down. The crowd cheers them on.

Enrique is still stuck to his ginger, and Chloe is glued between Damion and Ren. Uncle John, Doctor Deimos, and Doc Barney formed a line against one wall, silently watching from the sideline.

Chloe suddenly puts her lips against Damion’s neck. I feel the previous nausea pushing up my throat again. Green jealous puke.

“Blarg!” I gag and pull a hideous face. I take my anger out on Kiara.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Her brows shoot up in shock.

“Are you starting your period early or are you just sexually frustrated?” Kiara asks with a deep frown.

I stare at the brown-haired bitch. She follows the direction of my gaze.

“Did you and Ren fight?”

“Ren?” I ask surprised. What does he have to do with this? “No. Why?”

She seems confused as she stares at me with her eyes pulled into a thin line.

“Is it Damion again?” I pull up my shoulders and shake my head.

Jackson suddenly grabs Chloe this time, prying her claws from Damion’s arm, he pulls her rather hardhandedly out of the room to the front of the house. She looks frustrated and angry. I notice one of the guards carrying Jason over his shoulder going in the same direction. My brothers can be so strange.

“Ug, I’m just a little frustrated. Sometimes, I’m sure guys are just born brainless and heartless.”

“You sound like me. What did you do with my friend?” she teases. Jackson returns alone and continues drinking.

“I’m starting to think you’re right … men are just on this earth to reproduce more brainless-heartless males so the cycle can continue. Look at this stupid example for instance.” I hand Kiara my phone and she reads the message.

“Who will send you something like that? And,” she adds in the same conversational tone, “revenge for what?” Again I shake my head and pull up my shoulders. I truly have no idea.

“Do you think it could be Damion trying to be funny,” I ask, my eyes digging into his muscled back. Strange how he doesn’t seem to care what happened to Chloe, the love of his life.

“Nah, he’s crazy but not one to do something like this.” She seems sure of it, but I’m still not convinced it’s not him.

“You look like you need some serious girl time.” She nods her head eagerly. “Let’s blow this party.”

“What about Ren?” She looks at the crowd where he’s standing next to Damion.

“Oh, I’m sure he can find the door by himself.” I get the feeling that Kiara is not very fond of Ren too. “And his stupid school buddies can help him.”

“I think Jackson might have gotten rid of them,” I say. They never came back.

“Well, good for him. I like that brother’s style.” I love my brothers … all of them. Very very VERY much. But Jackson’s got an extra special place in my heart. And for good reason … he saved my life. It happened very long ago … I was about 4 or 5 … and he never talked about it again. And yeah, I still can’t recall all the details, but I know it happened. There’s a lesion on my knee and a scar on his arm, covered by his tattoo, that proves I’m right. I’m also sure that’s how my fear of guns originated.

Kiara calls the guard acting as barman and speaks softly in his ear. He hands her some bottles — one pink Tequila Rose, a salted caramel Irish creme, and Kahlua. She takes my hand and pulls me after her. We make a stop in the kitchen and grab a tub of double fudge and two spoons, giggling all the way to my room.

My bed is still struggling underneath the pile of HER clothes that came from MY cupboard.

“Okay.” She drops the bottles on the sofa and opens my cupboard. A hoody flies through the air and hits me against my head where it gets stuck. I put the ice cream down before removing it.

“Put that on.”

“Yes, bitch sir.” I salute her with a chuckle, slip off my pants and shirt, and climb into the hoody. I watch her doing the same. She’s much taller than me, roughly a head, slim, and voluptuous with the most exquisite caramel skin and curly black hair.

She sweeps the garment stack to the ground like a bulldozer. I slide in, underneath the colorful quilt, my mom stitched for me when I was little, and I place the tub between us on the mattress. I grab Pan and lay him on my tummy.

Kiara hands me the black bottle with strawberry cream. I take a big gulp and feel the liquid burning my throat. I pass the bottle to her and dig into the ice cream.

“You would not believe what Ren told me,” I start between bites while swinging the spoon around. I tell her that Damion is the one behind the curse.

“That’s … eh … unexpected,” she says handing back the bottle. “But also not so much.”

“All my inexperience is due to his menaces … and then he dares to tell me I don’t know what I’m doing,” I go off. I need to get it out.

“But why did he want them to stay away from you?”

I sip and swallow. This Tequila Rose stuff is going down rather smoothly with the double fudge desert.

“Ug, I don’t know. To mess up my freaking life; to torture me; because he could; he’s an asshole. Pick one.”

She looks at me with a wry smile and I don’t even want to guess what’s going on in that little head of hers. But I know she’s going to tell me.

“I can think of another reason,” she pauses for effect, “He’s into you!”

“Nope, you can scratch that … he loves Chloe,” I continue to tell her what I overheard. Tears suddenly prick my eyes again and I take another big sip of strawberry liqueur, swallowing down the snot with the alcohol.

“Oh,” Kiara pulls big eyes. “Now I know what this menopause mood is all about. You’re jealous.”

“Gmf. Of that bitch … PLEEEEAAASSSEE.” But she’s right. I am jealous. But not of Chloe herself … but of what she has … Damion Grimm’s heart.

“I can’t believe he’s in love, full stop. Wow, the biker lost his heart. Never thought I’d see the day. Are you sure you heard right?” I nod. I’m sure. “Maybe he was talking about another girl or someone else that fell in love,” she tries again. “You know you sometimes get it wrong.”

“It was ONE time …”

“TWO,” she holds up two fingers “It was two times … the bomb and the assassination … three if you count the bodies in the garden.” Yeah, she’s right … it was more than once. But to my defense, I was young and dumb and stupid with a slightly overactive imagination.

I was certain I heard our math teacher discussing the football coach’s assassination with the science teacher. And I definitely heard the principal telling his secretary that the bomb was gonna explode as soon as his wife arrived.

As for the bodies in the garden … it turned out our neighbor’s beloved cat died … the reason he was digging a grave.

Now I’m not that young anymore. And hopefully not that dumb and stupid.

“I was young and dumb. But this time I’m right. His mom clearly said … Chloe …” I sigh. “And Ren wants ME to be her bestest best friend. It’s so frickin screwed up.”

“Hey, what about me?” she protests. “I’m your bestest best friend.”

“Don’t worry … that is NEVER going to happen.” If I ever saw that girl again it would be too soon. I really really don’t like the bitch.

“Good. I won’t like sharing you with the likes of her. I’m not very impressed with the company your new lover keeps,” she says with a scrunched-up nose. I give her the bottle. I’m not fond of his friends either. Maybe it’s time to break things off with my new boyfriend. Is it too soon? It feels as if I haven’t tried giving him a chance.

“So,” she hands me the salted caramel creme bottle. “Do you think you have a stalker now?” I’m thankful for the change of subject.

I shrug my shoulders. Who would stalk me? I’m not famous or anything. I still think it might be Damion.

“Please let him be hot and not an idiot like all the guys in our lives,” Kiara giggles.

“I can drink to that.” And I do. My head is getting slightly dull. We silently finish the second bottle. I can honestly say I’m not that sober anymore.

Kiara falls from the bed as she reaches for the Kahlua. I start laughing … hard.

“Sniff pixie dust and soar,” I snort, wiping tears from my face.

“Ho … that’s Damion’s shit,” Kiara crows while crawling back onto the bed in the most unflattering way I’ve ever seen a human getting on a bed. I grab the bottle from her and throw the contents into the ice cream tub. She watches me with what looks like utter concentration, a stripe of something gooey dried on the skin of her cheek … alcohol, ice cream, snot, spit … or a combination of it all.

“Yes, it’s Damion’s Peter Pan crap.” He said it to me that day at the haunted house when the pain in my arm started kicking in. Claimed that some special girl always said it to him when he was down.

And it actually works … trust me. I’ve been using it ever since and whenever I say it to myself, I immediately feel better. Like magic. Like Mom’s Bolognese.

I tap Pan on his soft squishy head. “That’s where you got your name,” I say to the toy and laugh out loud again. “From Damion’s thingy.” Get it … Peter Pan shit … Pan?

“Damion’s thingy,” Kiara burst out in laughter. “Bet it’s an impressive thingy … " I snort, and snicker and howl as I crack up all hysterically just at the thought of a penis, something I’ve only seen in pictures.

“Shush!” Kiara puts a finger on my lips. “We don’t want that Ren and his buddies to find us.” I slow down to a giggle and then I start having hiccups. I slap a hand over my mouth. I really don’t want any of them to find us.

I move my head until our noses touch.

“You have such pretty skin … (hic)”

“I know,” she lispers. We might have overdone it a little. This would be our second time. In Europe, the age limit for consuming alcohol is only 18 … so naturally we went to clubs and pubs … and one time got rather smashed with some girls from Russia.

“Kiara I think I’m drunk …” Is it just me or does my voice sound louder than usual? Kiara starts giggling and spits out some of the Kahlua-induced ice cream. She wipes her mouth with her sleeve.

“Me too,” Kiara says, “It must be something in the air.” She swirls a finger around our heads like a broken helicopter. She’s clever my friend. But she’s wrong.

“I think it’s the ice cream.” She stares into the tub for a bit.

“This doesn’t look very healthy.”

The door opens, Logan straddle-falls in and lands distorted on the sofa. He looks wasted. Or half dead. He burbs and points a finger at me.

“Hey … (hic) … Sis, I … (hic) love you, baby,” he hiccups out a laugh and I swear his eyes are skewed. He points at Kiara. “And I love you (hic) too, Cuz.”

“Ha … ha …” Kiara titters. “See it is the air. He didn’t have ice cream.” She spreads out her arms, wide to the side, and hits me on my nose. I start laughing again thinking she must be right.

Damion fills the doorway and leans against the frame. He looks big and bad and mean and sexy.

Kiara giggles some more and points a finger at Damion, “We were just talking about you!”

“Yeah … you have shitty taste in love, dude.” I think I lost my mind.

“What she said,” Kiara is still pointing at him.

Damion closes the door and locks it. He’s smiling like that purple cat from Wonderland.

Logan bolts up and starts to gag, holding his hand over his mouth.

“Don’t puke in my room!” But Damion is already carrying him into my bathroom.

“Let’s go, bro.” I hear him say and then the water starts running. I jump from the bed, stumble a little to regain my balance, and then walk slowly towards the bathroom door. I peek around it.

“Why are you getting married to that bitch?” I ask, a small voice inside me saying that drunk blabbering is never a good idea. But a louder voice pushes me to have my say.

“Who?” he asks with that low, raspy, smooth voice. He puts my brother into the shower. Logan is now dressed in only his underwear. Damion has removed his shirt and is left in his jeans. Oh hell. I think I lost my tongue.

“Chloe?” I blink. How does he know? I stare at that sculpted chest.

“Yeah.” My voice sounds hoarse. “You should not.”

“Okay, I won’t. I promise,” he giggles. Does he find this funny?

“Tell him about D,” Kiara shouts from the bed, hugging a pillow. Yeah. I’m getting to that. I hold up my finger and then point it at him. He shuts the water and lifts Logan into the empty bath.

“Damion.”

“That’s me.” He has such a nice smile. The best.

“That’s not right,” I now point at the bath, “You should put water in there … and bubbles … lots of bubbles.”

“He’s a guy. And guys don’t do bubbles,” he explains calmly. That makes sense. You learn something new each day.

He gets up and leads me back to the bed. I let him. I slide a finger over his ribs.

“You were going to tell me about D. Who’s D?” Dammit. I forgot about that.

“Yes.” He bends down and covers me with the quilt. I push my nose into his throat and wheeze in his scent.

“You smell so good … (hic) … ” The little hiccup was not planned. Neither was the sniffing. It’s so embarrassing.

“D sent you a message,” Kiara reminds me.

“Yes. That!” I point at my friend with a big smile. “D is my new stalker, and I think maybe it’s you. Because YOU … " I poke him in the chest with my finger, “You, Damion Grimm is my curse! And … and … (hic) … " Dammit. He frowns so prettily. Like a little boy. But he’s not a little boy.

“You’re a dick … a big big dick.”

“Huge.” Kiara helps out from the side.

“Not that you have a big dick …” I take over again. “Maybe you have because … because I would not know how big is a big dick …” Am I slurring my words. I look at Kiara to help a sister out.

“She hasn’t seen any dicks,” Kiara spills. I’m not sure that’s what I needed help with, but then again, maybe it is.

“Yes. Zilch … zero … not even one.” Wait. Not a good idea to point that out.

“That’s sad … so sad,” Kiara whimpers and closes her eyes.

“Forget the dicks. It’s not about dicks. It’s about … you … make my hypo … eh … hypopotamus confused and then it makes too many hormones … and all I can think about is …” I wiggle my finger for him to come closer and he does. “Sex,” I whisper in his face.

He lets out a soft choked laugh and I forget what I was about to say next. I look into his face. It’s a gorgeous face, truly, with those hypnotic apple eyes, and that scar on his left temple. My eyes move to his mouth. That stupid bloody mouth with its crooked smile and single dimple. I lick my lips.

“I think you should try to sleep,” his voice is hoarse.

“Will you sleep with me?” He hesitates. Then he takes a deep breath. Dammit, I’m pleading. I should not beg him. I should chase him away.

I open my mouth but he lets out a “Shush.” and pulls me against his chest. I’m a mess, but for some reason, I’m a happy mess.