Madman’s Method: Madman Duet Book One

by Mason, V. F.

  I snort into the glass, shaking my head. “No, they are free and something I did for kids who can’t afford to attend classes. But I no longer do that.”

  “So strange that you moved here of all places after such a career.” Frank speaks up from his place opposite me, drilling me with his stare and sipping his wine while an unreadable expression crosses his face.

  “I couldn’t stay home after what happened. So I thought a change of scenery would do me good. I took a map out, blindly pointed, and ended up here.”

  The woman squeals in excitement. “I can’t imagine doing something so adventurous. My name is Karen, by the way. I’m the owner of the bakery downtown.” My brows shoot up at this, because if she is just a bakery owner, why does Patricia allow her presence here?

  But when I subtly study her husband who has a golden watch gracing his wrist and a designer suit, I see the power oozing that is only attached to a man who has a higher position in a company, if not the owner of it. “My husband, Rey, works with Ralph in his company. He is the vice president.” There is so much love and pride in her voice when she gazes at her husband that I pause… studying her as I feel a weird clench in my heart and… regret?

  Because I’ll never know what it’s like to live a normal life with a man I love.

  That dream is forever lost to me.

  “That’s nice.”

  “Wait.” Ralph leans forward on the table, rubbing his palms together. “Are you the one who bought the dance studio from Allison?”

  Grinning shyly, I cock my head to the side. “Guilty.”

  Karen’s jaw drops open. “Oh my God, that’s so nice. I’ve always dreamed about—”

  “I wanted to buy that place,” Patricia interrupts Karen, who shuts up quickly, fear flashing in her eyes when tension settles over the table. “But Allison sold it so quickly, claiming she got an offer she couldn’t refuse.” The kid was so eager to hightail out of this town she didn’t care about upsetting the queen, so of course she gave it to me.

  I offered triple the price she wanted.

  “I didn’t plan on acquiring a studio here, but when I saw a flyer with the for-sale sign, I felt like the universe was giving me a hint that I chose right.”

  “We don’t dance here. I think a gym would have been good for that particular spot. It’s right in the middle of town and doesn’t require a long drive from offices or schools.” Even though her voice stays sugary sweet, I don’t miss how she bites at me with each word.

  Nor do the people who shift uncomfortably, sharing looks between them, as probably no one likes putting Patricia in a sour mood.

  Ah, yes, a gym. Her big plans that I’ve crushed.

  One of many to come. “Doesn’t someone already own a gym in town? I think her name is Meghan Varo?” I tap on my chin, frowning. “I’m not sure. So having another gym would have been like creating competition for her.” That’s the way of small towns; usually there is only one business in town that is transferred from generation to generation. The loyalty of townsfolk is so strong the new business is set for failure.

  Patricia shoots a glare at Ralph who coughs into his fist; clearly she still hasn’t forgotten who he invited to homecoming. “That’s right, but her equipment is outdated. Plus, her place requires renovations and the walls reek of sweat. Any day now, it will crumble.” Well that might have been true and fueled Patricia’s desire to finally crush Meghan after all the debts her ex left in the wake of their divorce, but no such luck.

  People will have to go to her gym still while I build my school. “Well, I think this town needs a dance studio. For the kids to learn the beauty of it and maybe to seek a professional career and for adults who just want to unwind.” I pause and then add, “That’s actually what I wanted to talk with you about. Since you are on the town committee, could you maybe arrange for everyone to know it’s opening soon?”

  My cheerfulness is not met warmly. Patricia grabs her knife and fork, scratching it loudly on her china when she slices her chicken, ignoring my request. Everyone follows suit, returning to their food with laughter and conversations slowly picking up again, while I count in my head how long it will take her to retaliate for me having the last word on the matter.

  I’ve just become an enemy she desperately wants to destroy, so her reign will be absolute.

  Three, two, one.

  “What a strange name you have.” Patricia’s voice slices through the laughter around the table, like a sharp needle bursting a bubble. “Cassandra.” She drags out my name as if tasting it, but it sounds more like she chews on it then spits it out. “It’s Greek, isn’t it?”

  Several heads swing toward me as my fork pauses midway to my mouth and I plaster a smile on my face, half turning to her, feeling everyone’s gazes on me as I rest my chin on the back of my hand. “That’s correct, although the original Greek version was spelled with a K.” Her lips curl a little before she hides it with another fake grin, showcasing all thirty-two white teeth, and I smirk inwardly.

  If there is one thing Patricia hates… it’s being told she is wrong about something. I call it A-student syndrome.

  Or she is simply a bitch, and in her case it’s probably both.

  “Still, is there a story why your parents chose this name for you?” she probes again, and her husband pales a little, placing his hand on hers and squeezing hard, if her sudden wince is anything to go by.

  “Honey, that’s highly inappropriate.” Yeah, God forbid people know Ralph’s wife questions someone on their name. The founding five might be powerful, but the future sheriff doesn’t need any scrutiny.

  He sends me an apologetic look. “You have a beautiful name, and it suits you.”

  Patricia snatches her hand from under his, almost shaking with anger while I ignore the statement.

  Ralph Brown is all about the chase, so giving in easily to his protection that he only showcased to earn points with me is not an option.

  I open my mouth to reply, but a deep and husky voice behind me freezes me on the spot, washing over me like a snake gliding up around the throat of its prey. “The meaning of the name is connected with an old myth,” Eudard says, stepping into the dining room. His dominant energy charges the air, acting like an invisible chain around us all.

  Ten years and nothing has changed about it, which confuses me to no end, because if every other male is dead to me… why does he stay the exception?

  Several women around the table gasp as they run their appreciative gazes over his masculine beauty that his suit, sitting perfectly on his wide shoulders, only emphasizes.

  Men start to stand up to greet him, but he points at them to stay seated.

  “Kassandra was the daughter of Priam and Hecuba. He was the king of Troy,” Eudard says. One of the staff pulls out a chair for him at the other end of the table where he drops casually, picking up a napkin and waving the man off. “Apollo wanted her for himself, but he wasn’t like all the other gods. He tried to woo her.” He takes a large sip from his water glass, swallowing loudly, and for some freaking reason I focus on his Adam’s apple bobbing. “He wanted her willing, so she would enjoy his advances.”

  “How fascinating,” Karen says enthusiastically, and my brow rises.

  Too enthusiastically.

  But then I imagine no one ever wants to be on the receiving end of Eudard’s attention when his intentions are not clear.

  I know he usually doesn’t dine with the founding five, which pisses off Patricia immensely.

  Everyone’s heads jump between us, back and forth, anticipating my reaction to this. “That’s correct. She was the princess of Troy, so to speak.”

  Eudard chuckles, tracing the rim of the glass. “They treated her like shit though.”

  “Why? A little more details wouldn’t hurt you,” Cole whines, wiping his mouth with the napkin. “Wait. Kassandra.” He clicks his fingers a few times as if trying to remember something and then points at me. “Right! Apollo gifted her the ability to see the
future, and she promised him that she’d be his.”

  “But she lied, and once she got her gift, she refused to be his,” Frank says, adjusting the glasses on his nose. “I think we studied it when our history teacher was obsessed with the whole Troy thing.” Frank might have been a jock in high school with no regard to rules, but he sure studied well. Besides football, which he joined only because his best friends did, he was also in the science club, loving to host experiments in the chemistry lab. He never abused his power.

  Not in his studies at least.

  “What the fuck ever. It’s not like she is gonna talk about it. And besides, who cares?” Frank asks, lighting up another joint and chuckling. “It’s the best night of my life, I’m telling you.”

  “It’s called Iliad by Homer, Frank.” Patricia grits her teeth and then focuses back on me. “So you were named after a woman who deceived one of the Greek gods?”

  Eudard tsks, flipping the knife between his fingers. “Oh, no. You see, Apollo wanted to take his gift back, but it was impossible. So instead, he cursed her. She would see the future, but no one would believe her prophecies.” His intense green eyes drill into me as he continues, all while my heart beats wildly in my chest, but I keep the polite smile intact, not allowing anyone to see my turmoil. Least of all the devil himself. “She warned about Paris destroying Troy by choosing Helen as his woman. The Trojan horse deceit. Even that it would take Odysseus ten years to get back home. But as we all know the story, no one listened to the princess and the town got burned down with the Greeks winning the ten-year war.”

  “So to answer your question,” I address Patricia, “I was named after a woman who tried to warn of awful things to come, but no one believed her. Thankfully, it rarely happens in real life.” This time, the silence that follows my words is almost deafening.

  Ralph pales a little, his eyes darting toward Patricia who shifts uncomfortably, and for a second, the controlled mask slips from her face and there is confusion and… guilt?

  Ah, it’s too late for that.

  An outcast.

  Popular girl.

  Football jocks.

  Science guy.

  An artist.

  A saint.

  Each one of them will pay the price earned for their actions by the time I’m done with them.

  My gaze comes back to Eudard, who toasts his glass to me, and I nod at him, taking another bite of chicken.

  Even if I have to fight the bad boy of the town to accomplish it.

  Madman

  Her face is like a porcelain mask of calmness and serenity as her beauty shines among all the people here.

  Each gesture she makes, every breath she takes is like a work of art I can gaze at for hours and not get bored.

  As she eats lunch, she licks her plump, full lips, and I resist the urge to fist her hair, drag her to me, and feast on her mouth until she has no doubt who she belongs to.

  But then she lifts her chin at me, and even though she still has that fucked-up smile that doesn’t reach her eyes and makes me want to bite her lips so she’ll lose it, she is announcing to me that she intends to win this war.

  My little confused phoenix who thinks she is invincible just because she came back.

  She doesn’t know the lengths I went to in order to ensure her safety and ability to live her life.

  Game on.

  She just has to pick the first victim.

  Chapter Nine

  “Our bodies are like temples. Don’t allow anyone you don’t want inside your temple or they will ruin everything you believe in.”

  Grandmother’s advice always heated up my cheeks, especially during my teenage years when I had no such thoughts.

  But she was right.

  My body was a temple that I cherished very much and shared with one person.

  But it got ruined when unwanted guests came to it, smashed my temple to the ground, and destroyed it all while watching in amusement as it burned to ash.

  From the memories of Arianna Griffin…

  Wiping my tears with the back of my hand, I reply quietly to his jab with all the self-respect I can muster in the current situation. “I’m not in the mood for your cruel words, Eudard.” I hate how my voice trembles while sobs still shake my body, but quietly this time and I don’t allow them to spill.

  It’s enough one of the twins hurt me; I don’t want to give satisfaction to the other.

  He shrugs, tapping his foot against the wall before he pushes forward, the ash of his cigarette peppering the porch and leaving a gray smear behind. Not that he cares about it, judging by how he steps over it. “It’s a valid observation in light of your crush.” Does everyone know about my crush on his brother? Was I so obvious all this time?

  He chuckles, puffing smoke around us while he comes closer, and I realize I’ve asked the question out loud. “I don’t know about everyone. But it’s pretty clear to me, considering you’ve been trailing after us all your childhood and then some.” He stops by the opening of the porch where it leads to the stairs, almost next to me as I’m still glued to the railing. “Pathetic if you ask me, because he will dedicate his life to God.”

  What?

  I blink in surprise, momentarily stopping my sobs, trying to digest this information.

  It all makes sense given how much time he always spends at church either helping Pastor Joseph with the foster kids, singing in choir, or hanging out with people there. Plus lately, whenever anyone asks him about his plans for the future, he stays quiet and never fills out any student applications, according to Pat, who has eyes on all the students, wanting to know who plans to go where.

  Just making sure she will go to a better university than them, of course.

  How come I never connected all the dots before?

  Does he want to be a pastor or a… priest?

  Eudard looks over his shoulder. “Well, that was the plan, but”—oh God, I’ve asked it out loud again—“not sure what to make of that kiss. Maybe he wants to taste the pleasures of the flesh before giving his spirit away.” His tone stays even, but there seems to be so much hidden meaning in every word that’s coated in hatred and distaste.

  Whatever his twin’s decision is, shouldn’t he be supportive? “He is your twin. The least you can do is accept his choices.” The words spill from my mouth before I can stop them, and his eyes widen in disbelief before his lips thin and he jumps to the bottom stair.

  “Unbelievable. You are still protecting him even though he just kissed your best friend.” He clucks. “Careful, baby. Someone might call you a doormat.” With that, he walks off to his bike parked almost at the end of the driveway, his boots thumping loudly on the concrete path.

  His dismissal along with his brother’s rejection stinks, because we grew up together. From first steps to first day at school, we were all joined at the hip until both of them stopped behaving normally.

  I lost two of my best friends at once and accepted the friendship Patricia offered me, since she knew the twins had me under their wings of protection.

  Eachann withdrew into himself, blocking out everyone with those stupid headphones of his and the church, while Eudard sneered in my direction, hating everyone and everything. He was considered difficult at best, and everyone counted the days for him to graduate.

  Until that fight on the football field.

  My brows furrow when I think back; the timing matches with their mom suddenly disappearing on them, and after that, Ridge Campbell only showed his face with Eachann, who dutifully accompanied him to all important functions, leaving Eudard behind.

  Mom once told me that she hoped he would be able to put his past behind him, whatever that meant. Since all this happened when we were around seven years old, I’m not familiar with the details of what was going on back then.

  Is that why he is so bitter?

  With a foreign-to-me impulse, I rush down the stairs and catch up with him midway, snagging his shoulder. I turn him toward me and the action mak
es the cigarette drop from his mouth while his green pools flare in surprise. “What are you doing, ice princess?”

  I hate this nickname, but that’s not what I want from him. “Why are you so mean to me all the time?” He freezes, his jaw ticking while something crosses his face, but it’s gone so quickly I don’t have time to catch it. “Ever since we started school, you’ve changed, and I’ve been your number one enemy. Ignoring me, throwing rude comments about ice-skating, and everything else.” I shout the last part, crossing my arms. “What did I do to deserve your never-ending cruelty?” I wipe away the tears sliding down my cheek. “We used to be friends, but you’re nicer to Patricia than to me.” Before our relationship went down in flames, he never stayed much in her company, and whenever she started chatting his ear off, he would walk off in a different direction.

  He snatches his arms away from me, his jacket blowing in the air as a thunderous expression settles on his face, which on most days would have made me back off, but in this moment, I’m staying glued to the spot. “Mean to you?” he barks, pulling me toward him with his hands threading in my hair. “Who the fuck was there to take you to the hospital when you broke your knee? Who attended every ice-skating tournament when you didn’t even bother to come to my games unless Patricia wanted to?” He fires these things at me, and I’m too stunned to even reply or dwell on his arms locking me in his embrace, surrounding me with everything that is him. “Who stopped Dorothy from making fun of your secondhand bag? And who the fuck was there when you cried on the sidewalk, because said bag got cut and all your books dropped into a rain puddle, ruining them?” He pushes me away and I stumble a little, watching a different spectrum of emotions flash on his face, giving me a glimpse into the passionate boy he used to be. “Sure as fuck not Eachann.” Then he points his index finger at me, and I glance at it while he grits his teeth. “Do you even know the lengths I went to for you?”

  What does he mean by that?

  He wants to spin around again, but I fist his shirt, holding his stare, and something unexplainable travels between us like a magnet that sees its opposite and wants to move as close to it as possible, sticking together.