Madman’s Method: Madman Duet Book One

by Mason, V. F.

  What harm can a single kiss bring?

  Lacing my fingers in his dark locks, I lift his head back to me and place my lips on him, needing to experience it one more time. He probes his tongue deep, more fiercely this time, sending electricity through me that awakens every hair on my body.

  All while thunder echoes in the evening, announcing the upcoming doom.

  That day an ice princess kissed a sinner and everything changed.

  Because one single kiss made me a sinner and him the devil... a connection no one would be able to break.

  A connection that will become our curse.

  Cassandra

  Pressing my glass of water to my cheek, I study the pictures in frames scattered around the wall in the hallway of Patricia’s house showing a group of kids in different stages of life.

  One is during a Halloween celebration, holding baskets full of candy for the photographer to see as they give him a toothless smile.

  In others, they wear nice dresses and suits during one of their birthdays, if the huge cake in the middle is any indication.

  And finally, the last one that snags my attention is of seven kids throwing their graduation hats up with diplomas in their hands, careless grins plastered on their faces.

  Constant happiness that nothing can break.

  Leather shoes thump on the floor when a man stops next to me, his scent instantly sending revulsion through me, but I cover it up with another sip as he speaks. “God, I can’t believe Pat kept all those pictures.” Ethan runs his fingers through his hair. “I look like an idiot in most of them.”

  I snort at that, slapping his arm gently, and his gaze comes back to me, appreciation shining in them when he slides his eyes down my form. “Hey. You guys are cute.”

  “Right, cute. And you are so nice.” From the corner of my eye, I see Cole frowning while studying us, still deep in conversation with Karen about the latest artistic trend he used in his paintings.

  After the awkward conversation during lunch, Ralph quickly changed the topic to the latest sports achievement and gradually everyone picked it up, talking loudly about the upcoming season this fall and how they should invest more in the football team.

  Although Patricia occasionally jumped into the discussion, she mostly stayed silent and ignored me. She sent glares Eudard’s way, who didn’t give a shit about her it seemed, since his whole attention belonged to me.

  Just like old times.

  Finally, she announced to everyone that dessert would be ready soon, and so everyone decided to stretch their legs, walking over the property or taking a smoke break.

  Hooking my hair behind my ear, I give Cole the perfect view of my profile, because I know his artist’s nature won’t be able to resist staring at it, and I continue my conversation. “So you’ve been best friends with Ralph and Patricia? I thought you just moved here when you were seventeen.” I want to applaud myself for the genuine confusion lacing my tone, and he chokes on his wine, panic crossing his face before he finds his voice again.

  “That statement was not really accurate. My parents are divorced, so I’d been hopping around from here to my mom’s town. But I fully moved here after my senior year.”

  “No college?”

  He takes a large sip before shaking his head. “No. It didn’t work out.” How strange. Back in high school, Ethan was the cocky one dreaming about his football career and getting his business degree so he could take care of their factories.

  What changed?

  Even though through the years I’ve gotten reports on them all—from their stock value to their favorite chocolate brand—some internal thoughts behind their life choices have stayed a mystery to me.

  And oddly enough in this moment, I understand I’m curious about what they are, not that it will ever change anything.

  Their punishment will be the same, but everyone deserves their last confession, right?

  Even if they don’t know about it.

  “I’m sorry, any specific reason?”

  He shifts uncomfortably and then shakes his shoulders. “I got hurt right before college, so my scholarship didn’t work out, and then my dad’s company went bankrupt.” My brows shoot up at this information, because I had no idea those two followed each other so closely. Right at the time of his admission? “So I had no means to enter college. Dad had to move out, so he now lives like an outcast. I tried many times through the years, but there was always some weird shit happening with my applications.”

  It sounds like someone almost conspired to make his life miserable.

  If only I knew who that person was. I’d send flowers and gifts.

  “But you still managed to open your own company,” I say reassuringly, patting his arm gently as if trying to give my support.

  The corner of his mouth twitches at this. “Yeah, thanks to Eudard. He found me at the bottom a few years ago. I drank so much from the injustice done to me I almost crashed my car into a tree.” I pause at this, my pulse speeding up at Eudard’s name on Ethan’s lips. “He paid my hospital bill and gave me a loan to open up a company here.” He chuckles, placing his glass on the passing maid’s tray. “He told me the time for me to die hadn’t come yet.”

  Mustering up a smile at this, I turn my attention back to the frames while hectic emotions rush through me, one after another, along with confusion.

  And gratefulness to Eudard for saving Ethan from death all these years ago; otherwise, I wouldn’t know the satisfaction of punishing him myself.

  But at the same time, the betrayal from the boy who was my first and my only salvation in the dark because he helped out a monster like Ethan.

  Does it mean he didn’t believe me either?

  I'd never given him the chance to express his opinion on the matter back then.

  And why does my heart beat so rapidly in my chest knowing he’s close, when it stayed dead for years?

  “Founding Five Kids,” I read the inscription engraved under the Halloween picture and send a questioning glance toward Ethan. “What does it mean?”

  Before he can reply, Cole is by our sides and explains to me instead. “Our town was founded in the middle of the Civil War. Five families came here for shelter and decided to settle down. They loved the nature, the peacefulness of this land, and the ocean was close by. They called it a paradise on the edge of the world where the sun shines brightly.”

  “Oh” is my only reaction, but it’s encouraging enough for Ethan to continue right after Cole. “They built the first houses here, founded the rules, and stuff like that. Slowly, people started to come here and stay as they were passing by, or they simply wanted to run away from the war.”

  “Why? War didn’t touch this land?”

  Cole smiled sadly. “No, it did. But we had a church and other shit that made it bearable for people. Thankfully, it was almost the end, and in 1865, we officially got on the map,” he says proudly, and part of me shares his sentiment, because I do love this town.

  Even if it bred a lot of ugly people.

  “Founding five,” I murmur and then point at the picture. “But there’s seven of you there.”

  “I think I can answer that” comes from my left, and I find Ralph stepping into the circle forming around me. He rests his arm on the wall, a teacup in his hand. “The original families who founded this land were the Campbells, Browns, Mitchells, Whitleys, and Floreses.”

  Slapping my forehead, I laugh a little. “Oh, these are the Campbell twins.” I wiggle my finger between two boys who wear pirate costumes, holding high the black flag with a skeleton on it. “But it still leaves one name in the air.”

  “That’s because Ethan here”—Ralph lifts his chin in the direction of his friend—“is my cousin. So the founding five didn’t add another name, since they belonged to one family. But he is still part of us.” Warmth fills his voice as he winks at his best friend, and Ethan just gives him a cocky grin.

  I can’t argue with that; through the years, Ralph showed no
thing but love for Ethan despite his less-than-ideal parents who mostly used their fortune on shit while doing nothing. Out of all the founding five, Ethan’s father was the only one who drank too much and liked to beat him wherever he felt like it.

  Not giving a shit who saw him, he once used his belt on Ethan right near the end of the game when Ethan didn’t manage to score the winning goal, consequently losing to the nearby town’s team.

  It took Eudard’s and Ralph’s fathers to get him off his son, but by the time they helped, Ethan was already bruised to the point of not being able to play.

  I remember how I wanted to run and help him.

  And part of me still feels bad for the boy he used to be who came to school hungry because his dad loved to punish him by starving him, but that part is quickly shut down by a different voice that pops memories in my head, showing me what this poor boy is capable of.

  “Well, that explains a lot. So you guys are the elite,” I tease them, and a collective laugh erupts, with Cole frowning in displeasure, clearly not liking that he is left out of this.

  I lean closer to him and whisper loudly, “And you are the local artist along with the aristocrats?” Immediately, his tension eases and he snorts, adjusting his collar. “The one and only.”

  “It’s amazing that you all stayed friends through the years.”

  “Perks of a small town. We are a tight unit that nothing can break. Those who try usually don’t like the outcome.” Patricia wraps her hand around Ralph’s middle, who straightens to accommodate her, and I wonder when he became her dog on a leash.

  Or had what they did on that night bonded them so much they fell madly in love?

  I have no time to comment on that as two little kids squeal in the background and I have a second to brace myself before they bump into me, each one grabbing a knee. Their identical eyes look at me curiously while their pink chiffon dresses puff out around them. “Hi!” they say in unison, giving me their toothless smiles, and then once again in unison, “You’re pretty. Who are you?” Then giggling to each other, they rush off to Patricia and Ralph, who scoop them up in their arms, and the girls hold on tightly to their necks, giving them smooches on the cheek.

  And through it all, I watch with shock when Patricia’s face softens and she gently pats their heads with love evident in her every move, and by the way her girls lean into her touch, it’s clear they know it.

  Twins.

  They have kids?

  I freeze, rushing mentally through all the reports I got through the years. Not one of them mentioned children. I found it strange, but given how much Patricia craved power, I shrugged it off as her desire to wait until she had absolute reign.

  Why was this hidden from the reports? Did Arson do it intentionally?

  I thought about the guy who became one of my close friends, although he’d probably glare at that tag. I wonder why he would do that.

  But Lachlan’s words echo again.

  Revenge has no place for emotions.

  How can I not feel them though when these two children will be affected by my vengeance? “These are our daughters, Katy and Kira.” Patricia beams. “They’re five. I’m sorry if they startled you.”

  “No, that’s okay,” I reply and then clear my throat, “I need to go to the ladies’ room.”

  “Sure, it’s at the end of the hallway on the left.” Without paying attention to anyone, I rush to it and close the door behind me, breathing heavily.

  Turning on the cold water, I gulp it from my palm before splashing some on my face, hoping that the cool liquid will calm down the fire slowly burning in my veins.

  Switching it off, I lean on the sink and gulp for breath while familiar panic swirls in the pit in my stomach. I count to fifteen and then twenty until my heartbeat becomes normal and the cloudy haze vanishes from my mind.

  Raising my eyes to my reflection in the mirror, I see the perfection of my beauty that has been nothing but a means to an end all this time.

  But I never meant to use it to destroy innocent lives, and those children will be collateral damage in this story.

  Fishing out a phone from my bag, I dial the number with trembling hands while I hear voices in the distance announcing it’s dessert time.

  The man on the other end of the line picks up on the third ring and barks, “What?” Rock music accompanies it, so he must be in his torture room.

  “Kids? They have kids?” I hiss, and silence greets my question, not that I expect much of a reply.

  After all, they can do whatever the hell they want; they’ve made it clear through the years. “Why does it matter?”

  Disbelief is written all over my features as I’m flabbergasted with his reply. “It changes—”

  “What? The past? Just because they have kids, it erases all the sins? How funny.” Arson hums a little to the music, and then I hear a scream of pain echoing in the background while someone pleads for mercy. “Sorry, got distracted. Kids change nothing, so including them in the report seemed pointless.”

  “They will be hurt and…”

  “And?” he probes, and I hate how emotionless his voice stays, as if it doesn’t matter what will happen to them.

  He is cold and detached, those words I always associate with him, but shouldn’t this at least move him? He might be a monster, but he is not that kind of monster! “It’s not right.”

  “I thought we settled a long time ago that life is not fair.” Before I can add anything, he says, “Look, I have no time for this. If you don’t want to continue with the revenge, something Lachlan and I advised from the beginning since you are not cut out for it, leave. Otherwise, deal with this, because those are the consequences of everyone’s decisions.”

  “Arson—”

  “Cassandra, there is no other choice. Make up your mind and keep your fucking emotions at bay. Otherwise, you will drown, darling.” He hangs up on me while I’m left staring at the phone.

  Clearly, hoping for his angelic captive to change him a little was useless.

  At the end of it all though, he is right.

  Children or not, it doesn’t change the past, and I have to accept that.

  Tugging on my dress, I raise my chin high in the reflection and announce to myself, “My name is Cassandra Scott, and I don’t have a heart.” And for a second, I think I see the flicker of Arianna Griffin behind my lenses, who is horrified with my actions and urges me to run away from this town that brought me so much grief.

  But how can I?

  Taking a deep breath, I twist the knob and step outside, only to bump into a wide chest and almost fall back on my ass. But strong, muscled hands pull me flush against him, and a hot flash instantly spreads through me.

  The arms lock so tightly around me I have no wiggle room to lean back, startled only to collide with emerald green eyes that stay completely blank under my gaze. “It’s my destiny to save you,” he says, washing me with the mesmerizing timbre of his voice that brings so many memories, along with the recognition my body despises. “From falls,” he adds after a pause, fanning me with his breath. The rattling of silverware in the distance snaps me out of my stupor.

  Oh my God, why do my body and mind become so stupid around him? It’s like he has the ability to cast a spell on me and then pull the invisible strings around me in any way he wishes.

  No man has this effect on me, and the fact that he still does after everything that has happened… scares me so much I need to run.

  But running is a weakness I can never show in his presence, because he’ll eat me alive just like he does with all his business opponents. I’ve seen enough footage to attest to that.

  It’s ironic really, considering how much he rebelled back in high school and never followed any rules placed upon him by his father.

  “Two times is hardly destiny,” I curtly reply, glancing down to his arm and hinting to let me go.

  Instead though, I yelp when he spins us and presses me against the wall in the otherwise empty hal
lway.

  Not a soul in freaking sight!

  “What are you doing?” I whisper, steel lacing my tone, and I push at his chest, but it’s like pushing granite, because he stays immovable. “Let me go.”

  He doesn’t listen and puts his arm above me, resting his elbow on the wall and looming over me, holding me in the cage of his creation with no way out.

  I wait for the familiar panic to shoot through me, bringing back all the voices from the past whenever someone closes in on me, but none come.

  As if Eudard’s presence soothes my nightmares instead of agitating them.

  He doesn’t give me time to study my reaction though, because he murmurs, “I want to make some things clear.” My eyes focus on his chest, on the V of his shirt that opens up on the Celtic tattoos that tangle in the shape of a letter, but I can’t guess which one since the shirt is hiding the rest of it.

  Unfamiliar desire to pull at the lapels and trace my fingers over his skin travels through me, and I gulp breath, hoping to ease it.

  What the hell is going on with me? I can’t be one of those females who loses her head in the presence of male perfection.

  The man is so handsome he could seduce anyone he wishes; the devil himself must have given him his beauty so he could trap all the hopeless souls.

  Like all the willing women that probably grace his bed constantly. That must be why he hasn’t settled down yet.

  The simmering rage returns that once again has no freaking explanation, because who the hell cares who he sleeps with? It’s none of my business.

  But for a moment in time, this body belonged to me, and I can’t help the surge of possessiveness zipping through me at the idea of anyone touching it.

  Oh, God, so much for heartless revenge. Any minute now, I’ll become a slave to my body’s desire, which is more confusing than the surge of jealousy. “What exactly?” I grit through my teeth and push at his chest again, but still without result.

  He leans closer, his lips a few inches away from mine, and his hands tangle in my hair, arching my neck. I gasp in shock. “What the hell are you doing?”

  But he ignores it. With steel lacing his every word while the pulse on his neck beats wildly, he holds my gaze and says, “Other men can look at my phoenix, but no one is allowed to touch.”