Madman’s Method: Madman Duet Book One

Home > Other > Madman’s Method: Madman Duet Book One > Page 27
Madman’s Method: Madman Duet Book One Page 27

by Mason, V. F.


  Is he another doctor?

  But wait… wasn’t I out of the hospital? My parents brought me home. Was I up for another checkup where they injected me with heavy meds because I was acting up?

  It usually happened after my hysterics when I woke up feeling Frank’s knife slash my wrist or how Ralph raped me on that ground.

  “My name is Callum,” he replies, and then his focus shifts to his right and I trail after it only to see two more men standing by the end of the bed I’m lying in.

  First, I focus on the one with blond hair and striking, cold, blue eyes that seem to hold so many secrets no one will ever be able to crack. He is wearing a three-piece suit that only emphasizes the aura of danger and power around him. Even Ridge Campbell didn’t possess such a vibe. I have no doubt no one ever questions him on anything, and whenever he orders, it’s done right away.

  Then I look at the man with blue hair and gray eyes who has curiosity written all over him, with his wide shoulders stretching his T-shirt. Even though he doesn’t have the same vibe as the blond man, there is something unsettling about him as he cocks his head to the side, studying me.

  Who are these men?

  But then the gray-haired guy takes out a lighter, flipping it between his fingers almost unconsciously, and flicks it on with this thumb, the fire burning brightly, and that’s when the memories punch me in my stomach, creating a vacuum of panic, fear, and anger.

  “No, no. My parents!” I scream, but it comes out muffled as if blocked, and that’s when Callum curses, hitting the wall near me, and the ringing in the room starts as if he set off an alarm. “Where are my parents!” I shout, not caring about anything. I want to throw aside the blankets but then notice that my middle is strapped tightly to the bed by several ropes as if holding me still in a cast. “Let go of me!” Did the intruder come back?

  They want to keep me hostage until I comply with their orders?

  The screeching sound of the bell in the room rips right through my head, a headache slowly stretching all over my scalp, and I use another hand to touch it, wanting to rub it, only to discover that I have bandages on my head.

  Momentarily startled, I pat my chin, my forehead, and everywhere else, only to discover everything is bandaged except my eyes and lips along with my nose. “What did you do to me?” I shout again, thrashing on the bed, wanting to escape but failing.

  That’s when the blond one comes along, and Callum mutters, “She is losing it, Lachlan.” Is that his name?

  Lachlan leans over me, his eyes holding mine, and I freeze, awaiting his words. “It’s all right now, Arianna. No one will hurt you.” He waits a moment before adding, “I give you my word.”

  For the next ten years, this man becomes my salvation, the older brother I never knew I wanted. Along with his protégés, who are serial killers by night and ruthless people by day.

  They twist the word dark to another level, making their victims wish they were never born. And most interesting part about it? They have no remorse about their deeds.

  Yet I would trust them with my life.

  Because when Lachlan Scott gives you his word, be it a death warrant or protection, he keeps it.

  No one goes against his orders, no one who wants to live anyway.

  Unless that person is a madman.

  * * *

  “Ready?” Doctor Keith asks, and I nod eagerly, ready to get rid of the bandages. I’ve spent three weeks in them, because he had to perform one more operation to fix the burned skin on the underside of my chin.

  The fire, as they informed me, only nipped some of my skin before they got me out. I assume it was either Callum or Lachlan; my memory of that moment is still too hazy to know for sure. The only thing they told me was that my father used to be their friend, which I found odd, because Callum and Arson were slightly older than me while Lachlan had around ten years on me. They seemed too young to be friends with my dad, but I didn’t question their authority.

  They were there to help me then take care of me, and now promising me justice, I preferred not to ask useless questions.

  They also said I broke something in my chin from repetitively hitting it that night, and even a few teeth.

  The cast from my shoulder is gone; it was just dislocated, and my throat feels better, but the scar of the wire is still there. Doctor Keith promised to fix it soon, but first we needed to handle the face.

  Finally, he finishes unwrapping countless bandages and leans back, assessing his work, and I see his sigh of relief.

  He motions for the nurse to come closer, and she flips the mirror to face me, raising it high. I gasp at seeing my reflection in the mirror.

  The girl in there is beautiful with the right cheekbones, flawless skin, and an oval shape as if an artist sculpted her face. And that girl would have never reminded me of Arianna Griffin if it weren’t for my violet eyes that nothing masks.

  Even my red hair plays no factor in it, since they shaved it off for the surgery, and some of it was burned.

  Touching it with the tips of my fingers, I shake my head and tears form in my eyes with deep, profound loss rocking my body. I don’t know how to explain this, because I should be grateful for their surgeries. After all, the skin was in horrible condition and they did everything they could.

  But losing my face, it’s like losing my identity and my parents all over again, because I no longer resemble them.

  Pressing my fist against my chest, I exhale heavily and rasp through the bile in my throat. “Good job, Doc. Thank you.”

  Keith extends his hand to soothe me but snatches it back at the last minute, probably remembering what happens when men touch me.

  Usually, my skin feels like something is crawling over it, putting salt on the wound over and over again until various voices echo in my ears and take me back to that horrific night.

  So no one touches me, ever, except for female nurses, and surgeons when I’m unconscious.

  “It’s going to be all right, Arianna. You just wait and see.” I want to believe him, but in truth? Nothing will ever be all right.

  Not as long as the monsters who destroyed my life and killed my parents live happily. I have no illusions that the founding five parents organized the ambush on our house. Based on the news, they claimed Dad killed Mom because he lost his sanity due to what happened to me. Everyone assumed I died in the fire that he started before committing suicide. How did they even claim that without my remains there anyway?

  Those are questions, though, that no one wants to answer.

  I won’t rest until they endure the same misery they’ve subjected me to.

  * * *

  The music is blasting through the speakers as I breath heavily and jump back into fighting position, my boxing-gloved hands ready to strike.

  Arson slaps the boxing pads against each other harder and leans back a little bit as we stand opposite each other in the ring. “Hit it harder this time. And a kick,” he orders, and I move forward, punching the pads with all my might and then swiftly spinning around and kicking them for good measure.

  Arson barely moves, which doesn’t surprise me much. He is like a freaking rock! “Better. But your knee is still acting up. You need to do more physical therapy on it.” Another slap and he orders, “This time, deliver four hits with more power, one after another without stopping.”

  Even though my lungs protest against his order along with my sore muscles, I just nod and proceed to punch both pads quickly and then spin once again, but instead of a kick, I bounce back, falling on my knees as I lose my balance.

  Arson sighs and throws the pads outside the ring. “I told you, strength is here.” He points at his abdominal muscles. “Work on them; it will balance you out.”

  “I do. I work out every day.”

  He shrugs, dipping under the ropes and hopping out of the ring. “Work out harder, then. With this stamina and muscle, you won’t last a day in that dance college, let alone get a degree.” He grabs water from the small
fridge nearby and throws one to me.

  I catch it a second before it hits my face and huff in exasperation. “I’m doing my best.” His brow rises, and even I can admit I’m whining, but can’t he cut me some slack?

  Although the tiny, annoying voice in my head chooses this moment to speak out.

  You asked for this.

  How could I have not though, if vengeance fuels my blood every minute I breathe and my parents don’t?

  “Arson, please don’t give up on me.” The water bottle pauses midway to his mouth at this, and he frowns.

  Before he can reply though, the doors to the gym burst open and Lachlan comes in with Levi, his butler, hot on his heels.

  Putting the bottle between my neck and shoulder, I lean on the ropes while Arson comes closer and Lachlan joins us, his focus on me. “How is practice?”

  “Better,” I reply chipperly, and Arson snorts, almost choking on his drink, and I glare at him. “I mean, it’s only been five months since I got out of the hospital. My shoulder and knee act up, but I should be all ready by September.” Which is in another five months.

  It seems like a lot of time, but not when I have to be in good condition to get into one of the best dancing schools in the world. Lachlan could fabricate any kind of paperwork, but if I don’t show my skills on the stage, no one will accept me.

  “We can always postpone it for a year,” Levi offers, gifting me with a smile, and I return it, because the guy has protective grandpa written all over him. But I shake my head, keeping my eyes on Lachlan, since he makes all the decisions here. “I can’t lose one more year. I want to go back on my tenth anniversary.” Once they are all settled in their perfect lives, where they will have a lot to lose.

  I want my vengeance to cost them everything.

  Lachlan finally speaks up, picking up documents from the silver tray Levi is holding. “Are you absolutely set on the name?”

  Oh yes.

  I’ve studied Greek mythology, and it’s perfect.

  “Congratulations, then. You are officially Cassandra Scott.” He gave me his family name, and according to this paperwork, I’m his cousin. He has assured me that with his influence, my life will be easier.

  It’s not like I interact with him much either, and he told me I can have an apartment in the city and live a normal life. It’s almost surprising. I don’t know what they do, but based on some research I’ve done, I heard they have clubs and businesses.

  Billionaires by day and serial killers by night.

  Still though, I will always be grateful for his generosity.

  Lachlan’s voice drops a few octaves when he says, “But if you fail at any stage of this plan, I will summon you back, Cassandra.” A beat and then, “So train well, otherwise you’ll have to forget about revenge.”

  Squeezing my new passport and birth certificate in my hands, I vow to never give him reason to doubt me.

  I will go back to town a new person and take my revenge no matter the cost.

  Who knew back then that the cost would be so great?

  Cassandra

  Pulling into the parking lot of the spacious white building located on the outskirts of the town, I frown in confusion, because it seems oddly familiar.

  In a way, it reminds me of my old ice-skating building, but that place was so secluded and barely had any bushes around it. Where now the building has several add-ons, surrounded by a garden that showcases orchids and roses—at least, these are the flowers I’ve passed.

  “What is this place?” I get out of the car, my sneakers slapping against the concrete as the light breeze sneaks around the edges of my shorts. I see a grounds man cleaning up the leaves falling from the tree. “Hi. I’m looking for—”

  He doesn't let me finish though, but points inside the building. “Eudard is here.” My brows rise at this, but I step inside the building, noticing markers on the floor leading me farther and farther into the hallway.

  Smiling despite my annoyance, I follow, but with each step recognition settles in; I’ve spent so much time behind the walls of this place it feels like a second home.

  I halt my movements when the last marker points to light brown double doors leading to the ice rink, and panic slams into me, a light sweat breaking on my skin.

  Why did he bring me here?

  I haven't been close to ice for a decade, deciding to destroy my love for it quickly rather than prolonging my mourning by coming to it, watching people achieve things I’d never be able to.

  The happiness I felt just minutes ago on the way here disappears, leaving the desire to scream in frustration at this surprise, but I can’t do it.

  Won't he think something is wrong, then?

  And why would he bring a new woman to a place that used to be his first love’s domain? Doesn't Eudard have any consideration for my feelings?

  Taking a deep breath, I slam the doors open, and I’m instantly met with the frigid air and the smell of ice that I can almost taste on my tongue.

  People might say it doesn't smell, but for me, it has this bittersweet scent that fuels my blood and makes my legs itch to skate on it, to absorb its beauty.

  Not much has changed around here except that the seats and equipment seem newer in this huge stadium. They probably allow hockey practices here as well.

  But besides that…

  It’s still my ice rink.

  “Mommy, look! I did the jump. Have you seen it?”

  Mom grins, applauding soundly while my coach frowns at her, not liking that my attention is elsewhere while we still have ten minutes of practice. How can I not share this joy though?

  “I did, darling!”

  “Someday, I’m going to win a gold medal, Mommy! So you can be proud of me.”

  The lump in my throat grows, blocking oxygen from my lungs while my eyes water, but I forcefully push it away, breathing through my nose.

  But then I notice Eudard in the middle of the rink as he waves at me, remote in his hands, and I hop down the stairs, cocking my head to the side. “I have to say, I imagined something else when you mentioned a surprise.” My voice is thankfully steady as I slip my mask on, so he won’t see the turmoil inside me.

  “All in good time,” he tells me and then clicks the remote. Music slowly fills the space, and I recognize the first notes of one of my all-time favorite songs. I used to beg coach to let me practice the dramatic routines to it, and finally when I was fifteen, he relented.

  He skates effortlessly to the board, his moves graceful and sure, because we used to come to the rink a lot as kids.

  Although Eachann was scared shitless of it, preferring to stay in the seats and watch us.

  Eudard extends his hand to me, red ice skates dangling from it. “Join me?”

  My heart beats so fast in my chest I think he might hear it as he stands waiting for a reply. I hate the idea of getting back on the ice.

  Ironically, it’s my greatest fear, because the ice knows me like no one else… I won’t be able to wear my mask on it.

  It will demand Arianna, the girl it gave so much to.

  But as strong as my fear is, I can’t deny Eudard when there is softness in his gaze because he truly wants to give me something on it.

  Nodding, I take the skates from him with trembling hands and go to sit to put them on, but he grabs me by the ponytail and drags me to him, the board separating us.

  Lacing his fingers in my hair, he tips my head back and his lips fall on mine. I jerk from their coldness, but the heat traveling through me warms me up. He nips my lips, tugging on my lower lip harshly, and thrusts his tongue inside, kissing me passionately to the point of my toes curling in my shoes, my moan tangling with his groan.

  Palming his head, I deepen the kiss, bringing him closer and hating the barrier that separates us. I want to climb up on him and wrap my legs around him so he can extinguish the fire rising in me.

  He tilts my head back, our lips inches away from each other as we breathe heavily, and he murmurs, amu
sement coating his tone, “You are dangerous.”

  Widening my eyes in mock shock, I reply, “Who me? I’m innocent. You are the one who fished for a kiss when I came for these.” I shake the skates in my hand, and he laughs, spinning me toward the seat and slapping me on the ass.

  Outraged, I rub my cheek and shout, “Hey.”

  “That’s what you get for being a smart-ass.”

  “Brute,” I fire back, dropping to the seat and quickly putting on the skates. My fingers have done it so many times it’s effortless.

  Only when I get up on them, turning my feet to examine their shiny color, something dawns on me. “How do you know I can ice skate?”

  Eudard rests his elbows on the board, winking. “I know everything.”

  “Show off. It would have served you right if I didn’t.” Crossing my arms, I ask again, “But really, how do you know?”

  He shrugs. “It’s a simple guess. You are a dancer, which means you have good control of your body. It’s not a stretch to think you skate; plus, you come from a state that has snow, right? So it was just a probability guess.” I’m slightly taken aback, but his calculations make perfect sense except that the nagging in my mind disagrees with it.

  Or maybe some part of me wishes to think he subconsciously knows it’s me.

  God, why is it so important to me that he thinks I’m Arianna?

  Is it possible to be jealous of yourself? Because that’s exactly what it is. He is so attentive and gentle it makes me wonder how many women he had during all these years.

  And it drives me insane, because I can never ask.

  Not without revealing the truth at least. But will he be happy with that truth? Or will he be torn between me and his brother?

  Although just the idea of such a choice is laughable, because he can never betray a part of his soul.

  The clicking of Eudard’s fingers brings me back to the present as he motions for me to slide onto the ice. “The song is almost done, so I’m going to put it on again.” He presses the remote, and the song starts from the beginning as I slowly get on the ice. My heart is in my throat, and with the first bite of the frigid air I only associate with this place, I freeze, taking it all in.

 

‹ Prev