by Theo Baxter
You're turning into your father.
That single thought was the reason I ruled against buying any kind of surveillance equipment. I was no spy, no private detective, only a man trying to survive. My goal wasn't to go on offense but to play a strong defense. Although she was doing her best to hurt me, for whatever reason, my intent was not to hurt her back, only stop her in her endeavors.
There were some lines that I wouldn't cross in this war. And this was war, there was no question about it. I didn't start it, but I would make sure to finish it. No matter the methods Melissa used in her endeavors, I would never stoop to her level.
Really? I’d already recorded her multiple times with my phone and was just now contemplating planting bugs. I was no golden boy. It was hard standing on any kind of moral ground while trying to blackmail my stepmother.
Making audio logs and planting bugs in her room were two vastly different things, or so I tried to tell myself. Perhaps I was simply not desperate enough to do everything that was necessary to neutralize this threat. Melissa wasn't playing fair, so why should I? Because when all was said and done, I needed to be able to look myself in the mirror and not be disgusted with myself.
Thinking of all that and more, of all the things discussed with Dr. Blake, I felt like my plate was not only full but overflowing. The tricky part was that I had a job now so I couldn't waste time on Melissa, and at the same time, I had no choice.
My teaching job had to come first, though. That was my ticket to get the hell out of this place once I settled my score with Melissa.
In my moment of desperation, I contemplated teaching outside, in a park. It was an online course, after all, so what it did matter if I was in nature? That way, I wouldn't have to be forced to deal with Melissa each day or be kicking her out of my room for privacy, things like that.
A couple of problems presented almost immediately regarding such change. I couldn't achieve the kind of privacy I needed in a public park. It would be full of distractions and it wouldn't be professional looking. I was a psychologist, not a botanist, so my trip to nature wouldn't make any sense.
More importantly, I couldn't really avoid Melissa, not altogether, not if I wanted to gather evidence against her. Unfortunately, I had to be in her presence, goad her to say things that could incriminate her. That was the key, after all. I was certain that if I managed to find concrete proof of her misdeeds, I would be golden.
If I got her saying something she shouldn't, especially about my father, that would successfully shut her up for good. She wouldn't be able to threaten me with anything ever again. That was the plan. Sure, she would be pissed, but she wouldn't be able to do anything about it or sabotage me in any way.
Self-preservation was a powerful thing. She might resent me. She might even slap me a couple of times once she realized she lost all the power, but she would eventually retreat. Based on everything that I had seen so far, she wouldn't go nuclear and ruin us both. That was my irrational fear thinking before.
Melissa wouldn't jeopardize her own comfort or safety on a petty feud. Of course, her own comfort came at a steep price since my father was a bastard, but that was a different story altogether. The point was that she depended on him, and I was one hundred percent sure she wouldn't do anything that would make her lose everything. After all, she had a mother who needed to be tended to.
Naturally, all this wouldn't apply if she were bat shit crazy. If she was determined to fuck me over, no matter the cost, then that was that. Game over. In that case, my father would go nuclear and get rid of both of us.
Sadly, I was dead sure I would have the opportunity, and in the near future, to discover what kind of a woman Melissa truly was and how far she was willing to go to get what she wanted.
Look what you did with your life, asshole, I sighed. None of this would happen if you just did as expected and nothing else. Banishing those counterproductive thoughts, I finally forced myself to go home. I needed to prepare for my classes. That was the only bright thing in my life, and I cherished it immensely.
When I wasn't stressing about Melissa, I was trying to come up with some way to express my thanks to Steven. He'd really turned my life around more than he would ever know. Most of all, he gave me hope, and that was a kindness I would never forget.
Getting home, I went straight to my room, reciting my mantra. See no evil, hear no evil. That was my version of praying that I wouldn't encounter my father or Melissa.
This time around, my makeshift mantra had no effect since Melissa was in my room, yet again. Putting a lock on the inside was a stupid idea. I needed something more secure to keep her out. Like some garlic hanging from the door frame? I joked to myself.
She jumped a little when she heard me entering as though startled, which was ridiculous. Why wouldn't she expect me in my own room? She recovered quickly, though, standing by the desk. That was unusual as well. Melissa preferred to greet me lying on my bed.
"You really should stop doing this," I said instead of a more proper greeting. We outgrew that.
Melissa smiled, leaning against the desk, taking a rather seductive pose. "If memory serves me, you liked it when I came here to surprise you," she practically purred.
I felt disgusted. She would stoop at nothing to get what she wanted.
"Liked," I insisted. "Past tense, Melissa." Now I knew better.
"We could return to that, resume where we stopped."
"Not a chance," I replied instantly. There was no way in hell I was getting in bed with her again. After everything she put me through, how could she even suggest that? She's insane, that's how.
Completely ignoring my words, or not taking them seriously, she approached me, slowly invading my personal space. She looked me straight in the eyes while trying to cup me.
I took a step back then, getting out of her reach. What game is she playing now? I wondered.
"What are you doing here, Melissa?" I demanded, all too late realizing my phone was still safely nestled inside my pocket and not recording this encounter.
Son of a bitch, I cursed. I would suck as a spy. If this were some kind of a spy movie, I would be that guy who would end up dead in the first ten minutes of the film for being stupid. That was me, an idiot, not a hero.
"Do I need a reason?" she challenged without answering me.
I hated it when she did that. "Yes," I replied. I was tired of her games. I was tired of her as a whole.
"I wanted to see you," she replied, making a face.
Once upon a time, I would have totally fallen for such an act since she made me feel like I was the only man in the world for her. Now, I could see it for what it really was, a manipulation. I smelled her bullshit from miles away this time around, and I felt like patting myself on the back since that was a huge accomplishment.
"Okay, you saw me, now leave," I replied calmly.
She smirked. "Ouch, so cold, so sexy."
Was she mocking me?
She tried to touch me, but I stopped her. "Melissa, I know you're playing, so cut the crap and be real for once."
"I was horny and wanted to see if you were done being stubborn. Apparently not," she snapped as though losing patience.
There was a possibility she was telling the truth since the reason given was selfish enough, but at the same time . . .
"Another lie," I said out loud with a sigh.
Her head snapped. "Are you accusing me of being a liar? Dean, you are really hurting my feelings."
For that to happen, you have to have feelings in the first place.
Despite her words, she didn't look hurt at all. She looked calculated and on a mission. The question was, what kind? Did she somehow discover what I was doing and was searching for the audio files? That was a possibility and that would explain her being by my desk. Luckily, I didn't hide the copies there.
"If you're so hurt, then just leave."
She sighed loudly, as though she found my behavior tiring. It would be comical if it weren’t so
infuriating. "As you wish," she said, taking me by surprise. Melissa started walking toward the door.
"Melissa?" I heard myself say, and she stopped in her tracks. "Yes?"
"Answer me this, please."
She looked at me over her shoulder, waiting for me to get to the point.
"Why are you messing with my life when I've done nothing wrong to you?"
I knew my question sounded naive, as was my faith that she would actually answer me truthfully. Nevertheless, I couldn't help myself. If there were a chance she might tell me the truth, I had to take it, no matter how small it was.
Her smile was almost evil looking at me. "It's nothing personal. You simply got in my way," she said coldly, and with that, she left.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Three days later, I felt like I was on top of the world. After my last conversation with Melissa where she so blatantly told me she was going to destroy me because I got in her way, although I couldn't fathom how, I felt beyond pissed and realized I needed to settle this as soon as possible.
Tactfully, so she couldn't make a scene, I sent Melissa a text to meet me at a local café. She never questioned why I wanted to see her but simply agreed. That was how confident she was. It amused me to no end picturing her demise.
I came early to pick the right spot. She was practically skipping with joy as she entered the small bar and sat beside me. It went without saying that she dressed for the occasion too, painted her face to perfection. Not to mention, her hair gleamed and looked as lovely as ever. I almost felt sorry for her and wanted to tell her she shouldn't have bothered to go through such effort. Almost.
"This is so secretive, so romantic," she sang in her usual manner.
After our last exchange, I saw no other way than to speed up my plan. I would simply use what I had and hope for the best.
"It's like old times," she added.
"Not quite."
She looked at me questioningly, and I in return gave her the mp3 player with a set of headphones.
"What is this? A present?" Melissa was intrigued.
"Of a sort," I replied vaguely, urging her to start the playlist I’d made for her.
I could see the variety of emotions passing over her face while she listened. At first, she was simply excited, then confused. With the passage of time came recognition, and she looked at me.
Yes, you are listening to us arguing, my face was saying in return.
After that, she became outraged, angry, and no matter how much she tried to hide it, there was a dash of fear there as well.
Got you, I thought victoriously.
She practically tore the headphones off. "What's the meaning of this?" she demanded.
I found her demeanor funny. She had no problems filming me, yet when the tables were turned, she had the audacity to act as though I’d committed a major crime.
"It's pretty self-explanatory," I countered calmly. "You destroy me, I destroy you." It was as simple as that, and luckily, she understood it.
"You're bluffing," she challenged.
"I can assure you that I'm not. If you in any way try to come between me and my inheritance, I will gladly take you down with me." And that was God's honest truth.
In an act of desperation, she tried to destroy the mp3 player by putting it in a glass of water. Her victorious look was short-lived.
I couldn't help laughing. "That is not the only copy, and I have many more files at my disposal in case you are wondering." I made sure she heard the most incriminating file. Naturally, I was bluffing that I possessed those recordings where she sounded even worse. But she didn't need to know that.
I hoped with all my might that this would work. It had to. "I recorded us many times," I threw in her face with relish. What goes around comes around.
The look on her face was priceless. I took a mental picture, knowing it would give me pleasure in the days that would follow.
Abruptly, and not without making noise, Melissa stood up. "This is not over," she seethed.
She sounded like a villain from some B-production movie. To that, I had to laugh, and wholeheartedly. Seeing me in such high spirits, she raised her chin, turned around with flair, and stormed out of the bar. I felt like cheering.
A few patrons in the cafe looked at me with disdain, but I didn't care. Despite what she said, I knew the war was over. I won. I freaking won. I outsmarted her, beat her in her own game, and it felt good. Finally, I was completely free of that woman, and right on time, since I really didn't want to do a full body wax and be her sex slave.
I couldn't wait to tell Dr. Blake of my victory, and I started typing her a text then reconsidered. I wanted to see her face when I told her it was over. She would be relieved that I had one less issue on my plate.
Feeling like I needed to celebrate this monumental achievement, I went to a local pastry shop and ordered myself a nice slice of banana cream pie, enjoying each bite with relish. Victory had never tasted so good.
There was only one thing that could rain in on my parade. There was one small worry that didn't have to mean a thing, yet at the same time, could mean a great deal. My seizures were acting up again. In the last three days, I'd had four small seizures, and they all started the same way, with me seeing auras around things. Apparently, that became the new normal for me. Dr. Blake was right, I really needed to go and see my doctor, ask for different dosages of my medications since clearly, something was off.
Yet, that was a worry for tomorrow. Today, I wanted to enjoy myself and the fact that I’d managed to get rid of Melissa. I would like to see her now, threatening me that she would make my father cut me off.
She looked seriously pissed marching out of the café, and all over again, that brought a big smile on my face. I knew she would be pissed, not that I cared about it. The important part was there was nothing she could do about it. Not without hurting herself in the process. Life was good.
Life wasn't good, as it turned out mere hours later. As I slowly walked home, I could see that the lights in the entire mansion were on. That wasn't a sight frequently seen, but that was nothing that could cause any alarm. Nor did the fact that my father was yelling from the top of his lungs. That was his usual state, as far as I was concerned.
As I entered, my father was walking like a caged animal around the trashed living room. At this point, I was sure he had an interior decorator on speed dial. Even the TV was cracked, but what caught my attention was what was on it. Fuck me to hell.
I instantly looked at Melissa who was sitting on the sofa, crying freely. Once again, her lower lip was busted and there was blood on her blouse. All kinds of thoughts rushed through my head in an instant. How did this happen? Did Melissa betray me? She destroyed us both? Did my father learn on his own? Because on the TV screen was a video of me and Melissa fucking like there was no tomorrow.
My father didn't even have the decency to turn the sound off, let alone stop the video. I was certain the images only fueled his rage further, not that he needed more.
"Fuck, " I said, which was an unfortunate choice of words. Unfortunately, as Melissa turned to look at me, so did my father.
"You," he growled.
He lunged toward me in all his Viking glory, and grabbing me by the neck, dragged me to the living room. I started to choke, but he didn't let go. If anything, I could feel him squeezing harder.
He is going to kill me.
I wasn't that lucky. Carson pushed me down on the sofa to sit next to Melissa. The prisoners were going to be tried then executed together.
"So, this is your work," he seethed, pointing at the screen.
I wanted to ask if he liked my techniques but held my tongue. It wasn't wise to antagonize him. At this moment, seeing him pacing about, raging, destroying whatever came in his way, there was no telling how he would react next.
"Carson, please," Melissa tried to speak through the sobs.
"Shut up," he yelled, striking her with an open palm. The severity of the hit made her
face go completely red.
After that, he refocused on me. "I let you in my house despite being a worthless piece of shit, paid all your medical bills, and this is how you repay me?" he raged, glaring at me as though he was seconds away from killing me with his bare hands.
And just like that, something inside me snapped. With the knowledge that my father could easily kill me here and now came a certain kind of liberation.
"I thought you would want me to feel welcomed. Melissa didn't mind," I replied, holding eye contact.
For that, he struck me too. My whole face started to throb instantly. I would have a great shiner tomorrow. If I have tomorrow in the first place. I let him have that punch without acting in return since I deserved it. I did fuck his wife, after all. I simply looked at him, letting him know I wasn't afraid. I knew I should be, that would be the logical thing, yet I wasn't.
"If you say another word, I will fucking kill you, you degenerate."
"Carson, please believe me, he made me do it," Melissa said in haste, only too happy to throw me under the bus.
He hit her so hard I was sure some of her teeth were loosened in the process. "Yeah, it looks like he really had to force you to spread your legs, you lying whore."
All the while, Melissa from the video kept screaming. "More, just like that. Harder." It really completed the scene as nothing else could.
Maybe it was wrong of me, but I didn't feel sorry for her, not one bit.
"I should throw you out right this minute to return to nothing where you belong, since you are nothing."
Melissa became frantic. "Please don't." She grabbed him by the legs, begging. He forced her to return to her place.
Of course, she went hysterical after he said something like that. She was frantic that she would lose all the money.
Oh, the tragedy, I mocked as she cried like never before. It surprised me how detached I was from the entire situation. I had been scared shitless while being with Melissa and now I felt absolutely nothing. Live or die, it was all okay.
Yeah, right.
The slight shimmer in front of my eyes painted a different picture. Oh, fuck no, please not now, I thought as the auras started to form.