Leaning down I place my lips on hers, feeling her tense up for a moment only to relax a second later. This isn’t a passionate kiss, but a sensual one. I’m telling her through our interaction how I really care for her, even if I don’t have the courage to tell her verbally quite yet.
Pulling away from her lips I press a kiss on her forehead. “You are radiant and your scars don’t take from your beauty, they add to it. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”
“Where are we headed, home?” Melody questions, almost like she didn’t hear what I just said.
“Not quite. I want to show you something first.” I say, picking up her bag for her. I offer my hand and while she does take it, I feel some disconnect between the two of us. Our last few weeks have been rough with me working and her being here, but every moment I’m able to be, I’ve been by her side, even when she hasn’t exactly wanted me there.
Melody and I leave the hospital, get in my car, and I drive her to the school. Before we even arrive I can see her clenching her fists. I can’t even imagine how terrified she must be. “Relax, love. I want to show you the progress we’ve made on the construction. It’s almost done, and it’s even more beautiful than before.”
“I’m sorry, I . . . I don’t know why I’m getting so flustered.” She’s quick to speak, but looks out the window instead of looking at me. I know she can’t tell, but she’s leaning so closely against the passenger side window I can see her reflection in my side mirror. Melody’s crying. I want nothing more than to pull her to me, tell her how everything is okay, and promise her she’ll never be hurt again . . . though, I can’t make those promises because I don’t know if I can keep them.
“It’s alright.” I soothe her, taking one of my hands off the wheel to place it over hers, but she pulls away. I breathe in deeply, trying to calm my mind . . . but I feel as though I know where this is headed.
Turning left, I pull down the road that leads to the school and stop in the reserved parking area for those who will be driving here. I actually had the men make a reserved spot for not only myself and Melody, but the head staff as well. I think it’s important we show them that we value them and their commitment to the school.
“Wow. They’ve made some progress.” Melody comments, exiting the vehicle before I can even get out.
I catch up with her rather quickly and my heart beams with pride as she smiles. “It’s a two-story design, kind of resembling the A-frame houses some cabins have. The younger children will have school downstairs, while the older ones who’d be in secondary and high school will have their classes upstairs.”
Melody walks up to the four-foot, white brick wall we have as a feature, placing her hands on the iron gate and looks over into the schoolyard. “What’s this for, and that structure over there?” She looks to the right, which has a smaller version of the school.
“That will be for the young children, for the ones who aren’t ready to be enrolled in school yet. We’re able to expand into an orphanage, Melody. We can help more children now. Look,” I place my hand on the back of her hip and turn her toward me. “You see those four structures over there? They’re for the children, two for the boys and two for the girls. All of them are split up by ages. Meanwhile, this smaller building’s upstairs is solely dedicated to the children living here.”
Melody’s smile begins to fade and she looks me directly in the eyes. “What if something like this happens again, Mikel? What will they do?”
“I had bunkers built with underground tunnels that would lead them out into the countryside, but close to a main road. I recently purchased some property there and a garage is being put out there. It’ll run as an automotive or mechanic shop, but the buses on the property and a couple of the vehicles will belong to the school, in case anything like this was to ever happen again. I’ve prepared for everything, Melody.” I assure her, wanting her to know I’ve put a lot of thought into this.
She peers up through her thick eyelashes and I can see the wetness. Tears are threatening to fall again. “Are you prepared to tell me the truth, and nothing but the truth? I can’t keep doing this anymore, Mikel. I feel like everything we are is a lie because of it.”
Her words hit me right in the gut, and given the way she’s been acting toward me today I think her mind is already made up. I hope I’m wrong, but I’ll only know once I rip this metaphorical band-aid off and tell her the truth.
“Do you want to come over here and have a seat? I’d feel better telling you all this if you were sitting down.” I explain. There have been many times where I’ve been told stories about women passing out when they’ve heard certain news. I’d rather be safe than sorry when it comes to Melody, because no matter what happens today she will always hold a special place in my heart.
I motion toward the other side of the school where there’s a decent sized area with a roof and a concrete floor. It acts as a picnic area where the kids will be able to have their meals outdoors on mild days. She makes her way over to a table and sits down. I do the same.
Clasping my hands in front of me, I look her directly in the eyes as I speak. “You know my name, though you don’t know the meaning behind it. My family, the Lungus, are Romanian royalty. I’m what is called a head Clan member, meaning the now head of my family. What a head Clan member truly is . . . difficult to explain but I’ll do my best. I’m part of a different world, Melody, a dark world. I’m in charge of the South African endeavors for the Romanian mafia. The Lungus have been assigned to this territory for many years.”
Melody’s face twists in shock and she rises from her seat, stumbling backwards. She raises her hand and points her finger at me. “I don’t know what kind of sick joke you’re pulling Mikel, but I don’t like it. This isn’t funny.”
Taking in a deep breath I try to think of a way to tell her this isn’t a joking matter, but I can’t come up with anything concrete, so I stick with the route I’m going. I take my left arm behind my back and pull my gun free, setting it on the picnic table before me.
“Why do you have a gun?” She asks, almost like she didn’t listen to anything I just said.
“I’m telling you the truth, Melody. Why else would I have a loaded gun?”
“No. You have it because of what happened to me. You want to protect me.” She mutters, shaking her head in disbelief.
I nod, confirming the latter. “I will always do whatever I need in order to protect you, but I’ve had this gun for many years, and I own countless others. They’re hidden in my car, across my house, even in my offices. Melody, I’m trying to tell you what you wanted to know— the truth, but I can only do that if you’re open to hearing it.”
“Have you killed p-people?” She stutters on the last word, and I want to lie. I want to lie more than anything else because she doesn’t need to know specifics.
I nod, not giving her a verbal confirmation.
“My life’s work is improving lives, not . . . not this.”
“This isn’t about your life, sweet girl. It’s about mine. It’s about ours.”
“You don’t think I know that?!” She screams in response, tears pouring down her face. “Mikel, I . . . I’ve wanted this to work between us. I really did, but . . .” She’s speaking in past tense. I don’t mistake it at all. “I can’t do this. I can’t be with a man who takes life away so easily, without even batting an eye at it. We . . . we can’t ever be anything. This doesn’t align with my morals, with the way I was raised.”
I nod my head, hearing what she’s saying, but not liking anything she’s saying. “I understand.” I clear my throat and respond. I take my cell phone from the pocket of my pants and alert one of my men to come here and fetch her, to take her wherever it is she wants to go.
“I need to go home, back to Atlanta.” She says, and I nod again, not able to say anything else to her. It wouldn’t even make a difference.
I’ll stay here with Melody until my man comes, but as soon as I see they’re gone I’ll head
back to the house and drown my sorrows in alcohol. There isn’t very much that’s constant in my life, but at least I can count on this.
Chapter Seventeen
Melody
Yesterday might’ve been one of the hardest moments of my life. In my heart I know what I’m doing is the right thing because I don’t want to change him. Mikel is a great man. I don’t have any doubt about that, but . . . I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing the things he does. Part of me is struggling with this, on whether or not I’m making the biggest mistake of my life, unsure on whether I should give him another shot . . . but I already know I can’t.
I stayed at a hotel in town last night and now it’s a little after seven in the morning. Even though I know things needed to end, I don’t think I ended them in the right way. To say I felt bitter last night is a dramatic understatement. So, I’m in the back of a cab on my way to Mikel’s home. My hope is we can talk face-to-face and I can leave on good terms, as friends.
“We’re almost here,” The driver tells me.
I glance up from my phone after telling a couple friends I’d be heading back to Atlanta today. I figured it was best to get back in touch with people I’ve fallen out of contact with. It’ll make going back to stateside living a bit easier.
“Perfect. Drop me off at the front entrance and I’ll walk in. Keep your car outside the gate and I’ll come back within thirty minutes.”
“You know you’ll pay me for the entire time, right?” He spits in a rude tone.
I nod, “Yes, and I’ll happily leave you a rewarding tip for your patience as well. I only need thirty minutes.”
“Whatever you say, lady.” He mutters, pulling down the dirt driveway we come to the gate and I exit the vehicle with my purse thrown over my shoulder. Shutting the car door I approach the gate and walk up to the small door area where there’s another spot to put the code in.
Since Mikel and I typically came back using a vehicle I’d never used this entrance, so this time’s the first. I hope it works. I put in the code to grant me entry and sigh in relief as the box beeps, signaling now I can open the door. I push and walk through the entrance, making sure it closes behind me.
It takes me a couple minutes before I’m on his front porch, and I see his men walking around the place. Funny how at first I wrote off the fact he had armed bodyguards. I figured it must be normal for a man like this who’s so determined to build orphanages and schools here in South Africa. They were for simple protection. What I didn’t know was the truth behind it, and how little his charity work has to do with his guards. Now, I see the real reason they’re here. To ensure their boss doesn’t die at the hands of an enemy.
Mikel Lungu is in the mafia. Even now, it seems like a dream. Like it can’t possibly be true, and yet it is.
Shaking my head in disbelief I place my hand on the knob and turn it, walking in like I usually do. His men know me, so they know I’m allowed to be here. “Melody, what a surprise.” Arno, one of Mikel’s men, states.
“Morning Arno.”
“Morning,” He cranes his neck a bit, “Um, I apologize for being brash, but I’m a bit surprised you’re here.”
“Ah, you’ve never been one to beat around the bush.” I try to make light of the situation. The awkwardness is a bit suffocating.
“Can’t say I have, no.”
“How is Mikel?” I ask, not realizing what I’ve asked until it comes darting out.
Arno’s playful smirk falls and he waves for me to follow him to the entrance of Mikel’s study. “Mikel is . . . coping. I don’t know what you’ve come here for, Melody . . . but Mikel is not only my boss. He’s my friend as well. No, he . . . he is more than that. Mikel is my mfowethu. It means family, he is a brother to me, Melody. I don’t like seeing him this way. You know it is my job to protect him, to ensure he doesn’t die . . . but I will say this now and hope it is enough for you to understand. I will protect Mikel from other threats as well, even if it is his heart.”
Arno opens the door for me but purposefully places his arm in front of the doorway so I can’t enter. “Do me a favor and let yourself out. There’s much work to be done here.” He pulls his arm away as quickly as he put it there and walks down the hallway, out of sight.
I take a moment to calm my racing heart, not realizing Arno was so defensive over Mikel. I step down into his study and find him sprawled out on his rust colored leather couch. He’s out cold and I figure he fell asleep here last night working late. That is, until I see two empty bottles of Witblits, which I discovered is a very strong South African drink. I’d say it’s similar to moonshine, but it’s made from grapes I believe, which explains the slightly sweeter taste. I won’t even lie, it’s not much sweeter. It can still punch you in the gut.
I approach him slowly, debating on whether or not I should wake him up. After careful consideration, I decide not to stir him. His soft whistles when he breathes in is too much to bear. Heading over to his desk I spot a notepad and a pen. His laptop is shut, so I decide I’ll write him a quick note and then slide it between his screen and keyboard. At least this way I don’t think Arno will be able to interfere.
It’s funny how my plan is simple and yet I don’t know what to say. In hindsight, I thought this would be so much easier if we were communicating to each other face-to-face, but now I realize even that would’ve been difficult.
I take the pen in my right hand and start to write.
Mikel,
I stand here unsure on what to say, or how to say it. Truth be told, I had hoped we could speak one-on-one, but now I think it would’ve caused more harm than good.
When you came into my life I was unsure of why. Now I know. You were here in some sort of way to pull me out of my shell, to not solely focus on work but to live. I thank you for that Mikel Lungu, for showing me how to live my life to the fullest.
But most of all — I thank you for showing me how to be happy.
I’m leaving to go back to Atlanta, but I won’t forget any of the memories we made together. I apologize for the way I reacted yesterday, but I’m still firm in my decision. I don’t want you to change, Mikel. I also don’t want to change myself to fit into your world.
With love,
Melody
Before I can change my mind, I fold the paper in half and slide the note between his keyboard and his screen. I can’t see any of the edges, so I don’t believe it will get taken and hopefully within a few hours Mikel will have read it.
I quickly exit Mikel’s house and head back out to where the car is on the other side of the gate, hopping in the back. “You didn’t take thirty minutes, lady.”
I fake a smile, “The visit went faster than I anticipated. If you could take me to the Pietermaritzburg Airport I would appreciate it.”
A little over an hour has shot by and I’ve just made it through to my terminal and now I’m sitting here, charging my phone, staring at the email I’m about to send to Mariana Petran. I’ve thanked her profusely for the opportunity she gave me, but how I need to take a step back and focus on myself. I even go on to explain how working in South Africa has been a little too much for me and I decided it wasn’t a good fit based on that. If I’m lucky, she’ll accept everything I’ve said and understand.
Glancing up to the clock on the wall I see I’ll be boarding my flight in about ten minutes. I never thought I’d ever say this, but I can’t wait to get back home.
Chapter Eighteen
Mikel
Every damn day I look at this note while drinking my coffee. I don’t even know why I do it anymore. Is it to punish myself? Do I think I’m going to find some sort of hidden message? Still, I can’t figure it out.
I place the note down and take another sip of my coffee before my eyes fall on my calendar. How has it been over twenty days since Melody left? Damn me for thinking this, but I saw something with her. I saw a future and I hope she did too. It’s funny how I think if she never knew the truth, we’d most likely work o
ut romantically speaking. Though, I know there isn’t any way to get her back now.
There was a time when I could’ve, possibly. I could’ve flown to Atlanta and poured my heart out . . . she probably would’ve come back with me, but this fucking note, how she states she doesn’t want me to change and she doesn’t want to change herself to be with me. It’s the poison that keeps on stinging.
I could be a selfish bastard. I could be arrogant and over-bearing. I could tell Arno to go fetch her and bring her back to me. Fuck, I could even put her in a cage like some of the other Clan leaders have. She would submit after some time, knowing she wouldn’t have any other choice. My point is, if I wanted to, I could give an order to my men and they’d make sure she came back to me. Although, I won’t. I won’t take the choice from her.
There’s a part of me that hopes after time she’ll see that we were truly so good together, that I might’ve been the best she ever had. I can’t do anything except wait and see if she’ll turn up. However, if she was going to, she would’ve by now.
I place my coffee down on my dining room table and take a bite of my egg whites with spinach. I’ve told my staff how I’m doing my best to make sure I stay in good shape. Every day I’m getting older, and while I could drink soda and eat shit in my twenties, I can’t do that now. It will literally run right through me.
My phone begins to vibrate beside my knife and I see it’s Salvatore Moretti calling. We’ve met on occasion, usually at a Funar family function. His brother-in-law is Marcellus Funar, who is a Clan leader. Salvatore’s family are hit-for-hire assassins, and own an empire. They call their organization the Arcane. The best of the best killers work for this group. I wonder why he’d be calling me. Especially at this hour. It must be a little after one in the morning for him, considering I woke up a bit late today.
Flawed (The Clans Book 12) Page 7