Chapter 2 #2
On the first-floor balcony sits a woman.
The balcony is illuminated by the glow from the room behind her.
Half her face is lit by the warm glow from the room; the other half by dim light rising from below.
Brown hair dancing like waves whenever the wind disturbs it.
Eyes closed. Fingers moving across what looks like a keyboard. A piano keyboard.
Dressed in pale blue full-sleeve pajamas, she sits in the cold playing music that has rooted me to the spot.
I’ve always had a strange fascination with piano music, one I don’t touch while sober, but when I’m drunk, I play.
Sometimes I talk to it. Logan told me that.
It’s never felt strange because we both know I like piano.
That’s why I bought one, even though I can’t play a single composition without alcohol.
I’ve heard many piano pieces over the past year, but none come close to what she’s playing.
Except the music of a pianist who no longer plays.
This woman is playing a melody carrying so much pain it reaches into my skull and blankets every corner like fog swallowing a landscape on the most ominous day.
It changes the way my heart beats—forcing it into the rhythm of her anguish, without asking my permission.
Who is she?
I need to know with the desperation of a lost traveler finding his way home.
I need to get close to her, need to see the pain on her face up close, need to take it from her.
A strangling fear crawls from the pit of my stomach up toward the place everyone says I don’t have.
I need to reach her before she vanishes.
A hand grips my shoulder and shakes. I tear my eyes from her to glance at Logan, then back to her. I can’t look away, I’m drowning in the fear that if I do, I’ll never see her again.
“This isn’t the place to indulge your brown-hair obsession.”
I don’t reply.
“Hunter, are you listening to me?” He shakes me again.
“I am. And I want you to shut up,” I snap, low enough not to carry over her music.
Logan tugs my arm. “Let’s go, we’re done here.”
I don’t budge. My eyes stay fixed on her until a man steps into my view.
My brows pinch. My jaw locks.
Who the fuck is he?
Fury bleaches my vision. My fist clenches around nothing, trembling.
The man kneels in front of her, wiping tears from her face. He rises and kisses her forehead. Red bleeds into my vision. My body moves on its own, but I’m yanked back. I turn and shove Logan aside.
He grabs my arm again.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
He punches me in the face. “Come back to your senses!” he shouts, gripping my head like a vice.
I wrench my head free and look up again. There’s no one on the balcony. Everything behind my eyes burns. My lungs refuse to draw air.
“I need to see her,”—a desperate plea torn from my lips.
“She’s the King’s daughter.” Logan rubs the back of my head, still burning.
I tear my gaze from the empty balcony and meet his eyes.
“How do you know?”
“The man you were watching with every intention of killing was King Alessio. I heard at the party before coming out that his daughter is sick.”
I saw Alessio at the party, yes, that was him on the balcony. I didn’t recognize him in the fury that seized my senses, locking all logic behind the pounding of my pulse.
Logan releases my face, takes my hand, and pulls me back inside. I follow without resisting.
My brain is already working on a plan to reach her—King Alessio’s daughter.
Logan pulls the car over once we’re a good distance from the mansion.
“Now tell me what the fuck is wrong with you.”
“I want her.” The words come out easy, absolute.
“Like I want to build a house on Mars. She’s not some random girl at a bar you call because you think you want her, then throw away.”
“I know what she is.”
She’s the woman who made my heart beat to her music, made me want to take her pain when I don’t even give a fuck about my own.
She made me feel alive in those ten minutes, just by sitting at a height I can’t reach, lost in her own world.
I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of this: I fucking need that woman.
Logan starts the car again.
“You can’t have her. She’s way beyond your reach. You’ll never even get a glimpse of her again. Talk yourself out of this stupid idea.”
I ignore him and stare out the window.
She’s beyond my reach, but not for long. I’ll eliminate everything and everyone that comes between us.
The intensity of my thoughts should scare me, but it doesn’t, it feels natural. Wanting to burn down cities just to reach her feels as natural as wanting to see sunlight.
“What’s her name?”
“How would I know?” Logan replies grumpily. “Please don’t think about her. Alessio will kill you if you go near his daughter.”
Death doesn’t scare me.
“There’s a fair chance she’s already married,” he adds.
I frown. That scares me.
“She isn’t married. Alessio would have announced a son-in-law to the world.” Venom leaks into every word.
“Not if she’s married to a common man,” he points out.
“She isn’t married,” I say with finality. “And even if she is, I’ll kill her husband.”
“Fuck you, man. You know the consequences of doing that,” he snaps.
“Consequences can damn themselves. I don’t give a fuck. I want her, and that’s final.”
He lets out a sharp breath through his flared nostrils, presses his lips together, and falls silent. I know he isn’t done with the topic, and neither am I.