Chapter 59
CHRISTOPHER
My mission is simple.
Get pissed as fast as possible.
“Well, since my baby left me, I found a new place to dwell.”
Coddling my gin, I listen to the voice crooning over the speakers. Deep and soulful, it takes two seconds for me to realize I’m nowhere close to drunk enough.
“Turn that shit off.”
The bartender guarding the stereo gives me an affronted look.
“This is Elvis, man.”
“Down at the end of Lonely Street at Heartbreak Hotel.”
A growl escapes my throat, “I know who it fucking is. Turn it off.”
The other patrons at the airport bar murmur among themselves, judgmental looks and annoyed expressions not doing much to help my behaviour.
“Don’t mind the heartbroken fool. He’s still getting used to his reservation.”
Knuckles tap the wooden countertop, drawing my attention to the pompous ass making himself comfortable in the seat beside me.
“I’ll have what he’s having.”
“Do us both a favour and fuck off.”
The bartender slides a glass across the table, offering Marlin Seaborn a sympathetic smile.
“On the house.”
“He’s filthy rich, you know.”
My comment draws another pity-inducing expression.
God. I hate this fucker.
Marlin takes a sip of his gin and pulls a face, “Is this what it’s supposed to taste like?”
“Dunno. It was the first thing I saw.”
“Understandable.” Clearing his throat, he sets the drink back on the table, “Particularly for a man of your emotional level.”
“Emotional level? Do you hear the way you talk about people?” Scowling at the man beside me, I feel those levels start to drop, “You win, Marlin. You fucking win. I left Wolf Hollow with significantly less brain cells and no fucking sanity. Is that what you wanted?”
He looks down, casually adjusting his dress shirt before responding.
“Are these feelings in respect to me or someone else?”
“You don’t think about your actions, do you? The repercussions they have on other people.” Choking back a hysterical laugh, I take another swig from my glass, “She turned me into a fucking madman. I couldn’t think straight around that woman and now I can’t think at all.”
“Love tends to be the most potent of concoctions.”
“I fucking listened to her. I heard all the things she didn’t say. I saw how fucking lonely she was, and you know what happens?”
He doesn’t respond but my jukebox is fucking rolling.
“She tells me not to stay. Pushes me away so I have no choice but to get back on a plane and fly halfway around the world because she’s too fucking stubborn to tell me she needs me.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t fucking see because you don’t know a damn thing about me.” Closing my eyes, I blow out a breath and press the cool glass to my forehead, “She chose me. She chose me and decided to let me leave anyways.”
Marlin takes another sip of his drink, wincing slightly as he puts it back down. I’m breathing unsteadily, fogging up the rim of my glass while he’s looking cool and collected.
Drawing attention from every female within proximity.
Bastard.
“Why are you here? I don’t like you and I know for a fact you don’t like me.”
He fiddles with the cuff of his sleeve before rolling it back.
Carefully folding the silk into perfect sections.
“You learn something from a young age in Wolf Hollow.” Tucking the last bit of material beneath his elbow, Marlin shifts and starts rolling the other one, “Every child dreams of the day when they will leave and never come back. Each one of us packs a suitcase, fruitlessly hoping that one day we will find a way to be free.”
A patch of ink covers his forearm, a crashing wave that takes down the ship struggling to ride it.
“Days turn into months and months turn into years. Eventually, you realize there is no one waiting on the other side.”
An anchor streaks through the ocean decorating his skin and buries itself deep in the sand. Locking the shipwreck in place so it can never float away.
“My suitcase ended up on the bottom of the ocean. Others ended up lost, tossed aside or simply destroyed until they were unable to open properly.” Marlin pauses, his eyes drifting over my shoulder, “One way or another, we all come to realize that suitcase will never be opened. Not in the way it was meant to.”
“We’ve all got trauma. I get it.”
“No. I don’t think you do.” Another pause, “Calista was not born within these borders, so her outlook on life was different. Her suitcase never got unpacked simply because there was never any reason to open it.”
I stare at him, feeling my chest grow tight.
“You knew?”
“I had my suspicions.” Sipping the gin, Marlin shakes his head and sets it aside, “The Dragon is a striking woman but not an attractive one. Dark hair and dark eyes tend to be hereditary, unless someone in the family carries a recess gene.”
“Calista’s colouring, not to mention her beauty, had to come from someone. I took the liberty of searching through Maleficent’s family tree and could not find a single blonde.”
I sigh, taking his glass and drinking what’s left.
“Could have been the dad.”
“And then there was that.” Lifting his brow, Marlin glances at me, “In the sixteen years she has been in power, the Dragon has taken very few lovers. And not one of them were a man.”
I groan, lowering my forehead back to the table.
“And you didn’t want to say something sooner?”
“It was only a suspicion until I heard Maddox’s riddle. The way he described the setting with not one parent but two.”
“The father screamed and the mother cried.”
He nods, “Had Maleficent been the mother, it would have been the child crying. Or the maid or some other third party, but he purposefully used the word mother.”
“And you immediately assumed he was talking about Calista?”
“There are some things only a madman can understand.”
A tug to my elbow has my head lifting. Shifting my eyes so I can see a plane ticket slide along the sticky countertop.
“It took me twelve years to unearth Calista Drache’s fear. The thought that keeps her up at night, the motivation that keeps her from opening that suitcase.”
Violet eyes are trained on my face, watching my reaction carefully.
“Being forced to live in someone else’s shadow is no easy feat. Particularly when your identity has been carved into something you no longer recognize.”
He glances down at the tattoo on his arm, “The Dragon’s daughter is the only title she has ever known. A powerful label, but one that has tied her down for so many years, she is afraid of what she’ll find once it’s gone.”
I don’t belong here.
Calista’s words ring through my head, the one time I chose not to fucking listen.
“Why are you telling me this.”
“It occurred to me that I could never have full control of Wolf Hollow with Calista still in residence. She is too familiar with my methods, too involved with my processing system for the break to ever be complete.”
He sighs, “And I find myself feeling unsettled at the thought of an old friend rattling around a mansion all by herself. Her methods are far too unhinged already, I would hate to see how drastic they become should she not find a sliver of happiness in this world.”
“Huh.” Squinting at the face beside me, I try to look past the perfectly styled white hair, “That almost sounds sincere.”
A chuckle flows out of his mouth, “You can be amusing when you are not emotional, Christopher Deville.”
“Love to hear it.”
“Now, are you going to take the ticket or should I get a refund? I am a busy man, you know.”
“I already have a ticket.”
He raises a brow, looking condescending as fuck.
“Which is why I did not say it was for you.”
My heart picks up speed, thundering and racing with the answer that’s been in front of my nose this entire time.
“Just tell me one thing.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh, “Make it quick.”
“Why did you choose Marlin?”
I shift in my seat, noticing his eyes drifting again. Wandering and landing on the petite redhead who looks back at him expectedly.
Melody St. James.
“There was a movie I saw when I was younger. An animated series about a couple of clownfish. Premise was quite simple, really, there was a father and a son. The son got lost, so the father swam across the entire ocean to find him.”
Marlin looks through a bar full of people and smiles at the only one who matters.
“I thought it sounded like a father worth remembering.”
“Fair enough.” Snatching the plane ticket, I drown the rest of my drink and pull the keys from my pocket, “I gotta run, but thanks for the drink.”
“Should you be driving?”
We both look at the bartender.
“He’s fine.” Swilling a glass under the faucet, the guy shrugs, “Looked like he was going to be here a while so I watered them down.”
That fucker.
“Thanks, mate. I appreciate it.” Clapping Marlin a little too hard on the back, I give the bartender a nod, “Put it on his tab.”
I make it two steps before my name gets called.
“Oh, Deville. You forgot something.”
Marlin holds up a rusty key, a battered old thing clinging to a silver chain. I look at the key to my mum’s old apartment, the memento of a woman who was never going to choose me.
The piece of garbage that should have been thrown out a long time ago.
“Keep it. I don’t need it anymore.”
There’s a grin on my face as I turn around and start running through the crowd. Pushing and shoving people out of my way because I’ve got a plane to catch.
And I was asking the wrong question.