3. Chase
3
CHASE
M elody’s presence is annoyingly distracting. I’ve had to restart my composition at least five times, trying to figure out why it’s not working. Something, some note, isn’t fitting. But no matter how many times I play the piece, I miss it, too focused on her sleeping form.
I’d been picturing someone homely, not this siren that’s walked in and upturned my life. With her long pink hair and enchanting blue eyes.
Christ, she even smells intoxicating. Like vanilla with a hint of orange. It took everything in me not to grab her by her chin and close the distance between us. I bet she’d feel so good pressed up against the wall with her long legs wrapped around my waist.
This won’t do.
I can’t be distracted. My studies are too important. And with her here, I’m a jumble of thoughts. I never get jumbled. I’m organized. Methodical. In control.
It’s been all of two fucking seconds of her here and I’m already unraveling. I’m supposed to be making her life a living hell, not the other way around.
Melody makes a soft noise and snuggles down further on my couch and fuck —I miss the note again. I restart my piece and try to focus, but my eyes travel down the length of her lithe body imagining all the things I could do to her.
I’m not used to having my space invaded by a woman. Or anyone really. Yeah, James comes over and chills out here, but he’s quiet and great at minding his own business. Most of the time.
And sure, I sleep around. But they’re always gone by morning.
My choice, not theirs.
It’s better that way. No room for attachments that’ll just end in them leaving me anyway once they get to know me.
The way Melody flinched away from me consumes my thoughts. I wasn’t going to hurt her, but she acted on instinct. Like someone who’s been hit before.
An unsettled feeling rumbles through my chest at that.
I can be a mean son of a bitch, but I’d never hurt a woman. I just wanted to scare her a bit. Rough house her emotions to frighten her away. But fuck, that haunted look in her eyes has me actually feeling uncomfortable. Remorseful even.
Fuck. I miss the note again.
I press replay, and focus intently, banishing any thoughts of Melody from my head. At the end of the day, she’s just a gold-digging nuisance. Siphoning my late mom’s fortune. Just like my father. A leech and nothing more.
Daddy dearest is an expert as pissing away the remainder of Mom’s fortune. She worked her life away for it and all he did was cheat on her repeatedly. I never did find out if Mom was just unaware of his extracurricular interests or if she was too busy running her company to notice. A company now run by my father. How convenient. He never liked coming in second place to a woman. He’s the kind of man that if he’s passed by a woman on the road, he has to speed up and pass her right back.
Though the police never have suspected that my father was involved in my mother’s death, I can’t say the same. Every time I see him or hear his voice, I wonder. Did he pay off the investigators to look the other way? Did his dazzling white smile and deep pockets enchant the news reporters into sniffing around? The world might think he’s innocent but there’s a darkness that lurks in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Most people think it’s from losing his wife, but I don’t. I think he had her killed. Travis Milford isn’t the type to get his hands dirty. He won’t even mow his own lawn.
With this recent surprise wedding, my suspicions are only heightened. For a man whose been more than happy to be playing the field, flitting from woman to woman, I never anticipated that he would take another wife. And so soon.
My mother’s passing was only a little over a year ago. The investigation, as far as I know, is close to being closed. Ruled an accident, though nothing official yet. I’m not convinced it was an accident. My mom was an intentional woman. She always was aware of her surroundings, and never drank more than a glass of wine. To have her body washed up on the beach of the club was inconceivable. She wouldn’t have been out on the water. She was never the type to take off or act wild. Everything they found was suspicious.
But with my father’s influence and the police’s pressing backlog, her case is hardly being worked on. Their evidence has been way too convenient in my opinion. The detective working it is far too eager to paint my mother as a lush. A woman of flighty character, prone to manic episodes and erratic behavior. No matter how hard I protested, I was brushed off. Told to sit down and shut up. Let the professionals handle it. It wasn’t right. I’ve been simmering in my rage ever since.
For the fiftieth time tonight, I restart my piece and hone into the music. Letting the noise of my thoughts drift to the background while the notes carry me beyond any feeling. Disassociating myself from this mortal plane to exist as one with my art. And all of a sudden, it clicks. I hurriedly switch out the offending flat g, for a staccato beat that fits the mood, and everything switches with the subtle tweak.
Saving my work, I upload it to the professor’s inbox with an hour to spare. Melody sleeps through my evening routine as I prepare for bed, opting to change in the en suite bathroom.
I’m fucking restless though. No matter how much I try to sleep, my eyes keep finding Melody’s silhouette in the dark. It’s nothing but a vague shape, but I’m all too aware that she’s just feet away. Her breathing soft and steady.
Having her show up with Liam was another surprise. I used to consider him my friend, until he wasn’t. The thing about Langford, is that it’s more like a small town. Everyone knows everyone and they’re always popping up when you’d rather never see them again. Secrets don’t stay secret for long, and everyone hooks up at one point or another. It makes for a messy atmosphere.
I don’t like the way Liam’s eyes lingered on Melody’s chest when she wasn’t looking. Fucking prick. Not that I’m any better. I’m pretty sure she caught me openly staring.
She just had to show up here looking so fuckable and disheveled. Most of the girls here are polished within an inch of their lives. With standing nail and hair appointments to keep them looking pristine, but I prefer someone rough around the edges. Looking like someone real. Someone who could take being fucked hard without worrying that it’s going to mess up their hair or break a nail.
My cock throbs thinking of the way her breasts pulled at her uniform. It made me want to grab her and watch how I could make them bounce. I run my hands down my face.
She’s going to be a problem.
Maybe I’ll talk to the headmistress tomorrow about finding her some place to stay, because being attracted to my new stepsister is a disaster in the making. And if they don’t have a place for her, I’ll just have to make Melody want to run back to wherever she came from.