22. Chase
22
CHASE
I hate this country club. Being here floods me with memories of my mom, and how we would come here when she was alive. I wonder what she would think of dad getting married to another woman at their club. With their friends. Replacing her as if she never existed.
Anger and grief make for an ugly combination, and I feel ready to lash out at anyone that crosses me today. I just need to make it through the reception and then I can get the fuck out of here, away from the familiar society that I’ve known my whole life. Away from the fake smiles and polite conversation that are nothing but a waste of time.
My dad has rented the entire club and the onsite suites. Melody and I are staying in separate rooms, and it feels weird to not be sharing a space with her for once. The ride from the airport was tense and long having been stuck in traffic with an Uber driver that was listening to Mariah Carey’s greatest hits on repeat. It would have been tolerable if he didn’t insist on singing along and off key the whole time. I playback how I had Melody pressed up against the sink and how badly I wanted her. It’s been fucking killing me to not touch her. Not talk to her. Hell, I haven’t even been able to look at her, because just being near her is torture.
My phone pings with an incoming message from the private investigator that just reads, “Dead end. Stop digging.”
Fuck. Maybe it’s time to give up and accept the police’s findings, no matter how much it pains me. Doing so feels like I’m betraying my mom though. She deserves justice for what happened to her, and deep in my bones I know it wasn’t just some accident.
As soon as we arrive, I’m bombarded by my dad’s acquaintances and an ever-present cloud of Chanel that seems to have seeped into the damask style carpet. I’m forced to shove my feelings down and play the dutiful son. Happy to be here. I make conversation and force my way through the room.
Melody slinks off as I’m ambushed by my Great Aunt Muriel.
“My darling, how is school?” She asks while pinching my cheek.
“It’s alright.”
Her wrinkled hand lingers on my cheek. “Such a shame about your mother. She’d be rolling in her grave if she knew Travis brought that tramp here.”
I chuckle at her brazenness, respecting the hell out of her for it. Great Aunt Muriel can always be trusted to say whatever she wants, and no one corrects her.
“Will you be singing today?” She asks.
“I will.” Normally, I don’t sing in public, but my father specifically requested it.
“Well, that will be lovely. It’s been ages since I’ve heard that angel voice of yours. Now where is that gorgeous new sister of yours?”
“Stepsister,” I correct automatically. “I think she went to get ready, which I really should go and do too.”
“Alright, love. But save a dance for an old lady later.”
“I will,” I promise, finding the entrance to the suites where I can change.
We have only a few hours to get ready before the ceremony starts and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to spend that time getting piss drunk. Every corner of the place holds a memory. Grief of my mom’s passing and anger over the private investigator’s message is rearing its ugly head, threatening to drown me. With how happy everyone is acting; you’d think her body wasn’t found just feet away from the club a little more than a year and a half ago. Her life ended but everyone moved on with their lives, forgetting her as if she never existed. My dad most of all.
Holding the wedding here seems like a disgrace to her memory. This was their place. And now he’s brought a new woman here. Replacing my mother as easily as if he were choosing a new shirt.
I change into my tux, ready to get this over with. When I exit the room though, I find Melody leaving at the same time. She’s dressed in a pale blue floor length dress that cascades over every curve of her body. It shimmers as she moves, resembling water rippling along the shore. My breath catches in my throat with how stunning she looks.
“Does it look alright?” She asks.
“G-gorgeous,” I stumble over my words, my tongue feeling heavy in my mouth.
“Can you help me zip this up though? I couldn’t reach it.”
It’s embarrassing how quickly I move at the chance to touch her. She turns around and I reach for the zipper that sits dangerously low on her back.
I can hardly breathe as the material glides beneath my fingers with one agonizingly slow movement. She inhales and my hands linger. It takes an enormous effort to step away from her and not to keep touching her like I ache to.
“Thanks,” she murmurs.
“Yep. It’s this way,” I gesture, and we walk silently together to where the ceremony is being held.
People filter into the space, row after row packed full of well-wishers here for the free food and to revel in the proximity to power. Money is a funny thing like that. Offering a sense of power to people who have access to it.
Melody walks down the aisle, and I unashamedly take that moment to stare at her ass as she does. It’s a moment of weakness but staying away from her like I’ve been, has proved near impossible. Even though she’s pushed me away, I still want her.
The music cues up as my new stepmother begins her walk down the aisle, but as she does, I’m caught missing my mark because that woman is the one I remember from a few years ago. The one threatening to get rid of my mom, and it looks like she got exactly what she wanted. I’m keenly aware of several people staring at me, waiting for me to start singing. When I do though, it’s guttural and full of rage, not the soft version I’m sure they were expecting.
My dad glares at me, but I don’t give a shit. I’m more convinced now than ever, that the two of them cooked up my mom’s demise to get to this moment.
The song comes to an end, and I drop the microphone, creating a high-pitched sound that pierces the air. Several people cover their ears I walk out of the room, needing to catch my breath.
Those fuckers killed her. I know it. I just have to figure out how I can prove it.