Final Curtain

Nate's POV

"So, hum… when we were—you know…" she was squinting hard at the dashboard, I just knew it. Probably convincing herself to get a grip already, to stop acting like such a wuss and admit it. "When we were a couple did you ever do what I asked you?"

Listening to her voice coming from the driver's seat took me back to when we started our road trip. We might've been on a race against Order assassins and a few lunatics, like my sister and Sam, but those times hadn't been all bad. We'd had some fun. Hell, I even missed arguing with Mel.

A faint smirk crossed my lips, she was eying me squarely. We'd left the rave almost an hour ago (asking Aric for the keys to his car had been a mortifying experience), traffic had been crazy, but that's not why Mel looked so bent out of shape. Nope, she'd told me to take her back home—as in, her apartment—and now we were parked outside Aric's place.

"This might come as a shock to you, but yes. From time to time, I listened to you." I saw her eye rolling me in the darkness.

Mel called out my attention by slumping heavily into the seat, breathing an irritated sigh. Okay, time to explain myself and hope she didn't kick my nuts.

"Look, I didn't bring you here to piss you off. Back at the docks… we made progress." I hoped. Mel's face was scrunched in distrust. I leaned back, resting a hand on the wheel, "I've been thinking about how Nolan knew you'd be alone, the day he abducted you. He could've sent someone to follow us, but I'd know if someone was tailing me. And it would've been easier to snatch you after a class. Which makes me think of something else. Something I should've checked for when our apartment was broken into."

"Someone broke in?" her eyes widened with a sheen of fear. She sat a little straighter. My jaw clamped shut. I couldn't tell her details: that someone wrote MURDERER on the mirror. Or… could I? I just couldn't share the message had been aimed at her. "Why? Were we home—was it during the night?"

"No. It was daytime. You were at College…" I went on, telling her about Reed and what my parents had done, taking away my money and us fighting over the issue because I was emotionally unstable. Finally, I told her about the message written in red.

Mel blinked, shaking her head.

"I don't even have lipstick. I don't like…"

"How they make your lips feel hot and sticky." I cut her off softly, my lips kicking up some at the blush spreading across her cheeks. "See? I know you," her eyes ducked mine after a heartbeat. "Anyway, tomorrow I'm going to swing by the apartment and search for any bugs. If that's okay with you?"

"Bugs?" She sounded incredulous, but after a beat, her voice sharpened with horror. No matter how she tried to hide it, I knew when Melissa was scared. "You think someone bugged our apartment?"

The words were out. Dropped between us like a ton of bricks. Silence stretched. I swear I heard her swallow as she stuck her hands between her knees. Our apartment. I waved the words away, slip of the tongue and all that shit.

I cleared my throat, not wanting to give discomfort away.

"It's possible," was the only thing I said.

Mel unbuckled her seatbelt and I copied her actions. On autopilot, I walked us to Aric's door, using the spare he'd given me. "Are you mad?"

Melissa stopped in the small foyer. She hugged her arms, still looking cold. Couldn't really blame her. She was wearing jean shorts and a sleeveless top. Suddenly, my mind went there and I saw her kissing that bastard. My fingers curled, nails carving into my palms so my temper would settle. He's kissed her, not the other way around. Still, the guy's lips slobbered all over her soft mouth, tracing the sexy birthmark—fuck. How hadn't I pulled a gun on him?

Mel tilted her head, frowning. She was staring avidly at my gone-white knuckles. Right. That's why I hadn't killed the guy. I was being a better man.

"I'm fine," I took a breather, a big one. Letting out all the anger because she was here—with me. Not at the rave. Here. "You want to borrow some clothes?"

"Yours?"

"If you want," I shrugged, but at the same time I thought of all the times she'd worn my jacket. Used my shampoo. Used my red sweater on our first night together, because she had weird sleeping habits. "Or you can borrow from Aric. I'm sure he won't mind."

Mel cocked her head in a cute fashion, coming closer.

"What?"

"I don't remember you being this polite. It's... strange." I laughed. An honest to God laugh. She'd told me once that had been Sam's reason for taking her, because he'd been watching us and he'd seen how she'd made me laugh. That's how rare me laughing is. Yet, it was the second time she'd made it happen tonight "I like your laugh." A mad blush chased her words. She pressed her lips together hastily, looking away. "I am cold..."

"Come with me, then." My footfalls didn't make a sound as I climbed the wooden stairs, Mel on my tail. I didn't know how to deal with this. She wasn't actually flirting, was she? You'd think that after twenty-three years of endless one-night stands I'd know if a girl was flirting. But this wasn't some girl—this was the girl. Who didn't remember our very first kiss.

Aric said anything could trigger her memories. Even a smell. My red sweater was long gone, along with my Mustang and the rest of our stuff, like the photograph Mel's parents left her. But I did have other shirts. I chose my bedroom. Mel stayed outside for a few seconds, wavering, shifting from foot to foot. I raised a brow her way, opening my drawer. I rummaged for a baggy sweater, coming up with a navy one.

"Here," I threw it at her. Mel's reflexes kicked in quickly, her hands going grabby.

"Thanks,"

"Want some sweats three times your size to go with it?" I joked.

Her lips splintered into a breathtaking smile. I went weak in the knees. Just weeks ago—hell, days ago, I thought I'd only see her cower before me, and now... Damn, God almighty. I wanted to rip that top in two, wanted to shimmy her shorts, trail hot kisses down her thighs, behind her knees. Wanted to kiss, lick, stroke every curve and edge her body offered. I wanted to make her mine all over.

"I'll take that as a yes," I managed in a raw tone, closing one drawer to open another. Pulling out a pair of sweats, I strived to hide the bulge in my pants. Somehow, I didn't think amnesiac Melissa would appreciate seeing it. "You can change in here, I'll... be downstairs." All but shoving the pants into her arms, I took big strides for the door, closing it behind me.

Mel's POV

Cinnamon. It filled my nose as I pulled Nathaniel's sweater over my head. It reminded me of Christmas and gingerbread cookies Patty used to bake all week up until Christmas. Aric's living room wasn't stuffy. It had a big flat screen, a genuine leather couch I was sitting on and a stereo that looked like it might have cost more than my bike. No joke. Nathaniel came back from his trip to the kitchen and I found myself tucking my legs underneath myself. He held out a steaming cup of milk that I gladly took, ignoring the shudder from when my fingertips brushed the hot ceramic.

"Thanks," I whispered. I blew at the steam. "I love milk."

"I know. It's one of the best drinks in the world, even better with cookies and cereal." Insert blush here. If Nathaniel was going out of his way to prove he'd been a boyfriend who paid attention, he was winning big time. "Personally, I'm not a fan, but whatever floats your boat."

"Okay. If we're giving this a shot... It's not fair that you know so much about me when I know so little about you."

"Ask away. I'm an open book." Somehow, I doubted that.

"Do you know... how to ride a bike?" Nathaniel's eyebrow arched. I shrugged feeling a little annoyed at his scrutinizing gaze.

"Of course. I also know how to pilot a chopper if you're interested? That way you don't need to ask some other douchebag for lessons."

"Other douchebag? I'm sorry, are you entitling yourself as one?"

"Why hide it? It's the only part of me you remember. So, I'm going with total honesty into this." Total honesty. I could appreciate that. I did. My parents had kept their lives, their work, from me. They'd lied with all the teeth in their mouths and I'd never suspected why they didn't just let me move with them to Cali. Turns out the reason was pretty dark and a part of me still couldn't believe they'd killed people for money. "I'll make this easier for you. My name's Nathaniel Belanger. Belanger is French—my Father's family originated in France. Yes, I do speak French and four other languages. I was born on sixteen of June of nineteen-ninety…"

"You're twenty-three," I cut him off, not sure why. Maybe just to show off my math skills.

"Right," his lips crooked in a smile. My fingers curled harder on the cup, breathing picking up a little too much at the sight. "I've traveled a lot, but I've lived in California all my life. When we moved in... together..." he ruffled his hair, stealing his gaze for a micro-second. My aquamarine eyes squinted at his hair. That... Was that familiar? "When we moved in, I sold my house back in San Diego."

"You traded great waves and sunny weather for New York? Did I find out some kinky fetish to blackmail you or something?"

Nathaniel sat to the front, facing the flat screen on the wall.

"Or something," he whispered. "You know, before I got to know you, I would've never told you these things. It's part of the rules. Assassin's never share details of themselves. But... I kept breaking rules for you. Reed was pissed at me when we got together."

"Why?"

"Because I kept dropping my guard. I was supposed to be keeping you safe, not taking you out to clubs."

"We went to a club?"

"Sure. We danced, we drank—I mean, I drank. You took it upon yourself to stay sober to get us to our motel room." I could see a jaw muscle jump and his profile grew somber. "I should've known better. That night... We were lucky an Order member hadn't caught our trail in Richmond." He tilted his head toward me, resting his chin against his shoulder. "Next day, Reed showed up with Anna. That's how she became our tag-along and how you found out about her. Does..." I blinked, waiting. His eyes were amber suns. "Does any of this ring a bell?"

I finished taking a long swig of my cooling milk. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, then shook my head. Nathaniel looked frustrated but stayed quiet, eyeing me. I wanted to apologize. Only thing was, me forgetting was directly my fault. Aric said so. It was because of trauma. Slowly, I edged closer to him. Nate's eyes snapped to attention, lingering on the birthmark above my lip.

"Why did you go to that rave, anyway?" Ah, I'd been waiting for the million-dollar question.

"I... Ever since I woke up, everyone's been telling me how things should be. How I should be. But I don't feel those things, like... I don't know. I think something has changed in me. Like, I dropped out of College. I would've never done that before. Or I would've never flirted with some random guy and decided I wanted a motorcycle." I saw Nathaniel's eyes spark at the mention of Jensen. Carefully, I bent forward, placing the mug on the floor. "I just wanted to dance. Have a good time." I shrugged, biting my bottom lip. Bad habits never died, whoops. "But... it wasn't really my scene. Some things are still the same, I guess."

Nathaniel studied me for a minute. I found I didn't mind his brandy eyes peeking at me, whether it was at my face or my eyes. I'd been around him enough the past week to be calm, to know in my gut he wouldn't snap and send me flying against a car hood. I could feel—almost taste—the allure. He was handsome, hadn't I thought his name was wasted on him, once? Yeah, I'd thought the name 'Nathaniel' belonged to an angel and he'd acted like a demon. But now... anything I remembered about Nathaniel didn't compute.

His eyelashes fluttered and he got to his feet, walking across the room for Aric's sizable stereo. I watched, transfixed, as his back muscles slithered under the t-shirt. Ogling had always been Anna's cup of tea. Had it been mine, too, when it came to him? Nathaniel turned, ash blonde bangs hanging over his forehead, he walked to my spot, hand outstretched.

"You can still do both," my ex-kidnapper turned ex-bodyguard told me. His eyes were swaying me to take his hand. I nibbled the inside of my cheek. I was curious what... what his touch would feel like. "I'll behave, promise." He said, starting to smile ruefully.

Stepping on the worry-worm making me walk a tightrope, I placed my hand in his. Nathaniel's fingers curled around it, pulling me off Aric's couch. Nathaniel pulled me closer, placing a hand on my waist. We were within breathing space of one another. My bottom lip drooped a little at the sight of his glinting eyes, they looked so warm. My free hand floated to his shoulder on its own.

We started swaying, slowly. Glancing into each other's eyes. I wondered what he was feeling. Loving someone who'd hurt me in the past... How hard had I fallen for him? I'd guess pretty hard. Even now, when all I remembered was his abuse, I felt a shimmer for Nathaniel. Little by little, my whole body relaxed and I was leaning the side of my head against his. My eyes closed. This felt right. His calloused hand in mine held some familiarity. Suddenly, I longed to remember his touch. On every part of me. Melissa, I scolded myself. Definitely not thoughts I was used to having. As if possessing some mental-link to me, his hand rode lower, pressing the small of my back. Our chests touched. Either my imagination was getting wild or Nathaniel actually let out a strangled sigh.

Nate gave me a gentle twirl. Then, I was pulled into his gravity, into his arms, putting us face to face like before. No, closer. Ragged breathing? Check. Heaving chest? Double check. Gazing deep into the whiskey colored irises of my supposed boyfriend? Triple check. Leaning in real slow and shaking—

A ringing noise blasted over the slow song he'd put on.

My fingers dug a tad deeper into his shoulder. The ringing came again. What...? A cellphone, remember those, Mel? They're used for calling people and take selfies? I shut my mouth. Releasing Nate. He looked about to murder someone, maybe the person calling, because when he pulled out his phone he cussed.

"What, Aric?" Oh yeah. He wanted to kill Aric for sure. Did I want to kill Aric? Well, not kill. But maybe punt-kick him? Kinda. "She's fine. What do you want?"

I fell back a couple of steps, sitting back on the couch, legs crossed. Milk completely forgotten. Nate's hot gaze was glued on me as he talked. I looked away, cheeks heated. When I told him I wanted to remember what we'd had, I hadn't meant: hey, let's do romance and I'll kiss you the first chance we get. That would've been wrong. What if I could never remember? What if... I sat there, stoic. I'd almost kissed him. Good God. How had I gone from 'I don't trust you' to 'I totally want to rub my face all over your face'. I frowned. Strange image, but my head was apparently malfunctioning.

Nathaniel cussed again drawing my aquamarine eyes to his face. He shoved his cell into the same pocket, mussing a hand through his ashen locks. Every drawn line screamed anger and the way he pinched his nose yelled exhaustion.

"Hey, what were you and Aric doing at the rave, anyway?" He'd never answered.

Nate looked at me. Emotions changed between raw desire and pain. Desire for me? Pain because Aric knocked our moment off course? He looked away furtively. My eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"You're hiding something from me." At that, Nate's eyes glued to my face revealing surprise. "I don't know how I know, but I do. Minutes ago, you told me you were only going to be honest, Nate. And if anything between us is going to work, I need to know I can trust you."

He blinked, then stared. Like he'd gotten tackled by a bus, getting the life squeezed out of him. I touched my face, unsure. Was there something wrong with it? I felt it. Nope. Couldn't say so.

I hiked a shoulder when he still wouldn't speak, "What? You're scaring me."

"You... called me Nate."

"I..." I guess I had. In my head, I'd been calling him that all night. Hadn't noticed... Sort of felt like breathing. I wouldn't let this derail me. If something was up, I needed to know. "Are you hiding something or not?"

Nate scowled, "Like you were?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Aric told me why you came around last week. You told me to ask him myself, remember?" He grinned, but it was twisted. Like he'd tasted something sour. "Have you gotten more texts? Don't lie."

The last thing I wanted was to argue. I took a deep breath, grabbing my phone off Aric's coffee table. I unlocked the screen and clicked on the unknown texts, forwarding the cell for him to see.

"I don't want lies," I explained as he scrolled through the creepy-ass messages. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything to you. I'm getting used to you being... nice." Nate's eyes slid to me, eyebrow arching in amusement. "Nice-ish..."

He snorted—the phone almost fell from his grasp. That's when I remembered something about the last text. Aric said his adoptive sister—Drew?—used to call him 'pet'. The look in his eyes was haunted. On impulse, I jumped, walking to where he was standing stiff as a board. I circled his wrist and our contact jostled him from whatever memory.

"I don't understand what this means—aside from the 'trouble in paradise' part." I did want to know more... "Aric told me your sister... she used to call you that?" I whispered, incapable of saying the word out loud. Somewhere in the confines of my brain I knew it hurt him. Plus, I just hated it. Plain and simple.

Nate nodded slowly, "She was messed up. Very, very messed up. Drew used to do things... when we were kids."

"What kind of things?" I refused to even acknowledge whatever scenarios my mind supplied.

He breathed haggardly, wishing I'd remember instead of making him relive everything.

"She'd beat me up when our parents weren't home. Which was... often. Everyone thought it was from training. Sometimes... she'd lock me in a room or a—a closet." My teeth gritted. He cleared his throat, keeping his voice crystal of fear, "I'm claustrophobic because of it."

He... She—that bitch! I didn't remember her, but I wish I could slap her across the face. Whoever killed her did a good deed. How could someone treat another human being so... so...! No wonder he'd been having fun hurting me, he'd been hurt for someone's amusement his entire childhood. I wasn't making excuses for Nathaniel, the behavior I remembered him having had been horrible, just because someone's awful to you, doesn't mean you should be. But I could understand. And now I wanted to stretch up and kiss him. Again. Releasing his wrist, I tilted my head.

"I'm sorry you had to grow up like that."

"I know," somehow, he found it in himself to bestow a soft smile on me. My insides churned. "We've been over this before, sweetheart." Right. Oddly enough, 'sweetheart' didn't make me want to kick his balls.

"I showed you the texts. Your turn."

"Melissa," he began warningly. I glared, crossing my arms. "Always so nosy." He muttered, but before I could say anything, he carried on. "Remember when I said we were working on getting Nolan the hell away from you?"

"Yes,"

"Well, we sort of failed. Big time. He's got some damning evidence against me and Aric. He got access to my contracts—the ones I did for the Hive? He's got them all."

"If he sends those to the police or worse—the FBI..." Nate wouldn't just go jail. He could be dealt the death penalty. Jesus. I wasn't sure what bothered me more, me being worried about a killer or Nolan having so much power over Nate and Aric's lives.

"Exactly. Since we dismantled The Order, his idea of revenge is making us help re-build it."

"Wait—! You're working for him?" Nathaniel looked ashamed. Anger flashed in his eyes before they fell on the floor. "Was that what you were doing at the rave?" He nodded.

"He's dealing drugs for now, starting small and focusing on another branch while there's still so much heat. He's taking his time training new recruits. Aric and I were overseeing the drug trades, making sure the rave went smooth. Nolan played a big part organizing that shebang."

Good God. "Are you telling me all our work was for nothing? The Order will just come back?"

"Not if we can help it, Mel. But right now, our hands are tied."

"What about Anna?" Fear spiked for her. "Is she working for him, too? Did Nolan get anything on her?"

Nathaniel shook his head, "She's not in his crosshairs. Funny thing, since he knows about her. Don't worry, Mel, she's been trained to kill. If anyone went after her, Anna could break their necks like she can snap a twig." But she wasn't bullet proof. "Aric needs me to go back." The statement was heavy. "I can't say no. You can take my room if you want, I'll just crash on the couch. If I catch any sleep tonight."

I didn't know how to say goodbye to him. My first impulse was to stand on my tip-toes and kiss his cheek. Taking it slow, I reprimanded myself.

I settled on, "I wish you didn't have to go. I… really enjoyed talking to you." That was good. Yes.

Nate didn't say a word, half-smiling as he grabbed the keys to Aric's car and house. I watched him go, heard him locking the door and sat on the couch with a pounding heart for reasons I couldn't remember.