Final Curtain

Nate's POV

Aric marched back inside the warehouse just as I finished tying a knocked-out Ashley with spare Zip-ties I'd found on the work table. I let the bitch fall on the floor, head cracking on the pavement. Whoops.

"We're going to need her alive."

"She's not going to die from a bump on the head." I saw Aric glare at the ribbon dancing down her hairline. I looked at the table. Two laptops and a desktop computer. On one laptop was a live-feed from the cameras Ashley saw us coming. The other laptop was shut off. I followed the thick wire as it disappeared underneath the table. I crouched, spotting a computer tower. "We should take that laptop and the tower."

"What about these?" Aric's eyes surveyed the gadgets. They were neatly organized. Five small cameras, more than a dozen bugs, SD memory cards and a frequency detector. I pocketed that. It would be useful for de-bugging Mel's apartment. Aric was more interested in a large box-like radio. "This is a NYPD mobile communication system radio. She's been helping Nolan move inside the city without getting spotted. And moving product, too, no doubt."

"Didn't your father deal in human trafficking?"

"He did," Aric spied me a look. "But Nolan's not as stupid as I thought. He wouldn't delve so deep this soon."

"Pacey?" I finally asked.

"Bullet to the head." He said dispassionately. I felt my gun burn against my back. I wanted to kill her for driving Melissa into a state of agony. I'd never seen her like that before. Not when I provoked her or roughed her up, not when Parker died. "You can't kill her just because you think it'll make Melissa happy. Think with your head, Nathaniel."

I stole my eyes from Ashley's unconscious form.

"Don't lecture me on what I should and shouldn't do. From where I'm standing, this is your fault. It's your fault this chick is in league with Nolan—why she set her sights on Mel. Because you killed her sister—"

He rounded on me, "I didn't kill Violet." Aric gritted in a steely voice. We stared at each other and I noticed how his chest was rising and falling quicker than usual. He was trying to keep cool, but failing. That saying was true: there is a first time for everything. "Nolan killed Violet. I burned her body to cover my tracks. It's not my fault her father chose to kill himself and her mother shut down because of it. I'm not responsible for choices other people make. I'm not responsible for some people being too weak minded to get over grieve and allow themselves to break. That's not on me, little brother." He paused, before spitting, "That's on them."

I stared at him, catching on. Earlier, in his little speech, Aric said he was to blame for everything Ashley's family withstood after Violet's death. I thought he'd meant it. But now... I saw he hadn't. He'd been acting it out, luring Ashley to aim and shoot him instead of Mel.

"Let's look for the explosives," I got back on track. "I need to know what we're dealing with." Triggering the explosion could be done with the push of a button. But blowing this joint would be risky, we were in a major city and Nolan would get a whiff of some shit being amiss. Aric and I found a total of four bombs in strategic places. I wasn't an architect but those were placed to make the whole structure crumble. "I'm going to call Reed."

I dialed him. This phone was untraceable, the line we were on was safe. Unless some dedicated, bored hackers decided to spy. Still, I would be using the protocol dialogue taught at the Hive. We had codes for various case scenarios. Reed picked up on the fourth ring. I watched Aric heave Ashley's prone body and carry her toward the exit, to stash her in the trunk, no doubt. I didn't give Reed many details, being short and direct to the point.

"I threw an awesome party, man." I started. In my mind, I could picture Reed straightening, ignoring whatever he'd been doing. "I'm going to need a cleaning crew." Code for: I need you to call the Hive branch in New York that deal with cover ups.

He made a sound, basically telling me it wouldn't be easy to pull those resources for me. A moment passed, though, Reed sighed over the line. "How wild did the party get?"

"It could've been worse, there are four bottles of whiskey left." Code for: four undetonated bombs. "I actually need a lift, I think I drank too much and my ass is freezing out here." Code for: there's a car that needs to disappear and there's a dead body.

"Fine, I'll give you a call once I'm there." Code for: I'll give you a call once the cleaning is done.

"Thanks, man." I hung up. I left the detonator on the work table, figuring the skilled people trained for shit situations like this would understand the TNT was rigged to blow with the use of the remote. Next, I pulled up my coordinates and sent them to Reed.

Aric and I unplugged the computers and tower and piled them into the Suzuki—next to a knocked-out Ashley. I avoided eye contact with Mel. She was making it easy. Her eyes were looking down at her hands, I noticed after climbing into the driver's seat. Before I turned around and started the engine, Anna's eyes met mine.

"Aric's not driving?"

I couldn't argue her surprise. He'd never tossed me any keys before, like I wouldn't have tossed him my Mustang keys... If that purring baby still existed.

"He seems distracted." It was the only thing I could provide. Aric and I weren't close, we were probably the strangest combo in house-mate history, but even I knew what was on my brother's mind. Violet. A lifetime ago, when Nolan strolled into a coffee shop like the second coming of Jesus Christ, he'd used that name—Violet. Aric hadn't lost it, no. But he had reacted to it, in Aric's own passive way.

I quickly explained Reed would take care of the rest. Everything inside the warehouse.

"Melissa," I avoided Anna's searching eyes. I could feel insecurity growing in her bones and I wasn't used to dealing with this new version of Anna. She'd been supportive ever since Mel's memory loss, the voice of reason when things threatened to explode between me and Aric. "Melissa, this isn't your fault." Asking if she was alright didn't even cross my mind. Because I knew she wasn't. And telling her it was going to be okay was bullshit.

Melissa tipped her head, eyes void and large on her oval face.

"I know. It was Ashley's." Her monotone rivaled mine—from before I met her. Before I allowed an emotional connection between us. It scared me. Shit, that wasn't right. Melissa wasn't a soulless machine and... Her chin tilted down as her paled eyes went back to staring at her bloody, vomited hands.

Me and Anna exchanged a quick worried glance. Anna broke off once Aric climbed in, shutting his door in a fit of rage. He buckled up, not saying a word.

"Go," he ordered when I still wouldn't start the car.

The engine noise was nothing like his Viper. It was soft. I snorted, what you expected from a family car. Sort of like Mel's Ford. I drove us away, stealing an occasional glance in the rearview mirror at Mel. She wouldn't look anywhere but at her hands. She didn't ask what would happen to Pacey's body, she didn't ask if his family would get to see his body or if Pacey would be thrown into the Hudson like fish food—she didn't react. I caught Anna eyeballing Aric's dark head. He didn't so much as twitch. I let out a long suffering sigh, keeping an eye on the road and traffic.

***

I felt uncomfortable, shifting my fingers along the wheel every two minutes, moving in my seat, adjusting my legs. The atmosphere was drenched in gloom and anger. Like a tornado was about to breakout beside me. That would be Aric. Then, there was Mel's eerily quiet and catatonic expression. She was too lifeless.

The drive to Queen's was, without uncertainty, the worst ride of my life.

I slid the car into Aric's garden. The red Viper was occupying the garage, so I had no choice but let the car die down, parking it just in front of the garage's door. Aric couldn't get out fast enough. Anna's door smack followed his. My head fell back into the headrest. Great, of all the times Aric could've been pissed about something—the one time he didn't stay calm and fucking collected—was the worst time possible.

I chanced a look at Mel, "Sweetheart," if Mel sounded like the old me, I sounded like her. I was treading lightly. "I know you're still figuring out where we stand..." I paused, unsure how to play her part. "I'm not trying to take advantage of you or anything, Mel. I genuinely care about you," Love you. "So, please—tell me what I can do. Because I can't stand to see you like this."

Mel didn't lift her eyes.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know." She turned her palms slowly, marveling them with numb eyes. "I think I should wash this off."

I heaved a breath. The only person I remembered losing was my mom. My emotions had ranged to bitter anger to heartbreaking sadness. I didn't understand: why? I resented her for leaving me, to the point where I willed myself to forget what she had looked like, that she ever existed. But sometimes, I would find myself impossibly alone, and would wonder where mom was. Would conjure her, would try to remember her voice. I had missed her more than anything in this God forsaken world. I had missed her so much and she'd been dead all these years. That feeling—of being abandoned—it had made me cold. Drew had only hardened me. Melissa could be cold, stubborn and altruistic to the point of self-destruction. Much like me when it came to her. But right now, Melissa looked a lot like she had, when she'd found out about Vincent raping her mother. She looked deader than most people I'd put down.

"Hold on," I opened the door, snatching the keys off the ignition. I grabbed Anna's arm as she walked out of the garage, having taken some equipment of Ashely's into Aric's house. "Here," I shoved the keys into her hand. "You two can manage to move that bitch alone. I'm helping Mel."

There was no room to argue. I walked away before Anna's mouth parted. I wrenched Mel's door open and her eyes glided towards me. I searched them for any spike of fear. There wasn't any. I reached for her wrist, tugging her out of the car, telling her to avoid putting her hands on anything. Or we'd have to clean up later. Melissa nodded, trailing beside me, her hands plastered on her ruined jeans. Shit…

"You need to take those off." I pointed at her shoes.

Mel looked behind her, seeing the bloody footprints leading from the car to the garage. I hoped Aric had more bleach. Melissa reached down, undoing the laces. She kicked them off and looked up at me as if seeking approval.

My heart gave a painful stretch.

"Let's go." I whispered.

We made it all the way to Aric's upstairs bathroom. Melissa stood there, in the middle of the spacious bathroom, staring at nothing in particular. Like she'd forgotten what she said about cleaning herself up. I sighed, turning to leave. I needed to get her some clean clothes—

"Why were you scared?"

I stopped.

"What?" I asked over a shoulder. She was staring at herself in the mirror now. Her dead stare kept on, unwavering.

"When I tried to grab her gun. You looked scared when you told Aric to take me away." She explained. My lips wanted to tip at her attention for detail. One of Mel's fortes when she drew or painted.

"Because I thought I couldn't stop you from doing something you'd regret. Again."

"You think I regretted killing Drew?"

"I know you did." I stated, twisting around. My neck was staring to hurt. "You went as far as hallucinating her, princess. It was destroying your sanity so badly you ran away from me and Anna. Because you thought you might hurt me."

Her head whipped my way all of a sudden.

"I killed her for you." Her tone was bland. "I killed Drew for you. I remembered. Bits and pieces. I got in touch with Aric—through Parker. Aric knew Drew had you and he took me there. I remember shooting her."

Of all the things to remember…

"I'm sorry, Melissa."

Her eyes slid to her reflection anew. I grimaced. I turned around and left, going for my bedroom. I found the clothes she'd worn last night and gathered them. My head was spinning with the fact that she'd remembered something. Even if it wasn't about us, it was a start. I turned the knob, walking in, without knocking or hesitating. I was too distracted…

I looked up at the ceiling after giving Mel a long once over. She'd been undressing. I walked in just as she'd tossed her bra at the sink.

I felt her come closer. Against all judgment, my cock twitched. I wasn't grieving Pacey—he hadn't meant squat to me. But I was concerned for Mel and… She was too close. Her breasts were literally brushing my chest. I kept my neck craned.

"You've seen me naked before." Yep, sure had. "I remembered something else," my head lowered. I kept my eyes fixed on her face. Melissa didn't look upset with me being here—with her naked. This wasn't good, some part of my brain whispered. "Pretending not to care about you was the hardest thing I've ever done." I blinked. That sounded familiar. "You said something like that to me. I don't know when. I just know it was you."

I looked down at her. Aric said trauma resulted in Mel shutting her memories away. Maybe Pacey's death would trigger the lock.

"Can you put those there?" she pointed at a counter. Next, she turned and strutted away. She kicked out of her dirty jeans.

I tossed my clothes onto the counter and kept my eyes on the tiled wall. "Need anything else?"

I heard the shower glass slid open, then closed. Water started running. I ruffled my hair, sighing. Guess that was a no. I ended up in Aric's sound-proofed bomb shelter. Ashley was hogtied, still unconscious. A nasty purple bruise was spreading around and beyond the gash on her forehead.

"How exactly did you knock her out?" Anna asked, looking from the bleached blond to me.

"Her head had a meet-and-greet with the pavement."

"Classy, Nate." She muttered with disapproval. "What if she has a concussion? Or internal bleeding? We can't take her to a hospital and expect no questions. We need her alive."

"She'll be fine," I hoped. Honestly, when I saw the state Mel was in and Ashley kept going off about things only Drew could've told her, I had snapped and got a little carried away. "Where's Aric?" Anna shrugged. I took the hint and changed subjects. "I had no idea Drew had someone. She wasn't capable of feelings—romantic ones."

"No. But you and I both know that sex doesn't require feelings." True. "This one didn't seem too broken up about Drew getting killed. I think they were using each other. Ashley needed to get closer to Aric. Through Drew, she got to know about you and Mel. Probably got in touch with The Order, too. Since we know Vincent hired Drew to take Elena and George out." It made sense.

"And Drew got to make people's lives hell. Her favorite game." I smirked, disgusted.

There was a beat of silence.

"I'm glad she's dead." Anna stated.

I breathed in, "Me too." I turned to look at Anna. "Mel remembers asking Aric to find me—after Drew took me. She remembers killing Drew. It's only bits and pieces—her words—but it's better than nothing."

Anna's face remained livid but she forced her lips to turn up, into a small smile.

"How is she?"

"I have no idea." I confessed, looking at Ashley but glaring through her. "After this—after Pacey—I don't think... Even if she remembers… I don't think she'll be the same."

"She wasn't the same person from six months ago, anyway."

"No, she wasn't. This time, though… She wasn't okay to start with, Anna. She locked away six months worth of memories because whatever hell Nolan put her through. Her mental state hasn't been good for the last month. This—" I cut myself off. I was started to shake. "She looks dead."

"Pacey is… was… the person Melissa trusted blindly. He was like a brother to her and he betrayed her. On top of that, he was killed before Mel could clear things up. She's in shock." Anna reasoned softly.

What if it was worse than shock? Melissa saw things before: her dead parents, Drew using a rat to torture a hit, Parker's severed ear, the list went on. She'd suffered torture at the hands of her biological father and half-brother, discovered her mother had been raped and she'd resulted of said sexual assault. She had overcome so much already. Would this be her breaking point?

Severe trauma changed people. I was a prime example.

"We need to know what she tells Nolan on the phone, right?" Anna snapped to attention. A shudder swept across her when she caught the stony glint in my eyes. "I'll make sure she cooperates. I won't need much. She may be smart, but her body isn't conditioned for pain." Getting the container number out of her had been easy-peasy.

"Nate—"

"I've been trying to avoid killing. Or anything that Melissa wouldn't approve of, but this isn't for money. This girl isn't an innocent. This is to keep Mel safe and when it's about Melissa I don't give a crap about who gets hurt. I'll make Ashley talk. I'm the best suited."

***

Ashley had been awake for less than two hours and I was in the midst of pulling out her index fingernail. The pliers were dripping blood from having pulled out her thumbnail half an hour ago. I'd tightened a leather belt around her head, shoving the band into her mouth, making sure the tongue was under it. So that she couldn't bite it. The wide tarp spread underneath us was spotty with red splotches. Twice now she retched, but hadn't thrown up at the last second. Her eyes were bloodshot. The red lipstick smudged across her chin and cheeks. Her hair was clinging to her sweaty face.

"I need to know what you tell Nolan when he calls. That's all I want." I repeated my speech throughout our little soiree. She heaved at me. "You're protecting a guy who doesn't give a shit if you live or die."

Ashley looked somewhere else. Like that would stop me from peeling the nail all the way. It didn't. It came loose after two more tugs. It dropped beside the bloody thumbnail. Ashley didn't hold the scream. Spit hit my face and this time she started choking because her vomit wasn't going back down. I untied the belt quickly. She rocked forward, falling over, puking. Her arms were still tied together and so were her legs. She rolled onto her side, struggling not to choke on her own puke. Mucus dripped down her lips. The left side of her face was caked in bile.

"Do yourself a favor and work with me." I intoned coldly. I scuffed my boot on the floor, cleaning some vomit. "I'm not going to stop torturing you. You knew Drew, you know a lot about what she did to me. Did she tell you how much she enjoyed teaching me ways to inflict pain and keep the person alive for weeks? Months, even."

Ashley heaved through her nose. I could tell it wasn't working too well, the nasal cavity was obstructed by snot.

"You've already been caught. Your plan for revenge against Aric is done." I crouched. I made sure to keep the pliers in her line of vision. "Tell me what you say to Nolan when he calls…"

"I…" she gurgled. "I call him." She spat quickly, like talking hurt. I'd tied the belt pretty tight, her jaw probably felt like splitting in two.

"Did you call him today?"

Ashley rolled her head. Hair got caught in the vomit.

"…yes."

I smiled. It was a frigid grin.

"How do I know you're not lying to me?" I saw her pupils double in size. Ah, the fight or flight response. "You managed to deceive Melissa and me—especially me. Then again, I wasn't on the lookout for a deranged girl with an old vendetta against my brother."

I grabbed a handful of hair, uncaring of getting vomit on my hands. Ashley shut her eyes against the tearing force—I forced her onto her knees. I got my face up-close and personal to hers. My nostrils flared at the acrid stink on her.

"Look at me," I whispered in a guttural voice. Raw with anger. "I said: look at me." I repeated. I hated repeating myself. Her breathing pitched, but her eyes still wouldn't peel open. "Fucking look at me or I'll peel something other than nails." I hissed. I threw her aside viciously. The memory of Mel screaming she'd kill Ashley came at me—I couldn't escape it. "You've put Melissa through hell. I'll gladly torture you until there's nothing human left in you. Have you seen people like that? Reduced to nothing. Worse than slobbering animals, begging to live when they don't know what life is anymore. Drew domesticated a guy once. Do you know what that means? She broke him to the point where he'd enjoy getting the shit beaten out of him." Ashley tried to wriggle away from me. I followed her, relentless. "Did she ever share those stories? No? Well, I was there for most of them. One time, she started burning a girl's skin with oil. It went on for days. Each day, Drew picked a new body part to burn. And after all her body was scorched, Drew began skinning her." Ashley was yelling for me to stop now. I read the terrified look in her eyes all too well. I'd worn it around Drew so many times. "That girl didn't learn to enjoy it, no. She begged Drew to kill her." Drew hadn't killed her—directly. The girl's heart stopped one day. From all the adrenaline and abuse. "Is that how you want to end up, Ashley?"

If Ashley could think straight, maybe she'd say I didn't have that long to torture her. If Nolan didn't hear from her tomorrow, he would know something was wrong and hunt us down. But Ashley wasn't thinking clearly now, she'd been reduced to a shaking leaf at my feet.

I drew closer, my shadow engulfed her as I stood over her menacingly. I bent, grabbing the belt off the floor. In a lighting reflex, I was behind her and the belt was around her neck. I buckled it and tightened until it looked like a collar. I kept tugging it harder, making it smaller. I watched leather dent her skin. It became dented and the skin went from porcelain to red in a couple of minutes. I measured my grip, allowing her gulps of air between the asphyxiation.

For a minute, she really struggled. Moving her body the best she could. For a minute, I thought about finishing her. Melissa wanted her dead. But keeping her alive was necessary. After that minute, I released the belt. Ashley crumbled again. This time, she laid unmoving. The only sounds coming from her were pitiful coughs and whizzes as she fought for breath in her lungs. I unbuckled the belt, tossing it out of range.

I got up. I tipped her body to the side. If her eyes had been bloodshot before, I couldn't describe how they looked now. She could barely keep them open. Light sensitivity. Guess I would be leaving the light on.

"Let's take a break," I said smoothly. "Think about our chat." I kicked away the pliers. "I'm starving. I think I'm eating pizza. Do you like pizza?" Ashley heaved, eyes closed. I snorted. "Not a big fan, I guess. Oh, well. More pizza for me." I picked up on the small croaks. Her trying to talk. Denying food was a basic torture method. "Think about it Ashley. Work with me and this stops. Think about it." I let linger as I opened the double doors and getting out of the small space.

It was a small miracle that I hadn't freaked down there for so long. Venting my phobia on her helped. I slipped the chains around the handles and secured them with the heavy lock. I hadn't seen Mel since I left her in the shower. I wanted to see her as soon as I walked inside the house, but no luck. I went upstairs. I was hungry, but no way was I eating anything before showering and changing.

I went straight for the bathroom. I got naked, tossing my clothes into the sink. I needed to get rid of them. Just to be on the safe side. Assassins spent a lot of money on clothes and shoes. I took a quick shower, not needing to linger with double-edged thoughts on an empty stomach. I grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around my waist. I walked out, walked for my bedroom and stopped after cracking the door open.

Melissa was inside. She was sitting on the edge of my bed, her fingers digging into the bedspread, eyes on the floor. How long had she been here? Sitting like that? Her reaction time—lifting her head to look at the parted door—suggested she'd been absorbed for a long time.

My hand dove for the knotted towel. I made sure it wouldn't fall when I walked in. I shut the door.

"You were torturing her."

I licked my lips, "Yes."

"Did it work?"

"It's working." I moved to the vanity. I dug out clean boxers and a pair of sweats.

"What did you do?"

"You don't want to know, sweetheart." I turned around expecting her to bite her lip at the sight of me. She didn't. Mel kept an unnerving stare on my face. "Melissa," I breathed. Like a prayer. "Please turn around so I can put some clothes on."

Blinking for what felt like the first time in forever today, Mel turned away. Her long hair falling over her shoulder, creating a shield. I felt like a prude. Any other time, I would've teased the hell out of her or taken advantage of Mel's lack of caring of nudity. Taking the high road sucked. I tossed the towel onto the vanity, pulling on my boxers and sweats.

"What did you do?" she asked again. I caught her peeking over a shoulder. "Are you done? Or are you afraid I'll faint if I get an eyeful of your chest?"

I smirked.

"I'm done. And I'm not discussing torture methods with you."

"Why not?"

"Because while my chest won't make you faint, the gore and blood will—" I froze. Realization hitting me square in the chest like two tons of bricks. "You didn't faint. You saw his blood—you were covered in it… You didn't even look green." During our drive, Melissa hadn't stopped staring at her blood covered hands. I hadn't put it together until now. She shouldn't have been able to do that without passing out. "How the hell?"

"I don't know. It wasn't the first time I didn't feel squeamish. Ever since I woke up without my memories it's been like that. I got a paper cut the other day and didn't feel the tiniest bit nauseous at the sight." Melissa squinted at the wall behind me. "Maybe I'm broken."

"What?" it whisked past my lips.

She shrugged, like she was saying 'who knows?'. I took a seat next to her, keeping a few inches between us.

"You're not broken."

"I'm something," she stated sadly. "I don't know what's changed. I just know something is different. Like something cracked."

I couldn't stop it. My hand cupped her cheek and I leaned closer. Mel reacted. She didn't bite my hand or jump halfway across the room. Her aquamarine eyes gazed into mine, surprised. I saw shadowy bruises under them. From crying and emotional exhaustion.

"Whatever you are now, whatever is happening inside your head, it's okay. You'll always be the person I love."

Her eyes shone brightly, like a giant bulb was shining down on them. Thinking it over, I dropped my hand in a silent apology. I was just about to slide away, leave for the kitchen… Her small hand wrapped around my wrist. I cocked my head down at her, questions burning in my eyes. She gave me a grave look.

"Stay," Mel's voice—the same voice etched into my brain from the night we first kissed—sounded out softly. "Just for a little while. Will you… stay?"

"Always," I whispered sitting back down. I slid closer when she still wouldn't let go. Melissa was only satisfied when there wasn't an inch between our shoulders. The weight of her head against my shoulder made me relax. "As long as you want me, I'll stay."