Final Curtain

Nate's POV

Having hostages was too much work. But keeping hostages for torture? It was horrible. Watching Ashley piss in a bucket wasn't how I'd imagined spending my morning. I couldn't just let taker inside to use our bathroom and the other option was letting her piss herself. I guess I should be thankful, she hadn't taken a shit yet.

Now, she was re-chained, curled up in a pool of blood and vomit. Part of me wanted to change that tarp for a new one. The assassin in me knew the stench would help her realized how fucked she actually was. In the last hour, I'd pulled out another fingernail, then burned the beds of her fingers. That last one was the chip that broke her armor. I started asking questions, demanding to know everything she did for Nolan. Words spilled like vomit, quickly and thrown together, leaving me to sort through the chunks to gather some meaning. I was at it for hours. Most of it we already knew. Aric was right about Ashley helping his dipshit brother navigating the city under police radar; Nolan hadn't known about Ashley's plan to kill Mel; Ashley had told Nolan about Mel's amnesia.

By the time I crouched and she inched away on the dirty tarp, Ashley was a sniveling mess. I honestly thought it wouldn't take this long to break her. Bravo, bitch, I thought bitterly.

"Just one last thing. For now." I shot down the impulse to cover my nose. "When you call Nolan what do you say?"

She was done. It was written across her face. Her lips were dried and cracked, like she hadn't had water in days. Didn't surprise me, with all the vomit and blood.

"Do yourself a favor and cooperate." My lips melted into an unkind smile. "I'll be better to you."

Ashley suffered through a cough when she went to speak. Shutting her ultra-sensitive, sleep-deprived eyes, she dragged out, "…th-the del-iveries are… g-going… well…"

"That's it?"

"…yes." She breathed.

I got up. I could tell her eyes were following me. I didn't stop. I left the bomb shelter, locking it. I took a big whiff of fresh air. I got a hold of my shaky fingers. Side effect from being in a small underground space for too long.

"You look pale," my eyes snapped open. "You should eat, little brother, keep up your strength. Melissa needs you on tip-top condition."

Aric was leaning on the garage door. Me not noticing he'd been there before he made himself known just went to show how disoriented I was.

"Where is she?"

"Inside. We had a productive morning. While you were down there with Drew's old flame, Melissa and I went over to her apartment. We debugged the place. Then we went through Ashley's place and brought back another computer. She's listening to the recordings now."

"Only one computer?"

"There was nothing else worth collecting." Aric leaned away from the white mechanical door. "Any progress?"

"The deliveries are going well." Aric's left eyebrow quirked. "That's what she says to Nolan. The deliveries are going well. It's done." Just in time for today's call. It was time to play good cop. "I'm getting her some water and food in a few. We'll make the call when she doesn't sound like an old woman on her deathbed."

Aric trailed behind as I went inside the kitchen. I washed my hands in the sink using detergent. The first thing I did once they were dry was pull out my pack, pluck a cigarette and light it. The first drag was a slice of heaven. I was strung too tight, a copper wire about to break.

"What?" I mumbled when Aric kept a stern expression. "I'm stressed. This helps. So unless you want to torture Ashley yourself, leave my smoking alone."

"You're a nuisance," he shot back. I pretended not to listen, taking a longer drag. "Melissa asked me to train her. Again. What happened between you two—this morning?"

I almost choked as another batch of nicotine invaded my airways. I waved a hand in front of my face as smoke left through my mouth and nose. Aric looked mighty satisfied.

"That's none of your business."

"She's my little sister, I'd say that makes it my business." Nope, it really didn't. "Aw, did you kids kiss and make-up?" he mocked.

"And I'm the nuisance..." I muttered. "Do me a favor and keep Mel distracted."

Aric tossed stuff out of the fridge and onto the counter. Cheese, ham, lettuce, tomato… Sure. I was worrying about Melissa's mental state and torturing a girl and Aric was about to make a sandwich. Priorities. I finished my smoke and flicked it to the sink, washing it and ash down the drain. I filled a glass with tap water and walked for the door, snatching Ashley's burner phone from a kitchen drawer as I went. I slid the wooden plank and opened the lock, sliding the chains from around the handlebars.

Ashley's breathing was noisy, but a welcome distraction from the smallish space we found ourselves shut in. I hadn't even made it all the way down and already her eyes were wide with longing, enamored with the cup in my hand.

"Here's the deal," I said with no reservations. "You're going to drink this water and once you get a steady voice, we're calling Nolan on your burner. You're going to tell him exactly what I say and let him know everything is onkey-dorey with your little code. Say anything—anything at all—off script and you'll be in for a world of pain. I've been merciful until now, honey, I guarantee it."

I bent down to yank the chains holding her together. Her body skidded along dried blood and bile. Her wincing did nothing to halt me. I grabbed a handful of greased hair, forcing Ashley on her knees, earning another yelp. I fisted my hand, keeping her head from drooping.

"I'm not fucking around, Ashley."

My hold made it impossible for her to nod.

"I got it…" she squeaked out. Her words trailed together.

I prayed she did. Being down here, doing this, was harder than I thought it would be. Doing the deed was the easy part and that's what got my skin crawling. I'd been raised to this. To kill, to hurt, to not feel. I'd been trying to get away from these teachings… And how easily I fell into them. Like when I fought in Ben's ring, this felt comfortable and safe. On some level.

I saw doubt flicker across Ashley's eyes. I crashed the cup's rim to her cut lips. Whatever she'd been considering evaporated, replaced by a need to survive I understood well. She drank greedily—water trailed down her chin, falling on her disgusting clothes and smeared skin.

"Please… more…" she begged trying to break free of me, lurching forward towards the cup. I set it down behind me. It was half full.

"In a minute." I told her. I held her head at a sharp angle, forcing her to look at me. "You were going to kill Mel because Aric cares about her and she's his sister. Poetic justice. You blame him for drawing The Order to your little town or city—whatever. Fair enough. You didn't come this far without knowing that Nolan pulled the trigger on your sister, though. You weren't even surprised when Aric told you. So, I don't believe for a second that your vendetta only includes Aric." Her right eye—the one with subconjunctival hemorrhage—widened considerably. Bingo. "Nolan… Nolan doesn't care about anything. Maybe he cared about his twin—Riley? But she's long gone." I paused. "You've been gaining Nolan's trust by helping him rebuild, while getting closer to Mel and Aric. Your plan: punish Aric by taking away the sister he loves. Then, you turn on Nolan. Betray his trust and kill him."

"Drew was… right. You… are smart." The way she said it sounded sarcastic.

"I have my moments," I retorted breezily. "What I don't understand was how you hoped to survive me and Aric after shooting Mel. We wouldn't have let you walk out—"

"You wouldn't," she whispered with a little glint in her eye. Her voice was low, but less raspy. "Aric has more… self-preservation than… you. He wouldn't have killed me or let you… kill me." I wanted to say that was faulty thinking, but maybe not. After all, Nolan killed his girlfriend and he hadn't killed him, either.

I decided to let the subject die.

"Obviously, Mel's not going to die for your little revenge plot, but I'm more than willing to kill Nolan." Ashley curled her lower lip at me. I shrugged. I grabbed the cup and let her finish it. I repeated a short speech for her to share with Nolan. We practiced a couple of times, until her voice didn't break and she could say full sentences. "Give a good performance…" I let the 'or else' linger in the heavy air around us.

She nodded slowly. I dialed the name she told me—Landon. It was an anagram. Rearrange the letters and drop the D and you got Nolan. He picked up on the fourth ring, just like Ashley said he would. I put the cell to her ear and gave her a icy glare.

***

I came into the kitchen through the garage. I opened a drawer and dropped the burner inside. Ashley had done just as I told her to. Good, because I could feel my stomach roll in protest. I needed to eat anything.

I saw a plate sitting on the island. With a sandwich. First, I thought I was hallucinating. I blinked—still there. Okay… I washed my hands, rubbing until my skin turned pink. I turned around and the sandwich was still real. Either fairy godmothers were real or Aric left this. I hoped it was the latter, because if not, I had a real shitty fairy godmother. I inched my hand for the plate—like it would come alive and rip my hand off—when I heard footsteps above me. Too clumsy to be Aric's. Melissa.

I smiled tiredly. I snatched the plate and leaned against the counter, eating. Who made a sandwich and didn't eat it? Aric was weird. Light steps drove my eyes to the kitchen's threshold. Aric came in wearing a pricey silk shirt and tailored jeans.

"We called Nolan."

"And?"

"She did what I told her." I glared at what I was eating. "Sorry, I was hungry."

"Yeah, mate, that's why I left it for you." Huh. Had I trespassed into the Twilight Zone? "I'm going out. Nolan's sending me somewhere very classy tonight. Do you know a bloke called Martin Simons? He's the CEO of a holding company that launders money for several crime organizations. My father never used this company for money laundering and Nolan's hoping to convince Martin to work with him…" a frown showed up on Aric's face. "Are you listening to me?"

No. Yes. I was… confused.

"I'm… listening." I cleared my throat. "Simons' company is… It launders dirty money and Nolan wants in with that crowd. Why are you going?"

"In case the meeting goes south."

"Doesn't he have other goons for that?"

"Probably. But Nolan's a cock." Aric dug out his untraceable cell, checking something. "The meeting's going down in a restaurant in downtown Manhattan." He stuffed the phone into a back pocket. "I'll be having dinner a few tables away from Nolan and Martin. Everything should go smoothly. Martin's made it this far on his discretion. He's not the type to threaten criminals."

"Break a leg?"

With a smirk, Aric left for the garage, "I hope not to break any legs—mine or anyone's." I saw the keys to the Suzuki in his hand. Low profile car.

I stared blankly at the wall, feeling stupid.

"Wow, what did that sandwich do to you?" Melissa's words made me jerk—I bumped my hip against the marble counter. I glared down at the food and saw my fingers had dug into the bread, making four holes.

I finished eating it. She gave me weird glances as I did. It was then I remembered kissing her and almost choked on the final bite. Her eyes widened—I patted my chest, coughing. I felt her take the plate from my hand before it fell and broke. Her small hand rubbed my back as I coughed.

"Thanks," I waved at her to stop. "I'm fine." I didn't want to share why I almost choked myself to death and thankfully Melissa didn't ask. She wanted to know if I'd managed to pry the info we needed to keep ourselves in the clear with Nolan. I told her about the call and about what Aric had been called in to do.

Her nose crinkled.

"How do we find Drew's body?"

Hearing Melissa speak about a dead body so lightly sounded wrong. Our early fight hadn't pulled Melissa away from the dark precipice she kept hovering since she laid eyes on Pacey. She wasn't hassling me about going to see my handy work on Ashley, though, so I'd take that as a win.

"That's next on my list to ask our honored guest." I smirked out of habit. "I won't be going down there anytime soon, though. I thought we could spend some quality time together—after I shower." I was surprised she could stand this close to me—I smelled ripe.

Mel perked up, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"I was listening to some recordings—from before I got selective amnesia." Her lips didn't transform into a smile, but I knew that shimmer in her eye. She was pleased with herself. "I know more about you now."

My lips broadened into a smile at her secret giddiness.

"Is that right?"

"Mmm-hmm," Mel leaned her hip on the counter, same as me. "I know you like it when I call you Nathan, because no one else ever does. I only ever call you that when I'm…" she came closer. Mel's fingers slid along the smooth marble, brushing mine. "When I'm really happy with you."

I knew exactly when she called me Nathan. "If that's what you want to call it."

"I like Nathan," Mel mussed innocently. Her aquamarine eyes spoke another language entirely. My eyes became hooded—I fought off a groan. "You used to wake me up for college and make me breakfast. I didn't know you could cook. I thought you were like Aric…" she waved at the microwave with a mock sigh that got me chuckling. "Can you tell me more things about us? I… want to feel closer to you."

I almost lost it. My fingers curled into a fist to keep from reaching out and repeating this morning's affair. Kissing Melissa after going so long without had been worth the wait and then some. Those memories she got back yesterday must have been tightly linked to her feelings for me. Otherwise, she would've been pissed that I kissed her.

"Your wish is my command."

I succeeded in making Mel blush for the second time today. It was a major achievement, considering how apathetic and nonchalant she'd been in the bathroom: stripping naked and standing before me shamelessly. Every reaction I got out of her was a step away from the abysm.

"Whatever you say, bodyguard." The way she fanned her eyelids at the word bodyguard got me hard. Weird, I know. Conclusion: absolutely everything Melissa did or say got my blood buzzing, pooling somewhere south of my brain.

"I won't take long." I murmured as the edge of my lips tipping into a devilish smirk.

I left her in the kitchen with reluctance. I wanted to make sure she wouldn't go off the rails like this morning. I knew better than anyone how Mel could be wild and unpredictable when her emotions were haywire. I could feel a looming headache just thinking of all the times she'd gone missing while in my care. I tossed today's clothes in the filled-to-the-brim industrial bag. I needed to show Mel that I trusted her. I couldn't simply state that she was still the person I loved, that she wasn't broken, and worry that her mind would split every second. Forcing myself into the shower, I let the warm—almost blistering—water run over my hair and skin. My muscles uncoiled.

I leaned my scalding back on the cool tiles.

Drew was on my mind. I snorted with disdain. Not exactly the thoughts I wanted while in the shower… The thoughts were unnerving and persistent, like hissing snakes, circling me. Torturing Ashley brought up a lot of feelings and memories, especially of my departed adoptive sister and her so called family time. I'd seen Drew do some nasty, horrendous things. Sometimes, I would crawl into bed shivering. The first time I was forced to watch her, I'd been twelve. Melissa hit the jackpot this morning—a photo of Drew should appear next to the word sadistic in the dictionary. The things she did to me were more about psychological trauma than physical harm. Growing more and more disturbed by the floating memories, I decided to hurry along.

Ten minutes later, I was marching into the living room squeaky clean. Mel was curled up on the couch wearing a tight camisole and skinny black trousers that clung to her body like mad. How hadn't I noticed that before? She glanced up from her sketchpad.

"You like hot showers?" it sounded more like a statement. I frowned at her. "Your skin's flushed." Always with the details, this one.

"It's been a long week." I sat down, keeping some distance between us. "Can I see what you're working on?"

Melissa's lips did something like a spasm. Like they wanted to pull into a smile, but her facial muscles had forgotten which way was up. I hid my heartbreak by fabricating a soft smile of my own. She handed me the sketch. Glancing down at the thick paper, I saw a face I hadn't seen in a long time.

"Your mother," I said thickly. "It's perfect, Mel. You really have talent." I don't think I'd ever praised her, not like this.

Like a kitten, Mel crept up beside me, thinking she was being a smooth cat burglar. My eye was on her as she slid closer. And closer. And closer. Another inch. A little more and… I turned my face towards hers the minute the couch sunk under her little weight. She looked adorably startled and pissed that I hadn't been caught off guard. I set her pad on the coffee table, never taking my eyes off her. Mel's wavered between me and the drawing.

"What's going through your mind right now?"

Mel's lips parted an inch. A little intake of breath. Melissa lifted a hand. Her fingers grazed my forehead as she pinned wavy hair from my forehead. It toppled back into place three seconds later. She looked like an annoyed six-year old about to puff her cheeks.

"Probably things that shouldn't." She whispered honestly. "Before you came down I was thinking about my mom. That's pretty obvious, huh? I don't know why, exactly. I just… suddenly…"

"Missed her," I finished. She nodded looking ashen. "I think some feelings are pouring in. Feelings from before the amnesia. Even if you haven't remembered anything else… maybe it opened a door? Does it make sense?" we should probably ask Aric, since he majored in Psychology.

"It makes sense. Anna told me I liked them—my parents—more after everything that happened. Why's that?"

I shared everything from before—about her parents. I told her they used to keep tabs on her, on her life, hobbies and friends through Anna. I watched my tongue when talking about why Elena and George had been so determined to end The Order. Melissa knew Vincent was her biological father, but she didn't know she was product of a rape. I hoped that never came back to haunt her. Then I told her about me. Again. The whole shebang. It was just as hard to share this time around. She listened quietly, pressing her arm into mine before we both leaned back into the couch. Then, her chin landed on my shoulder and Melissa kept close attention as I spoke in a hushed tone, telling her about what really happened to my birthmother mom—Aric's mom—that she was killed by Vincent.

"I kind of want to kick Aric's balls." That tore a smirk from me. "Anna told me a summarized version of how we found a book with names. She said you freaked out because your mom was registered as an Order member and Aric was written down as her son." I nodded. "But you two seem to be getting along nicely now."

The sandwich jumped to mind. It seemed idiotic to be happy about something so insignificantly small. Only it wasn't that small to me. Drew would let me starve sometimes—or I'd be left alone with no one to cook me anything for days, living on chips and sandwiches, until I decided to say 'fuck it' to the fear of burning down the house and started messing around with the stove. That's how I became such an excellent cook.

"I don't want to talk about Aric." Mel gave me a pointed glare. "Hey, you said you wanted to know more about me—about us. I'm trying to keep things on the right track."

"Don't mock me, bodyguard." A sexy grin stretched across my face. "What?" she mouthed.

"Nothing," I said, but the grin stayed.

Mel narrowed her eyes. She sat up a little straighter, looking down at me. Her eyes grew softer.

"Tell me something new."

"New?" I intoned.

"Yes, new. Something you never told me before—pre-amnesia." Melissa's eyes fell on her twisting fingers. A bright flush traveled along her neck, brightening her olive cheeks. "I feel a little… jealous. Of her—of me from before. God, that sounds stupid, doesn't it? How can you be jealous of yourself?" her shoulders drew in as my attentive eyes kept committing this moment to memory. "You're telling me all these things and now—deep down—I feel them. The memories. They're scratching and nagging at this little dent… but no matter what, it's like I can't force them to play out. It feels like I'm split in two. There's a Melissa who had shitty things happen to her and then she got to fall for you. Got to keep pieces of you and she's keeping those pieces for herself, leaving me with nothing. So… I want a piece of you she never had."

I was so in love with this woman. If I hadn't been before, I would've fallen right now.

I slipped a hand behind her neck. It put an end to her cute babbling. I drew her closer to my chest, letting my hand slide down her slim frame and circle her lithe waist. Mel ended up glued to my side, head resting on my right peck and face looking up.

"There's a lot I haven't told you, princess, but they're not happy stories." I trudged the toxic waste that was my childhood and adolescence. I tripped on one she might like, it wasn't happy, but it was comforting and she guest-starred. Somewhat. "Sometimes John and Sara—my adoptive parents—went on conferences for the Land Development Company—the cover up for the Hive. Most times Drew and I stayed alone. She was five years older, so when I was adopted, she was thirteen. This one time, though, Drew went with my parents. I was nine. John and Sara weren't parents who planned. Especially when it came to me. Sometimes they forgot I existed. So, when they decided to go and take Drew, they called your parents as last-minute babysitters." Melissa's mouth dropped. I chuckled. "Yeah, I know. I wouldn't picture your father babysitting anyone, either."

"You're a mind reader." She accused, eyes wide as china plates.

"Nah, I just spent enough time around George to know he wasn't exactly cuddly." A shadow crossed her startling bright eyes. I swallowed a wince. In the past, I resented Mel for getting a normal upbringing. Maybe some part of her resented me when it came to knowing parents. "I can think of something else."

"What? No! I'm fine—I am." She wasn't lying. Her voice was even, not a pitch higher like every time a lie dropped from her tasty mouth.

"Alright," I sighed. "Obviously, I was thrilled. Things were scary when Drew was in charge." I lowered my voice. "Elena was great. She made dinner, instead of ordering take out, like I'd gotten used to. Everything felt so normal… When I went to bed that first night, your mom went inside and tucked me in. No one ever did that—not since my mom." I looked across the room—at the stereo—feeling my throat strangely clogged up. I breathed slowly. "I started crying. Shaking. Maybe because I missed my mom. Maybe because I knew Drew would come back and your parents would leave me there—with her. I don't know. I cracked like a nut." My voice grew thicker. "I remember Elena held me and it made me cry harder. Your father looked floored—I think he never came inside my room. Just stood at the door, wearing a pity look." I hated that look now. Before, though, I wished they would pity me enough to take me away from the Armstrongs. "I don't know when I stopped crying. Your mother asked me a lot of questions. I was terrified to answer—especially when it came to Drew. Your parents never really liked her." I shared as an afterthought. "I breathe a word about getting locked in tiny rooms or anything else. I was too scared. Your mom stopped asking and sat there with me, telling me a story. Until I fell asleep."

Melissa's eyes were burning. I could see angry tears being pushed back.

"Nate," was her strangled response.

I steepled two fingers over her lips. Not done, my eyes chanted.

"She told me that story was her daughter's favorite. She said you probably didn't remember it. It was something about a princess and a blue donkey, I think." Mel's eyes squinted in concentration. Then shook her head, sadly. "I didn't fall asleep right after the story, though."

Her eyes were curious, "No?"

"No. I asked about this little girl who was so far away from all the chaos." My muscles bulged as I held her closer. "I asked Elena if you were as nice as she was. She said you were nicer. I didn't think that was possible. To me—at that moment—your mom was an angel. Then I asked something else." I trailed off.

Mel curled a fist in my sweater, wrinkling it, "What did you ask?" I enjoyed the view of her for a second. She looked more like herself—even before Nolan took her. Hanging on my words with a childlike glee.

"I asked if I could meet that girl."

Her fist unfurled. Her limp hand settled on my abs. Melissa stared at me with mute fascination, as if I'd told her where to find missing Picasso paintings.

Melissa's hand traveled upward, along my neck, then my jaw. She racked her nails across my stubble before leaning in and pressing her lips on mine. Leaving me stunned. The way she kissed hadn't changed. It felt rushed and desperate this time around. I went to lick her bottom lip for access, but she pulled away. I sat there, straddled by her, bemused. She threw her arms around my neck and buried her face in the space between my shoulder and neck. Relief flooded me. She was here, in my arms, not tipping into a precipice. I could anchor her—I would.

"I felt like kissing you, so I did." She husked in my ear, her lip brushing the hollow of it.

"I'm game for this spontaneous behavior."

Mel kept holding on.

"Thank you for giving me a piece of you."

I decided to crack the plaster wall of embarrassment I was feeling, "That sounds so dirty, sweetheart." She only snuggled closer—if it was possible.

When Melissa's arms fell away and she tipped back, I saw her eyes were dry, but alit. A tiny spark of joy danced in that previously void gaze.

"You didn't mean what you said this morning… about wishing my parents hadn't asked you to be my bodyguard?"

"Truthfully?" Melissa rolled her eyes. I smiled. "No, of course not. I say things I don't mean when I'm angry and… worried. You manage to make me feel both often." My hands were perched on her hips.

We just stayed there for a while, studying one another. My words from this morning came to life: whatever happens will happen. I was enjoying these happenings. I broke out of my daze once I felt soft fingers caressing my scalp. I let my head fall back as she kept on massaging it.

"I should've shared this would you ages ago. You're being so nice to me." I purred.

"Shut up," I took a slap to the shoulder. A deep laugh bubbled out of me. I watched her through slit eyes. "You look exhausted. You should sleep."

The relief was replaced by alarm bells, forcing my eyes to widen. I didn't want to leave Mel awake and alone—hell, I wouldn't fall asleep without knowing she was locked inside the room with me. I mustered my sweetest façade, tilting my head at her.

"Come with me upstairs."

"I want to finish my portrait." Mel shifted to get off me—I caught her wrist, tugging her close.

"I'll let you practice your nudes on me." As I spoke, my breath swayed russet strands against her nose. Her legs—on either side of mine—clamped shut. Oh, this Melissa was bolder. "Looks like your body agrees to my nudity."

"Shut up!" she repeated, flustered with herself and me. "I knew you were a jerk—somewhere." Mel hissed banging her hand against my inner thigh. Ouch, that one stung and hit a little close to home. "Hey…"

I grabbed her delicate hands, "Now, now, sweetheart. Don't go hurting old friends, hmm?" Mel caught on what I was implying casting her eyes down. If she were a cartoon, smoke would be coming come out of her ears.

Melissa moved her knee quickly. I was faster. I rolled her to the side, jumping from Aric's couch. The leather squeaked as Mel got herself sitting upright. I pushed down a chuckle at her ravaged hair. She blew long strands from her face.

"You're so obnoxious." Melissa fumed.

"But you like me." I threw out there. She didn't deny or confirm it. I was tempted to say she liked, liked me. "Come upstairs with me. I promise to keep my clothes on and keep my hands to myself like a good boy."

Melissa sighed when I wouldn't move from the room. Rooted on spot. She shook her head in clear annoyance, grabbing her sketchpad and pencils as she went. I watched her trudge up the stairs, shaking her delicious ass with every ascending step. She stopped at the middle—throwing a glare.

"Are you coming? Or are you going to stare at my butt all night?"

"You want an answer?"

Melissa gave up and kept climbing. I had missed teasing her. It almost felt like before—almost. Inside my current bedroom, Melissa sat on the floor leaning on the wall. She looked consumed by her mother's portrait. I didn't say a word, letting her do her thing. This could be good—missing Elena could bring more memories. Slowly, I shut the door. I looked at Mel. Still engrossed over the art. I turned the key, pulling it out. I curled my fingers around it and walked to the vanity. I opened the large drawer and placed the key under a shirt. I grabbed my sweats and began undressing. Through it all, Melissa was oblivious. I really didn't mind. Having her close by, doing what she loved, was more than enough for me.

I don't know when or if it was even real—a warm body slid in behind me. I felt something go around me. An arm?

"Sleep well, Nathan." Her little whisper trickled into my sub-conscious like sweet honey-suckle.