Queen of The Reapers by Jessa Halliwell
Thirteen
As Cyrus,Tristan, Atlas, and I load up into Cyrus’ Jeep Wrangler, I try not to think about Ezra’s absence. He knew what time we were leaving for Melanie’s, but when I knocked on his door this morning to retrieve him, I found his bed noticeably cold. I expected things to blow over overnight, but maybe the things I said pushed him too far. Calling him damaged beyond repair is one of the many mistakes I’ve made so far.
This morning, instead of using the time to catch up on sleep like the others, I spent most of my time thinking about Al and those mistakes that led us here. The guys were right. I needed to get a hold of myself, to rein my emotions back in before I faced Melanie. But in order to do that, I needed to let myself feel them. Even if just for a moment.
So at 4am this morning, cloaked in the darkness of my room, I allowed myself a moment of weakness. One last time to wallow in all the fucking mistakes I made. To feel all the pain, hurt, and sadness I’ve been trying so hard to suppress. To cry until there were no more tears left to fall.
In a lot of ways, everything that happened last night still feels like a dream. Like some crazy ass twisted nightmare I can’t seem to find my way out of. But when I close my eyes, I can still feel Dimitri’s fingers digging into my wrists. And even after a long hot shower, the scent of charred flesh still lingers on my skin.
Yesterday was hell, in more ways than one. But today's a new day, and I'm determined more than ever to get my sister back.
The plan the guys came up with is simple. Whoever took Alex doesn't know we know she's gone yet. Which means, if it was Melanie, showing up at her house out of the blue like this could be our last opportunity to catch her off guard. To distract her long enough to hack into her phone and see if she had anything to do with it.
It’s a fool-proof plan. At least, it will be if I can keep my emotions in check.
In the hours since Alex’s kidnapping, my hate towards Melanie has only grown. Before all this, I didn’t know shit about her. She was just a woman who hated me because of Atlas. But taking my sister makes it personal. This isn’t some bullshit rivalry over a man. Alex is my family, and I trusted Melanie, or at the very least, I started to.
I know she has something to do with this, and I’d love nothing more than to beat the information out of her. But if I want the truth, I have to play nice. I’m not letting my hate for her fuck up what could be our only chance of getting my sister back.
* * *
Atlas pullsthe SUV to a slow stop in front of Melanie’s entrance gate and rolls down his window. On the drive up here, I realized just how stupid my whole “I’ll go by myself” idea actually was. The place is like Fort Knox. There’s a monstrous 12ft wall wrapped around the entire perimeter and, as if that wasn't enough of a deterrent, I’ve spotted at least ten different armed guards walking the property line in the last five minutes. There’s no way in hell anyone is getting into her home without a written invitation.
A young man in a guard’s uniform steps out of the guard station and approaches us. Even hidden under his navy baseball cap, I can tell he looks young. 19, 20 maybe. He levels his eyes on our car and as soon as he spots Atlas in the driver's seat, recognition flickers across his face almost immediately.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Cole.” He says, reaching through the window to shake Atlas’ hand. “New car?”
“My brother’s.” Atlas says, nodding his head towards Cyrus in the passenger seat. Cy gives the guard a small wave and his friendliest smile, and the kid visibly relaxes.
“Let me get you two all checked in and you’ll be on your way.” He glances down at his tablet, pulls up what looks like a calendar, and begins scrolling through it. After a few swipes, his smile falters and his dusty blonde brow furrows in confusion. “It doesn’t look like Ms. Diaz is expecting any visitors today.”
“It’s a bit of a surprise visit.” Atlas confesses, keeping the calm smile plastered on his face. “I can call her for you, if you'd like? But that may ruin the surprise.”
The guard hesitates, trying to decide between following protocol and not doing anything to piss off his boss. It’s obvious Mel runs a tight ship, and he’s having a hard time deciding which risk is worth taking.
“You know what, don't worry about it.” He caves, setting his tablet down. “I’m sure it'll be fine. You can just buzz her at the front door.”
“Thanks Tim,” Atlas retorts, throwing the car into drive. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course, Mr. Cole.” Tim says, nodding his head. “Have a good day!”
As Tim rushes to open the gate for us, Atlas rolls up his window and firmly wraps his fingers around the steering wheel. He flashes Tim one last easy smile before we glide past him and enter through the gates.
“That was easy.” Cyrus notes.
“Almost too easy.” Tristan says peering up at the house suspiciously.
“Perks of being her fiancé?” I muse.
“Perks of being persuasive.” Atlas bristles, clenching his jaw. “The engagement is off and you know it was nothing more than an arrangement of convenience.”
“Yeah.” I reply, with bitter sarcasm coating my tongue. “Tell that to her pyromaniac ass.”
“P.” Cyrus warns, silently reminding me to stay level headed.
“I know.” I say, exhaling an exasperated sigh.“I’m done.”
He’s right. We’re here for Alex, and letting Melanie get under my skin won’t bring me any closer to finding her.
“She isn’t ready.” Tristan huffs, talking about me as if I can’t hear him. “We’ll s… stay in the car. You two go in.”
“No.” I snap, glaring up at him. “I’ve got this, alright? It slipped out, but I won't let it happen again. We all need to be there for this plan to work.”
The three of them don't seem convinced, but when they say nothing else, I decide to keep quiet for the rest of the drive up the road. This plan will work, but if I slip again, there’s no way in hell they’re letting me be a part of it.
The architecture of Melanie’s home has the same Spanish influence as Maria’s Cantina, with a red tile roof, cream stucco walls, crisp archways, and bright pink and green bougainvillea plants climbing up the sides of the building.
The beauty of her home is a stark contrast to the devastation we saw only a few hours ago. The devastation she may very well be responsible for. Alex was the target, but if she was just going to take her, why kill so many innocent people in the process? Why be so fucking reckless?
Atlas pulls up to the main courtyard and throws the car into park. The four of us step out of the car and begin our walk up the long flight of terra cotta colored steps that lead to the second gate.
“Jesus.” I say, looking around at the guards carefully watching us. “She has more security than the four of you do.”
“She has a lot more enemies too.” Atlas remarks, ushering us up to the door.
Once we reach the last gate, it’s showtime. The guys all look at me and I nod my head and activate the call box. Within a few seconds, the blank screen flickers to life and Melanie’s face enters the frame.
“Hey.” She says, her voice sounding both surprised and suspicious as she eyes the four of us carefully. She isn’t wearing any makeup and her hair looks drenched. “What’s up?”
My lips form into a tight smile as she stares at me expectantly. I wasn’t expecting to be so upset at the sight of her. I want to scream in her face. To run in there, throw her down to the ground, and demand that she give me back my sister. But that isn’t part of the plan and if this is going to work, I’ve got to keep up the charade and the show must go on.
“Could we come in?” I ask, gesturing to the four of us. “I really wanted to come by and thank you. You know, for everything.”
Melanie cocks her head slightly as she assesses us through the screen. Her nose wrinkles and the fine lines between her eyebrows crease.
“Why the hell not?” She offers, buzzing us into the gate. “I’m almost finished with my laps. Come meet me by the pool.”
Once the gate clears, Atlas wraps his arm around the small of my back and escorts me through the grounds, with his brothers trailing a few feet behind us. It's probably a walk he’s done countless times in the years he’s known Melanie, but I try not to focus on that.
Once we reach the front door, a tall man in his early 30s opens the door and ushers us to the back of the house. He’s dressed casually, which is surprising because everyone else we’ve encountered has been in full uniform, but he’s the least of my worries.
As soon as she spots us walk out onto the back patio, Melanie makes a show of stepping out to greet us. She emerges from the pool in a white one piece that emphasizes her naturally tan skin and shakes her wet honey blonde hair. Tiny beads of water trickle down her toned athletic body as she steps towards us and even with no makeup, she's stunning.
“Thank you, Charles.” She offers, grabbing her towel as her eyes linger on him for a few seconds longer.
“No problem, Miss Diaz.” He says with an easy smile. “If you need anything else, just call.” He walks away and heads back into the house without another word.
Melanie watches him leave, and for a second, I wonder who he is. He wasn't familiar with Atlas like Tim was, so he must be new. But what exactly is his job? Before I get too off-track, I shut those thoughts down. We're here for one thing, and one thing only: Alex.
“Thanks for agreeing to see us. Could we talk?” I ask, nodding my head towards her garden. “Alone?”
“Sure.” She says, hesitantly as she finishes towel-drying her hair.
This is all part of the plan the guys came up with. Out of the four of us, I’m the only one who can try to get her alone without raising any suspicions. While I distract her, Tristan is going to hack into her phone and see if he can find anything while the other two distract her guards.
Melanie leads us to the garden and once we’re out of earshot she speaks up. “I know I said we should hang out, but honestly a text would’ve been nice. I definitely didn’t mean for you to show up at my house whenever you want.”
“I would’ve texted,” I say, trying to keep the conversation going, “but I don’t have your number.”
“Hand it over.” She says, giving me her open palm. My eyes flash to her palm then back to her face, and I stare at her like she’s sprouted another head. “Your cell phone.” She says, cocking a brow. “If you’re going to text me, you’ll need my number.”
I slip my newly recovered cell phone out of my pocket, unlock it, and hand it over to her. Melanie opens the messages app and quickly shoots herself a text. “There you go.” She says, handing it back to me. “Now you have no excuse not to text first.”
“Thanks.” I say, flashing her a fake smile. “I know I should’ve reached out first. It's just after everything that happened, I feel like we’ve bonded…”
The next words in the script I practiced escapes me as Melanie turns her head slightly and my eyes latch onto the three fresh red stripes across her left cheek. Stripes that look an awful lot like violent scratch marks.
I try to take a calming breath, but I can't even get enough air in my lungs. Those marks weren't there before. They're fresh. My sister must have scratched her right before she ordered her fucking men to drag her out of that motel room. I know Alex. She wouldn’t go quietly, she would fight with everything she had.
Fuck this. There's no need to continue the charade. I have all the proof I need. The marks on her face are too symmetrical to be from an accident and too thick to be from a pet. They’re vicious and angry and will probably leave scars.
The world stops moving as dark and putrid rage seeps into me. Filling my mind with nothing but violent anger. I painfully squeeze my fists and the numbness feels like it’s seeping from my fingers all the way down into my toes. I can't feel anything, or hear anything else. All I see is red.
I don't say anything as I glare at her. I couldn't form words even if I wanted to. I am so in enraged, so mother fucking angry that all rational thought completely vanishes.
I fist Mel’s wet hair in a painful vise and yank her to the ground in one rage-filled motion. Her back cracks against the concrete and her shocked expression quickly turns into realization when she locks eyes with me. She knows I know. The horror is written all over her face, and like an animal, I pounce. My left hand wraps her long blonde hair around my wrist as my right hand curls into a fist. I throw my full body weight into a punch and her head rears back as she cries out. I almost feel bad as I watch the blood ooze from her lip, but I can’t stop, even if I wanted to.
A distant voice screams at me, but it’s like I have tunnel vision. I want to see more blood. I want to watch it spill all over this expensive pearlescent tile and drip down from the garden into her ostentatious infinity pool. The second she touched my sister, she asked for it. I don't care that I shouldn't be doing this. I don't care that it's stupid and dangerous. She wanted to hurt me and now I’m going to hurt her.
A bullet zips by my shoulder, narrowly missing me by a few inches and I look up and freeze.
“That one was a warning.” Charles says, pressing the barrel of a hot .45 to my forehead. “Next time, I won’t miss. Get the fuck up, now.”
I crawl off of Melanie on shaky knees. It’s just me, him, and Melanie and, as he helps her to her feet, I realize just how fucked I am.
“Are you okay?” He clips, checking on Mel, but keeping his eyes firmly locked on me.
She stares at him for a few moments. Her face is a mixture of shock and disbelief. “I’m fine.” She says, blinking back the tears welling in her eyes as she looks up at him. “Thank you, Charles.”
“What should I do with her?” He asks, glaring down at me.
Melanie’s eyes flick to me, and she gives me an empty stare. There’s no anger behind her eyes at all, only remorse.
“She’s left me no choice.” She says, looking down at the ground. “Kill her.”
Charles gives Melanie a firm nod, and he raises his gun to my forehead with deathly precision. I close my eyes. It’s a cowardly move, but I don’t want the barrel of a gun to be the last thing I see before I die.
This was always going to be the outcome. I knew that the second I curled my fist around her hair and threw her to the ground. I'm behind enemy lines, and even if she didn't want me to die today, the disrespect I showed her can’t just go unanswered. I attacked her in her own home. That action alone is unforgivable.
I hear the click of a gun cocking and I say a silent prayer as my body trembles uncontrollably. This is it. I’m so sorry, Al.
“I commend you on your commitment to the job, Charles.” Atlas’ voice booms and my eyes fly open. “But if you harm a single hair on her head, I'll have no choice but to blow yours off.”
* * *
Melanie hissesas the bag of ice touches her swollen lip. She’s seated on one of her lounge chairs as her bodyguard Charles leans over her and tends to her swollen lip.
“Sorry, Miss Diaz.” Charles says, tucking a long strand of honey blonde hair behind her ear. “I know it hurts, but we have to stop the swelling.”
She looks up at him, and for a moment her eyes soften. “Thanks, Charles.” She says, clearing her throat. “Could you give us some space? I have a few things I need to discuss with my friends.”
Charles gives the four of us a warning glare before giving her a slight bow and quietly retreating into the house.
The way she emphasized the word ‘friends’ makes me feel like shit. I stand by the edge of the pool and wrap my hands around myself. Everyone else is surrounding her, but I can’t stomach the idea of coming face to face with her.
Once the guys arrived, we were at a standstill. Melanie called for more security and the guys jumped in to explain what happened before things got more out of hand. She cancelled the call for reinforcements, but things between us are still far from friendly.
If I had followed the plan like I was supposed to, I would’ve found out that the guys had cleared her of any wrongdoing within minutes of us leaving them behind. According to her cell records, she’s been home for the last two nights and hasn’t been in contact with anyone outside of her compound for the last few days. She didn’t take Alex and I feel like such an idiot for assuming she did.
“Let’s go over this again.” She says, cutting her eyes at me. “You thought I kidnapped your sister?”
“Yeah.” I confess as embarrassment flames my cheeks. “I did. But I realize now how stupid that was.”
“You don’t say.” She mumbles with an eye-roll.
Cyrus takes a seat on the lounge beside hers and studies her for a moment. “Where were you last night?” He asks. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
Melanie throws him a vicious glare as she readjusts the ice pack. “It’s like I already told you.” She huffs, closing her eyes as she leans back into her lounge. “I was home last night. You can ask Charles for the video footage to prove it. Your psycho girlfriend made a fucking mistake.”
“And the s… scratches on your face?” Tristan asks, squinting his eyes to get a better look at them.
“Happened two days ago.” She says, bitterly. “You know, when I was helping you guys save her stupid ass. Remind me again why I did that?”
“Because we would’ve killed you, if you didn’t.” Atlas clips before letting out a heavy sigh. “How did it happen?”
“After you guys left, Jessie saw an opportunity to escape, and she ran with it. Luckily, after a minor scuffle, I was able to take her down.”
Atlas studies her for a second. “She’s telling the truth.” He says, turning to look out at the infinity pool.
“Of course I am. I didn’t even know crazy pants had a sister until you guys mentioned it two days ago. Aside from having no reason to do it, I wouldn’t have had enough time to find her, let alone pull off something that horrific.”
She’s right. And if I had just come into this with a clear head, I would’ve seen that. Not only did it not make sense for her to go after Alex, but she had no time to make it happen.
“Then who else would target her sister?” Cyrus asks, looking back and forth between the two of us.
Melanie smirks and slowly opens her eyes before glaring at me. “How do you know your sister was the target?”
My brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Isn't it obvious?” She scoffs, flipping her hair back as she sits up in her seat. “I mean, I don’t blame you for being dense. It seems to be part of your charm. But you guys have been in this game for years. How do you not see it? A motel room gets trashed. Who’s the target?”
“The occupant.” The twins retort in unison.
“What’s your point, Mel?” Atlas asks, brushing off her not-so-subtle dig at my intelligence.
“One, maybe two people had a big enough issue with Stevie to make something like this happen. One is rotting in prison, courtesy of moi. You’re welcome, by the way. And the other is sitting in front of you with a rock solid alibi. What does that tell you?”
“It’s someone else.” Atlas says, rubbing his chin. “We know that, but there isn't anyone else who knows about her sister.”
“My point exactly.” She says, with a smug smirk. Seeing the confusion on all of our faces, Melanie shakes her head and sits up in her chair before elaborating. “What if her sister wasn't the intended target?”
“What do you mean?” Tris asks, cocking his head at her. “This was s… some kind of mistake?”
“You said it yourself.” She retorts, shrugging her shoulders. “Stevie's enemies are all accounted for, but what about yours?”
“That's impossible.” Cyrus says dismissively. “Even if it is one of our enemies, how the hell would they know who her sister is?”
“Therein lies her mistake.” Melanie says, leveling her eyes on me. “Tell me, Stevie… who’s the room registered to?”
My jaw slacks, and my pulse skyrockets. I don't want to believe it, but everything she’s saying makes sense. I caused this. I'm the reason my sister was taken. I spent so much time blaming everyone else, but it was me all along. I'm the monster. Inadvertently or not, I led The Reapers’ enemies to my sister. Whatever happens to her from here on out is because of me and the choices I made.
“This attack wasn’t someone trying to get back at her, it was someone getting back at the four of you. I'm surprised this didn't click for you sooner, then again, you’ve never really had anything worth taking. Until now.”
The three of them stand there in silence. Their hard faces, completely unreadable. But they know as well as I do that she's right.
“You practically own one of the wealthiest cities in California.” Mel adds. “That kind of power comes with a price. And it looks like Stevie's little sister is the one paying for it.”
After a few moments of silence, Atlas is the first to speak up. There's a storm of emotions behind his eyes, but his expression gives nothing away.
“I’m sorry about this, Mel.” He says, changing the subject as he rakes a hand through his hair. “We should’ve never brought you into this.”
Melanie scoffs at his apology and turns away.
“I don’t need your sympathy.” She hisses, laying back down in her chair. “I need you to get the fuck off of my property. This was fun, but the next time you decide to show up at my house again, uninvited, I’ll kill you myself.”