Page 2 of Overdosed: Her Dark Side
I saw her face before my eyes every goddamn second of every goddamn day. Whenever I heard her name, my heartbeat accelerated. It felt like my heart would burst out of my chest and break into millions of pieces all over again. Always the same. Like a never-ending cycle.
The pain of losing her was still there. It never left.
Damn. I never thought I could fall for a woman this hard. I lost my mind for her, that’s for sure.
Had she felt the same? I guess I’d never know.
She left, making sure she would leave no trace after her. And maybe, I should’ve accepted this for how it was. Perhaps she had moved on with somebody else. Perhaps, with him. Callan. After all, he was her first, unrequited love, her first boyfriend. Too bad he was also a two-faced bastard I once considered my best friend. My brother. I helped him when he was at his lowest, trusted him with my life, made him my right-hand man and he betrayed me the first chance he got.
Fuck. I can’t even think of that.
But it was an option. And frankly, a highly possible one.
And yet, here I was. Still thinking of her. Not knowing if she was safe, where she was—or with whom—was the worst. It was killing me from within. I should’ve moved on. Forgotten about her.
But was it possible to unlove someone?
For me, it wasn’t. I knew this pain would never leave. I knew I couldn’t stop loving her.
Perhaps, this love is the repentance of my sins.
I took a turn, pulling off the highway. “Let Her Go” by Passenger played on the radio. Its lyrics seemed to haunt me lately.
A male voice then rumbled through the radio, “We eagerly await Karl Vergoossen’s upcoming charity event. He’s renowned for his extravagance, and this year he’s decided to surprise the event attendees with a hint of mystery. Everyone is expected to wear a Venetian mask. Isn’t it exciting? All funds raised will benefit orphanages…”
I turned off the car engine, arriving at my father’s estate.
Finally, silence.
I couldn’t stand hearing more news about my father’s charity gala, and it seemed like every station was airing it. Needless to say, after my fiancée’s mysterious disappearance, being in the spotlight had become unbearable. I’d had my fill of fucking paparazzi, reading rumors about me in the newspapers and hearing my name in the gossip news.
I stepped out of my car, my gaze landing on my father’s new residence in Hudson Valley. The night was chilly, but the sky was clear. Full of glimmering stars. She was one of them. My mother. She was one of the stars shining against the dark sky. I missed her now more than ever. I wished she was here. Everything would’ve been so different now. Easier.
I exhaled a heavy sigh. It was one of the very few times I showed up at my father’s in three years. Since Melanie disappeared. I knew I couldn’t blame my father for that. After all, I had agreed to his fucked-up revenge plan. At the same time, I couldn’t get it out of my head that if it wasn’t for his desire to destroy Dedrick Atwood in such a twisted way, Melanie would still be here with me.
I didn’t want to blame my father for my sins. But I didn’t want to be a pawn in his games anymore.
I knew my father’s reasons. Deep down, I understood why he was so obsessed with his vendetta. But it was all so fucked up. I, for sure, would’ve handled things differently. If another man hurt my woman, I wouldn’t have waited twenty years. I would’ve killed the bastard right on the spot with my bare hands. Maybe I was an untamed savage. Annihilated animal. But, sure as fuck, I wouldn’t have dragged my kid into all this shit as my father did. That was why I’d decided to cut ties with him.
“Shane.”
I turned to Anders, who’d just got out of his Bugatti, parked behind me in the drive. One of the few things my half-brother and I had in common was a taste for high-end, fast cars.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he stated, scrutinizing me. It felt as though his gaze tried to pierce through the thick layers of indifference and coldness that had grown on me over the past years. “You haven’t seen our father very much since, well, that night.”
I cocked my head, my gaze assessing him. He hadn’t changed since I last saw him. Unlike me, he wasn’t heavily inked. Only a small wrist tattoo peeked from under a leather sleeve of the black jacket he wore. No piercings either. He seemed so well put together. Much like me before I lost Melanie, the light guiding me through this darkness called my life.
“I’m only here because of the charity.” My tone was low and stern. Frankly, I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here.
Anders raised his finger to his chin, his head tilting. He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. “So, how are you holding up? I mean, it’s been three years, no?” He stretched his arms casually as if trying to release some tension. It seemed much like he was plotting some twisted scheme in his mind, and I had a hunch it involved me.
I scoffed. “We both know you don’t give a fuck. Come on. Let’s get this over with.” I tossed the words over my shoulder as I headed inside my father’s mansion, which perfectly reflected his love for extravagance.
I entered a two-story library, inside the home with Anders right behind me. Black walls contrasted oak floors and my father’s red formal shirt. He sat on a cream leather chair with his glasses on his nose, reading. His grayish hair was neatly combed back as always. He, too, hadn’t aged a day.
“Well, well. I must capture this sight with a picture.” He rose to his feet, taking off his glasses. “Both of my sons, arm by arm, in my house. I started doubting I’d see this again before I die.”
Another thing that hadn’t changed a bit. Sarcasm still ran in his blood.
