Touching Melody (A Forever First Novel) (31 page)

I quickly dial Evan’s number, but it goes to his voicemail. After the beep, I yell into the phone, “What the fuck is going on?” I press End and hand the phone back.

“Any ideas?” Agent Smythe asks.

There’s a house Evan’s family owns that’s been sitting empty for years. Evan and I use it to party once in a while. It’s the only place I can think of. “I have one.”

Maddie

There are gunshots and yelling somewhere above and behind me. I’m wondering who else Evan is hurting. Grateful that Kyle isn’t here.

The door behind me bursts open
, whipping my hair in my face.

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

“Check the prisoner.”

“Maddie! Freckles! Let me get by.” A familiar voice.

A sob escapes my throat. It’s Kyle. I’m relieved, and frightened, and sad, and horrified, and just plain worn out. Because it feels like everything in my life has been leading up to this moment. I was a pawn in a very twisted, very real chess game, and luckily
—or not so luckily—I didn’t die. But everyone else did. My mom and dad. My aunt and uncle.

Tears leak onto my face. Deep, heaving sobs escape my body. “Kyle. I-My…” I can’t find the words to tell him everything that’s happened.
How my heart is broken. That I’m relieved he’s okay.

Kyle

Seeing Maddie’s body tied to the chair, her face bruised and bloodied. It’s all I can do not to kill Evan. Once she’s untied, I lay her on the floor and rest her head in my lap. “She needs an ambulance,” I shout at no one in particular.

“We’ve called for one,” Agent Smythe says.

“Thank you.” I nod, and then return my focus to Maddie. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

She swallows; I can hear it. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

I shake my head. Tears line my lashes, and I clear my throat. Forcing myself to be strong for her. “You aren’t fine. And it’s my fault. I should’ve known.” That’s what it boils down to. What could I be such a fool? How did I not know what was going on with my family? I consider myself a man of the world. It turns out I don’t know shit.
Except that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Maddie happy and safe.

My biggest concern?
Did my father really kill her parents? And if he did, how could she ever love me? If the tables were turned, I might not be so understanding. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Kyle, I love you.” She takes my face between her hands. “You. The man you are. Not your father. Not your family. But you.” Her voice is tender, and I can’t hold back the tears any longer.

“I love you too.” 

35

Maddie

Remember the
Titans

I find myself in an interrogation room. My psychologist, Abigail, is here, as is another psychologist from the FBI. His name is Mr. Turner. Bitchy Spears is there too. Turns out she isn’t an English professor, but is in fact an agent for the FBI. Placed undercover four years ago, when Evan started school at the University of Bellam Springs. She’s been the agent in charge since my parents died all those years ago.

I give her my statement.

“Do you know where we can find this key?” she asks.

I squeeze my hands together. “It might be somewhere in my uncle’s truck or in the DVD case for
Remember the Titans
.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s just a guess. My uncle used to say it a lot at seemingly random times.” I shrug. “Other than that, I have no idea where else to look.”

“Let’s go check it out.”

“First, can you tell me about Kyle? I want to make sure he’s alright.” They took him away in handcuffs. Told me it was just protocol, and that they would release him as soon as they were done questioning him. I know he’s innocent, but I’m worried about where his mind is going. I told him it wasn’t his father who killed my parents, that it was actually his uncle. The news didn’t seem to lift his spirits any.

“Kyle is fine,” Bitchy Spears says. Her real name is
Smythe. She’ll always be Bitchy to me. “He hasn’t done anything wrong… surprisingly.” She grunts. “He certainly had plenty of chances.”

We pull up in front of my aunt and uncle’s house. It’s a blue two story with black shutters. The ache in my heart increases. Agent Spears pulls the tape off the front and I unlock the door.

Everything looks the same.
Clean. Modern. White walls. Large bone tile in the entryway. A grouping of mirrors over a sleek black entry table. I turn right to head toward the kitchen. Green apples, lemons and limes are in a black wire basket sitting atop the granite island. Clorox stings my nose. Like someone just cleaned.

I move to the garage door. Open it. Flip on the light. Uncle John’s black Titan looms large in its normal spot. Someone push
es the button to open the garage, letting in the bright light from outside.

It’s midday.

Abigail moves to stand next to me. She squeezes my arm, letting me know she’s there if I need her. I really appreciate it. Having her near has brought more comfort than I could’ve imagined.

“Search everything,” Bitchy says.

I stand back. Watch them rip through the truck like it’s a present on Christmas morning. One of the agents shouts, “Got something.”

The key turns out to belong to a safety deposit box at the Titan Federal Savings Bank. Inside are all sorts of incriminating information, tapes, and papers. Stuff that proves Kyle’s dad, Evan’s dad, and even my parents were part of a huge drug ring. In fact the FBI uncovers what turns out to be the largest police
-related drug ring ever exposed in the United States.

More than a million pounds of drugs are confiscated. Evan, his father, and twenty other employees of the Bellam Springs
Police Department are arrested over the next several weeks. 

It makes me sad.

Agent Bitchy and her partner drive Abigail and me back to their offices. I stare out the window, watching the houses, the trees, and the old buildings rush by. We’re in the old part of town, made to look like the Wild West. The fronts of the buildings are facades. I realize that’s how I feel about my parents. Everything I thought I knew about them was false. I can’t help but feel like my parents have died all over again. But it’s a different kind of death. I had this preconceived notion about what kind of people they were. They raised me to have values, to be good, do what’s right.

“How you holding up?” Abigail asks, patting my thigh.

I shrug, unable to look at her. Because words are too complicated right now.

“Your mom and dad were more than parents. They were people as well. And people make mistakes. That doesn’t mean the good memories you have of them should feel false. They’re real.
They loved you. Hold on to that, and realize that in the end they tried to do the right thing.”

I nod, amazed how well this woman knows me. It makes me think that maybe she should talk to Kyle. He might need to hear some of the same things. I can’t even imagine how painful this must be for him
, knowing his dad, his uncle, his cousin, and probably his aunt were part of this.

“I feel betrayed,” I blurt out, pressing my head against the cold glass. And realize that’s probably how Kyle feels as well.

“It’s understandable, Maddie.”

S
he leaves it at that and removes her hand from my thigh. I look at her. She gazes out the window, just as I’d been doing. I see sadness in her features, and for the first time wonder what kind of a life she lives. Does she have a husband? Children? We never talk about her.

I catch Bitchy regarding me in the rear view mirror and turn away. Her eyes look understanding, sympathetic, and I don’t like it. It doesn’t suit her. I prefer her bitchiness.

Kyle

The FBI questions me for hours until I decide I could fall asleep standing. My uncle and Evan are in custody, and that’s good because if I ever seen Evan again I’ll kill him.

What he did to Maddie is inexcusable. What he and my uncle have been doing behind my back is the worst kind of treachery. Even though I’m glad I didn’t know, I feel like I should have. Reliving the past, I think deep down I knew something was off, but I wanted to believe so damn bad that my dad wasn’t what people said. Turns out he was nothing more than a pawn in a scheme that has tentacles throughout the state.

At least my dad didn’t pull the trigger and kill Maddie’s parents. But he was there, which is unforgiveable. 

I hope Maddie does forgive me though
, because she’s all I’ve got left.

36

Maddie

You’re Amazing, Freckles

The theater is packed.
Heavy black curtains hang on either side of the large stage. Two black grand pianos grace center stage. Bright lights shine on them. Kyle and I wait in the wings.

Nervous butterflies flutter in my stomach.
I lick my bottom lip, painted and shiny with red gloss. All of my makeup is heavy tonight. While Gina applied it, she explained I needed the drama. She also put big curls in my hair.

From my position
on the stage I can see people milling about, chatting, smiling as they take their seats. They are dressed in gowns and tuxedoes. Lights along the walls are dimly lit, giving an air of sophistication to the entire room.

“Ready?”
Kyle asks, gracing me with one of his perfect smiles.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Sorry your aunt and uncle couldn’t be here.”

I shrug and my black dress rustles. “It’s okay.” And it is. Sure, I’m
sad my aunt and uncle can’t be here, but not too much. At least they’re alive. It was touch and go for several weeks. There was more than one close call. The bullet wound in my uncle was especially awful and caused a lot of internal damage. But after several surgeries, he’s doing better. He’ll recover. As will my aunt.

I’m beyond grateful.

Professor Jenkins walks by. “You’ll do great,” he says to Kyle and me as he walks on stage and steps in front of a microphone. He taps on it. “If you can all be seated.” He waits while the patrons sit. Clears his throat. “Our final performance of the night will be a piano duet with Maddelena Martin and Kyle Hadley. They are two of the best and brightest students I’ve ever had the pleasure to teach. Please put your hands together and welcome them on stage.”

He claps,
and those in the theater seats follow suit.

Kyle and I take the stage.
Me in my dress and ballet flats. Kyle in a black tux. I keep sneaking glances his way. He looks incredibly handsome.

“
Here we go,” Kyle says.

I follow and take a seat at one of two black grand
pianos situated on the stage. I squint momentarily, waiting for my eyes to adjust.

Kyle sits at his piano and looks at me. He
counts quietly. “One. Two. Three.” Then he begins to play. I watch the stress leave his features. He visibly relaxes. Music is his drug.