Micaden’s Madness

by Mason, V. F.

  Copyright © 2018 by V.F. Mason

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Hot Tree Editing

  Cover Design: Hang Le

  Photographer: Lindee Robinson

  Cover Model: Evan Cloyd

  To the power of love.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  8. Chapter Eight

  9. Chapter Nine

  10. Chapter Ten

  11. Chapter Eleven

  12. Chapter Twelve

  13. Chapter Thirteen

  14. Chapter Fourteen

  15. Chapter Fifteen

  16. Chapter Sixteen

  17. Chapter Seventeen

  18. Chapter Eighteen

  19. Chapter Nineteen

  20. Chapter Twenty

  21. Chapter Twenty-One

  22. Chapter Twenty-Two

  23. Chapter Twenty-Three

  24. Chapter Twenty-Four

  25. Chapter Twenty-Five

  26. Chapter Twenty-Six

  27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

  28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

  29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

  30. Chapter Thirty

  31. Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Also by V. F. Mason

  Contact

  Prologue

  Emerald

  With a loud splash, I plunge into the water, and instantly silence surrounds me, blocking the outside world away.

  I hold my breath, struggling and trying to wiggle my ankle free of the rope wrapped around it. The stone bag attached to it takes me farther and farther into the blue hole of the ocean while I hold my breath for as long as I can.

  My lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, and no matter how much I twist and try to reach the knot, I’m helpless against the water and its power.

  Looking around, I search for any source of help, even though it’s useless. I pray for some kind of divine intervention to rescue me from this nightmare that has become my reality, but nothing is in sight.

  Instead, the bag tugs on my foot harder, and I sink deeper.

  Finally, the tightening in my throat becomes unbearable and I close my eyes, succumbing to the darkness that ends it all.

  The war has ended.

  The victor was chosen.

  And no one got the spoils.

  Chapter One

  Somewhere in the world…

  April 2019

  Micaden

  The black garbage bag on the floor wrapped with tight rope shifts relentlessly while barely audible sounds come from it, probably begging.

  As if I care.

  Whistling loudly, I deliver another few hits with my baseball bat, and the bag slowly gets wet, if the liquid under it is any indication. “It’s embarrassing really, Ron. It’s just the beginning, and you’ve already wet your pants.” Sighing dramatically, I throw the bat on the floor and it clangs loudly as it rolls to the side. Then I grab the knife from my back pocket.

  Sharp, with serated edges in a medium size, it’s perfect for what I have planned next.

  Kneeling next to him, holding the knife with both hands, I stab it right in the middle of his gut. This time, his scream can be heard even through the damn gag. “A little patience, Ron. This is nothing compared to what awaits you,” I assure him, pulling out another knife and slicing the ropes along with the bag from him.

  Slowly, he comes into view, pale as fuck even though his skin is naturally tan; his black uniform’s soaked in blood, and fear etches his face. He mumbles something through the tape stuck to his mouth holding the gag, and I decide to help him out.

  “Here you go, Ron.” I pull it harshly, and he cries out in pain as a little bit of his skin along with blood ends up on the tape, his lips completely chapped and torn. “See? I can be nice when I want to.”

  Standing up, I grab his hair and raise him up with me. He breathes heavily, adding tears to everything else, and sways in my hold, but I only fist his hair harder. “Stand still before I break your legs.” He freezes immediately, and I push him in the direction of the pool a few feet away from us.

  Yes, building it inside my house, hidden from everyone, was truly a magnificent idea.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asks, then groans when I press on his head, indicating for him to sit on the chair located right on the edge of the pool.

  The minute his ass is on the seat, I wrap chains around his middle, hooking it to the heavy bag of stones. “I—I’m sorry,” he mumbles, clearing his throat. “You are mistaken. We’ve never met.”

  I smirk, tugging on the ropes, satisfied with their strength.

  Stepping back, I walk around to face him and rest my palm on the back of the chair, leaning closer to him. Sweat along with blood drips from his forehead down his nose and lips. “Ron, is it nice to forget your old friends?” He frowns, gazing into my face, but by his blank stare, I understand he still doesn’t recognize me.

  But then again, it’s hard to recognize a dead man.

  “I have a family. They need me.”

  “Considering your line of work, do you think this kind of talk works in such situations?” I ask, and he pales as desperation slowly sinks in, because he finally realizes there’s no escape.

  Pity, remorse, compassion. They don’t exist for me.

  At least, not for the people who betrayed me.

  “I could spend hours torturing you until you finally get it, but I won’t do that.” He exhales in relief, so I add, “Instead, you are just gonna choke while your lungs slowly fill with water.”

  He shakes his head, mumbling, “Please, I have two sons.” And I don’t give a fuck.

  But before he dies, I do want to feed his curiosity so he knows why God sent him to me. “Atonement comes one way or another, right, Ron?” His eyes widen and his mouth opens, probably wanting to say something, but I’m done with him.

  I’ve wasted more time than necessary already.

  I kick his chair harshly, and he plunges into the pool with a big splash, right after his scream of fear that dies in the water. I see how his body is slowly dragged farther and farther to the bottom of the pool where he struggles still, his head moving from side to side while he tugs on his arms, hoping for an escape.

  That’s what we humans do. Even when everything goes to shit and there’s no hope, we hold on to the belief that miraculously someone or something will come and save us.

  But they never do, and I found it out the hard way.

  A few seconds pass, and finally his body stills, his eyes wide open gazing at me from the bottom, and I mentally cross his name off the list.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I answer on the third ring. “Unexpected call.”

  Silence greets me for several beats before the person on the other end of the line speaks up. “Are you sure about this? There’s no going back.”

  Hollow laughter echoes through the space. A familiar hatred settles deep inside me, fed by fury that knows no mercy. “Oh, I’m sure.”

  Everyone has to pay for what they’ve done
to me.

  Especially her.

  Chapter Two

  New York, New York

  April 2019

  Emerald

  The sun shines brightly on the white-as-snow canvas, mesmerizing me with its purity, and my hands twitch to destroy it with color.

  Coming closer to the window, I open it up wide, and a strong wind almost knocks me on my ass, but thankfully I hold tightly to the windowsill. The nature is evidently in the middle of the storm, so rare for this time of year in New York, but it’s welcomed at the same time.

  The rain pours loudly against the sidewalk. The fresh smell of concrete penetrates my nose, and I inhale it sharply, wishing I had grabbed that cup of mint tea back in the kitchen.

  Studying the people rushing quickly seeking shelter, inspiration pops into my head, and I remove my jacket, roll up the sleeves of my sweater, and I’m about to grab the yellow brush ready to recreate the images around me.

  Only instead, my fingers wrap around a single pencil with a sharp end lying on the corner of the painting kit.

  In seconds, my hands, of their own accord, start to draw the bluest-like-the-ocean eyes, which gaze with mischief and love, light eyebrows that always give him a wistful expression, shoulder-length silky blond strands, dimples on the cheeks, and a five o'clock shadow, which adds to the wild yet sexy look that will drive girls crazy.

  With a heavy sigh, I continue to draw all the details of the person until my arms grow numb and the pencil falls to the ground.

  Stepping back, I study the drawing in front of me while the pain in my heart intensifies, though I can’t understand why.

  The most handsome man looks straight at me with a happiness only real love can provide.

  Different voices echo in my ears while my head starts to throb. Placing my fingers to my temples, I try to reach for something fleeting in my memory that nags at my mind, but at the same time doesn’t reveal its source.

  Huffing in frustration, I wonder if there’s a cure for the insanity that has settled in my brain for the last several months and disturbs my life.

  A loud knock on the door snaps my attention to it as Kaden enters, his eyes traveling to the drawing and turning darkish blue.

  He hates when I do that, and my explanation doesn’t help soothe the inferno raging in him whenever I mention my problem.

  I expect another lecture on focusing on my studies instead of this stupidity, as he calls it.

  However, he exhales heavily instead, hooks his thumbs in his pants pockets, and asks, “What do you need, Emerald?”

  My heart freezes but then speeds up again, while I search for the right words that will make him understand.

  It’s vitally important to me. “I need to go to the island.” He looks to the side, and I see his hands squeeze into fists, so I quickly add, “This story won’t leave me alone, Kaden. I have to go there and give it justice.”

  “You are a teacher. Painting is your fucking hobby. You are not a writer!” he shouts, but I shake my head, holding my chin high.

  “That’s true. But this story in my head won’t go, doesn’t go away. And I think it’s because I’m hiding from it. I want to write it. But for that, I need to go there to feel it all.”

  “It’s dangerous, and reckless.”

  My brows furrow at his words while confusion spreads through me. How can going to the island for the summer and writing a romance book be dangerous?

  “Kaden, I’ll go no matter what. But I would have preferred not to go with us fighting.”

  I love and trust my big brother with all my heart. He never clipped my wings or restricted my freedom, instead giving me all the opportunities in the world to be myself.

  He was there with me through it all. The broken bones. Loss of sixty percent of my sight. The reason I knew the drawing so well was because I drew it from my brain.

  I understand his protectiveness due to all my conditions and the danger that might await me in an unknown place, but when it borders on insanity? No freaking way.

  “You are not ready to face it, Emerald.”

  Once again, the riddles that confuse me somehow make him furious at the possibility of me “discovering” something huge.

  I lived as boring a life as I could. What could I possibly uncover?

  “Kaden—” He raises his hand, and I shut up, waiting for him to process it all.

  Finally he comes closer, palming my head and giving me a soft peck on my forehead. “Go. But always remember that sometimes there’s no choice in our actions.”

  Before I can comment on that, he hugs me and presses my cheek to his shoulder as he rocks me in his arms. It feels like he’s giving me the last hug ever or is afraid he’ll never get this opportunity again.

  Instead of dwelling on his weird state, I return the embrace and smile, because I can go there and finish this madness.

  Two star-crossed lovers in my head will get their story told.

  My life will go back to normal, and I’ll finally have peace.

  Micaden

  If madness has a name… it’s hers.

  Chapter Three

  From the pages of the book…

  Raising the ball above my head, I threw it up and hit it with my hand.

  It flew over the net, and another team hit it back, and so the game had begun.

  Volleyball was the only good thing about this whole forced vacation that my parents dumped on my head. Well, that and my painting classes with a local artist.

  Go visit your grandma, Emerald. She misses you.

  What a bunch of crap. Not that Nona didn't love me or anything. She was happy to see me, but considering she had a full summer fling going on with her neighbor, I seriously doubted she begged my parents for me.

  Needless to say, both of us were a bit disappointed, since I planned to spend my summer at the medical center helping Dr. Melanie there with her patients. Finishing high school one year early wasn't part of my plan, but it played out perfectly for me, since I could get hands-on experience and extra credits before attending college.

  But my overprotective parents worried I didn't get to enjoy my teenage years as I was supposed to, so they sent me here to have a “fun” summer with my peers before all the serious stuff in my life. No amount of begging would change their minds.

  Deep down though, I suspected they sent me here so I wouldn’t do any stupid shit while Dad prepared for his election campaign.

  “Em, check this out,” Olivia called from behind me, and I turned my head just in time to see her to do a star jump on the beach. Sighing in exasperation, I gave her a thumbs-up, and she beamed proudly.

  Who the hell did that in the middle of the game?

  Only my crazy best friend, and it was impossible not to giggle when she stumbled and fell on her ass. The girl had many talents, but being flexible wasn't one of them.

  “Watch out!” someone shouted, snapping my attention from my friend. A split second later, something hard hit my head. Piercing pain rushed through me, and I couldn't contain a scream as I laced my hands on my head and fell to my knees. Dizziness instantly washed over me.

  “Move,” a masculine voice ordered, and my eyes travelled up first to notice tanned legs in shorts and then a shirtless Scandinavian god, because how else was it possible to look so freaking hot, with long blond hair and a muscular chest?

  He kneeled in front of me and wrapped his hands around my neck, and for a second our eyes met.

  Even in my not-so-great state, it felt like everything around us faded away.

  “Oh, my,” I whispered as my breath hitched, and the next thing I knew, I spilled my lunch on his perfectly white shorts.

  “Oh, gross,” Olivia whimpered, and I could relate. Watching someone puke was a disgusting thing, but right at that moment, I couldn't care less, because I seriously felt like dying.

  “She might have a concussion. We need to get her to a hospital,” the same husky voice said, and then he tilted my head back and wiped it with his s
hirt that surprisingly he had in the back pocket of his shorts. He threw it away, and the next thing I knew, he lifted me in his arms, and I had no other choice but to wrap my weak arms around his neck to keep my balance.

  “I’m sorry, girly. I had no idea where I threw that boomerang,” another voice said apologetically, but I couldn't find strength in me to follow it.

  “Should have been paying attention.” The husky voice hardened; he didn't seem pleased with the person right now.

  “Brochan, man, come on….” The words trailed out as oblivion took me, but the name kept on playing in my mind.

  Brochan.

  What a beautiful name.

  Island, United States

  July 2019

  Emerald

  Adjusting the laptop on my lap better, I rest my back against the car seat and bite my lip, disliking this chapter. “You all right, miss?” Peter, our driver, asks while he navigates the car between several tight turns before heading on the straight road, with the wind blowing through the open windows.

  “A bit frustrated right now,” I reply honestly, and he chuckles when I send him a wink.

  The man is in his late sixties, has seven grandkids and a beloved wife who lives in the suburbs and supports his idea of retirement, which is working seven hours a day as a driver for wealthy families. Kaden and I love him so much that he has been in our family for the last ten years, or at least everyone claims so.

  After the accident, some of my memories are hazy, but thankfully my brother is always there when I need help.