Coldhearted (9781311888433)

by Matthews, Melanie

  “Yes,” she replied truthfully. “She looks like me,” Edie added. “I think perhaps we’re related.”

  “You’re nothing alike,” he countered bitingly. He paused, and then said, “She’s been a thorn in my side for decades, hindering me, preventing me from escaping. Anyone who’s been within the vicinity of Lockhart Manor, she’s diverted.”

  “But not me,” Edie said, and wondered why.

  He hadn’t been looking at her, staring out the window, but now he turned toward Edie and smiled. “Not you. She couldn’t keep me from you.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted you too badly,” he admitted. “I overcame her strongholds and captured you for my own. And now”—his tone hardened—“she’s trying to take you from me.”

  “She just said ‘hello,’” Edie reminded him of her lie.

  He seemed to believe her, for now. “She could never keep her mouth shut. Yap, yap, yap. She’ll find you again. She’ll say more than just ‘hell-o.’”

  “What are you afraid of her telling me?” She asked the question even though she knew the answer, the truth from Adrian, of their unhappy home life and tragic endings.

  “Nothing,” he said, as if there were nothing to tell, no insight into his evil character. “Whatever she’ll say, it’ll be lies. Edie, you can’t believe her. She was in love with me and I rejected her. She couldn’t handle it and killed herself. That’s why she haunts the woods. She’ll corrupt you, Edie. She’ll transfer her pain onto you. She’ll get inside your head, torment you. You have to resist her.”

  Edie knew that he was lying, but she played along, and nodded her head.

  “What about you? How did you die?”

  “She killed me,” he replied truthfully, and then added, “Arianna killed me with a poisoned kiss.”

  Arianna had set a trap for him, an enticing trap, and won, but at a great cost to her.

  Yes, Arianna had killed herself, but not because he’d rejected her, right? Not because she’d been in love with him? Edie was sure that Adrian had told her the truth, but…what if…? No, no! Tristan was the liar! She couldn’t give in to him. She just couldn’t! He was a manipulator and deceiver! He had to be stopped, but was killing herself the answer? Why should she die so that others could live? She wished that there were actual ghost busters out there, with fancy devices that could capture and exterminate poltergeists.

  But they were in the real world where “happily ever after” never happened.

  Tristan had been staring at Edie with those dark, blue eyes, while she’d been running a one-sided conversation inside her mind. She wondered if he knew what she was thinking, even a little bit. As an answer to her thought, he reached out and touched her hand, or tried to touch it. His cold hand passed through hers. She was wearing a thick glove, so it wasn’t that much of an icy shock to her system.

  She maintained her hand on the console and he withdrew his hand, in defeat.

  “I don’t like scaring you,” he said, though she doubted his words.

  “But you like scaring others?” she posited.

  “I have my reasons,” he said cryptically.

  His reasons were to become corporeal. And he was well on his way, inducing fear at every turn. He would—if he wasn’t stopped—transform into a mortal-looking man with the ability of a “super” spirit, able to kill by simple touch. How could that be? How could evil wield such power and good remain powerless? It was striking how unbalanced the scales of justice were.

  Her cell phone rang, making her jump in her seat. It was her uncle.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Edie, are you all right? Your friend Jules called and said she couldn’t get in touch with you.”

  “Oh, um, I guess I was in a bad area.” Yeah, if Lockhart Manor was the gateway to Hell…but she said instead, “I’m almost home.”

  “There’s someone here to see you,” Uncle Landon said. “He’s wandered into the maze. I offered to let him come inside, but…anyway, could you come home and find him? I think he’s lost.”

  “He, who?”

  “Mason, your boyfriend.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “But-but he broke up with me.”

  “He didn’t say why he was here. Just that he wanted to see you. By the look on his face, he’s been crying. I know, men aren’t supposed to cry, but…we do,” he added softly.

  She was almost crying herself. She told her uncle that she’d be home soon, said goodbye, then put the car in gear, and got out onto the road, flying.

  Has Mason forgiven me? Does he want to get back together? Him crying is a good sign, right?

  She’d been so intent on rushing home that she didn’t even realize that Tristan had left the car. Good riddance! Even though she knew that it wasn’t going to last. He’d be back but hopefully after she’d reconciled with Mason.

  Minutes later, she was through the gates and parked her car on the gravely path that lead up to the house. She jumped out and advanced toward the maze.

  “Mason?!” she called out. “I’m here!”

  No answer.

  She’d never wanted to enter the maze before, but now, she was determined to find Mason, no matter how long it took. She entered and found the labyrinth to be more confusing than anything. Whenever she thought she was on the right path, a grassy hedge blocked her from moving forward. There were so many twists and turns, she wondered if she’d ever make it out before the sun went down.

  “Mason?!” she called out again.

  She waited and almost lost hope until she heard his voice.

  “Edie?!” He sounded far away.

  “Where are you?!” she called out.

  She heard his laugh. “I have no idea, but if you keep saying my name, I’ll follow the sound and find you! Okay?!”

  “Okay!” she yelled back, and started yelling his name over and over. It wasn’t long after that that he appeared from behind a hedge. “Mason!” she yelled, even though it wasn’t necessary, considering they were a few feet from each other. “What are you doing here?”

  He’d been crying. His eyes were red and puffy.

  He didn’t answer her. Instead he caught her in his arms, hauling her above the ground. He held onto her, burying his face into the crook of her neck. He started crying again.

  “Mason, it’s okay,” she soothed, and he put her back down.

  He held her face in his hands and she reached up to wipe his tears away. He kissed her gloved fingers, forehead, eyelids, cheeks, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips in a mad rush, crying for joy.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, after he’d reluctantly pulled away, but still held her in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I shouldn’t have acted like that. I shouldn’t have been so mean. I shouldn’t have walked out on you. I’m so sorry. After I’d left the hospital, I drove and drove and realized I didn’t care you’d lied. You’re going through something I can’t even fathom and I had no right to question you. When we were separated, I felt like I was dying. I can’t live without you. Edie…I love you. I love you so much. I never want to be apart from you again.”

  “I love you too,” she said in a rush, almost tripping over the words.

  His confession drew out her own for she realized that she shared the same feelings. She always had. She’d just been unwilling to admit it until now because after her parents’ deaths, she’d been afraid to love because loved ones, when they suddenly leave you, also leave a tear in your heart; a tear that she’d once feared would never be mended and would just stretch in sorrow.

  Mason kissed her again. “Do you? Really?”

  She nodded and smiled. Now she was crying. “I do. I love you, Mason.”

  He wiped her tears away with gentle thumb strokes. “I’m going to marry you someday, Edwina St. John.”

  They held hands, as they found their way out of the maze together, and back toward the house, where her uncle was in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee.

  He appraised Edie
and Mason, holding hands. “I see you’ve reconciled.”

  Mason couldn’t stifle his grin. “Yes, sir, and thank you for not kicking me off your property.”

  Uncle Landon smiled over his cup of coffee, steam rising. “And thank you for not climbing over my gate.”

  After Edie’s uncle had left the kitchen, she turned toward Mason and asked, “What was that about?”

  Mason blushed. “Well, I was completely manic, trying to find you. I tried calling, but I couldn’t get through. I rushed here and practically demanded that your uncle let me through the gates. Fortunately he did because otherwise I would have scaled his security fence.”

  She withdrew her cell phone from her pocket. There were no missed calls. She could only assume her phone was fine. It was Tristan who was the problem, blocking her calls. He’d failed to block her uncle, though, and that gave her hope that Tristan wasn’t all powerful.

  But she feared that he would soon be. As much as she didn’t want that to happen, she wasn’t ready to die.

  Mason was back in her life. And she was never letting him go.

  Chapter 24

  “So…do you want to go to my room?” she asked, blushing.

  Mason smiled, exposing his dimples. “Yeah, sure.”

  They held hands on the way to her room, passing by her uncle’s study. She heard the steady click-clack of the keyboard. She knew that he was in his own little world, and wouldn’t leave his fortress of solitude anytime soon.

  She led Mason inside her bedroom, closed and locked the door.

  “Wow,” he said, scanning her room. “This is like three times the size of my room. It’s like a little house inside a bigger house.” He spread out his hands. “Being rich has it perks.”

  She shrugged. “I’m not rich. My uncle is.”

  “Well, one day, you’ll inherit all this, right? From his biography, he’s never been married, and as far as I know, he doesn’t have any children. So…this is all yours.”

  Edie did a complete turn in her room, seeing everything in a new light: the walk-in closet, the hand-crafted furniture, the lush carpet, and the sparkly fixtures, one being the mini-chandelier above her head that she noticed may actually contain Swarovski crystals.

  “I’ve never really thought about,” she admitted. “Ever since I’ve arrived in Grimsby, I’ve had other things on my mind.”

  Mason advanced and held her in his arms. “I know. I’m sorry. Is…is he here, now?”

  “He’s always around,” she reminded Mason. “But I don’t hear or see him.”

  “Where’d you go after I’d left the hospital? Jules said you’d left too, probably running after me. I’m sorry, again.” Mason pressed her against his chest. “I shouldn’t have put you through that.”

  She kissed his cheek. “It’s okay. Everything’s great now that you’re here. I just went for a drive, that’s all.”

  It was a lie, but she couldn’t tell him about Adrian and Arianna. Not yet. Not without Tristan overhearing how they’d planned, and then scrapped his demise, because Edie didn’t feel exactly thrilled to be sacrificing her life for the greater good, when there could be another, less suicidal, alternative.

  She needed to forget about all that. Just for a little while.

  And Mason was a terrific distraction.

  She took his hand and led him toward her bed. She saw his eyes light up with possibility. They sat next to each other with a space in between. Mason hesitated, and then moved closer, until his thigh brushed hers. He leaned forward, his breath on her neck, and he pushed her hair back, kissing the spot just below her ear. She shivered, but in a good way. He turned her toward him and she found herself sitting in his lap. She looped her arms around his neck to hold on, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. As he tilted his head up, she bent hers down, and their lips met, tenderly, gently, testing the waters, before taking the ultimate plunge.

  Edie’s heart skipped a beat when he shifted and positioned her underneath him against the mattress. He put his weight on his elbows, keeping a small distance between their bodies, before he collapsed, grinding himself against her, and they kissed and kissed and kissed. Their clothes were a hindrance and she yearned to rip them off. She was hot all over and became a believer in the possibility of spontaneous combustion. She was about to burst. Is this what she’d been missing out on? Is this what everyone had been talking about? This primal lust coupled with a never-ending adoration for one’s partner? No, she decided. No one had ever felt what she was feeling now.

  Mason’s hand explored her flushed face. “You’re so beautiful.” He touched her delicately, as if she were easily breakable. “I want you, but I won’t push you. Edie, stop me or let me love you, but please let me love you. Let me show you how much I worship you. How I can never be apart from you. Not even in death.”

  “Yes,” she breathed, surprised that she could speak at all.

  ****

  They were lying in bed, cuddling and kissing, until he fell asleep, holding her in his arms under the covers. She remained wide awake and blissfully happy, smiling like an idiot. She’d forgotten about Tristan until he appeared, ghost-like and transparent beside her bed, bringing a snowstorm with him. She shivered and pressed her back against Mason’s chest, letting his warmth soothe her nerves.

  In this moment, she realized that Tristan had just watched her having sex.

  “Enjoy the show?” she asked, as if she didn’t care.

  But she was trying not to blush from her compromising position and pulled the bed sheets higher.

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” he said with a crooked smile, and then sat in a plum-colored leather chair that she kept close to the bed. He relaxed against it, his arms on the rests, palms flat against the leather, fingers splayed, almost claw-like. “I’d always wondered,” he continued, “what you would be like, if you were docile or wild.” He winked. “I’m glad to see you’re every bit the wild animal I thought you were; though I wish it’d been me instead of him.” He said this with a lazy gesture at Mason, who was sleeping peacefully, unaware of Tristan’s presence. “So…how does it feel to no longer have your innocence, to be soiled and ruined, like so many of your bubblegum-chewing peers?”

  His tone was filled with disgust, but she knew that he wasn’t a Puritan. The physical act of love didn’t disgust him. He was disgusted that she’d had sex with Mason.

  “You’re mad at me,” she surmised.

  “I’m always mad at you,” he shot back, and then smiled, kind of sweetly.

  “I don’t care if you’re mad at me, as long as you don’t hurt the ones I love: Mason, my uncle, my friends. Even those who don’t like me,” she added. “I don’t want you hurting them, either.”

  Tristan leaned forward, still sitting. He stared into her eyes, as if he were staring into her soul, and found it ripe for the taking. “What about you, Edie? What if I want to hurt you?”

  “You already are,” she said softly.

  Tristan looked hurt, as if she’d wounded him. It didn’t last long. He tensed and narrowed his eyes at her. “I haven’t even begun hurting you.”

  He stood up and advanced toward her. She pushed back against Mason even more, feeling every contour; the well-defined muscles and the little patch of brown hair in the center of his chest pressed against her skin.

  Tristan leaned over her and she shivered from his cold rage. “When your sweetheart wakes up, tell him that you no longer want to see him. Tell him: ‘I don’t love you anymore.’”

  She shook her head and started to cry. “No, no. I can’t!” Mason shifted and grumbled in his sleep. She was afraid that he’d wake up, so she lowered her voice. “No, I won’t,” she refused in a whisper. “I love him.”

  Tristan wasn’t affected by her tears. He pointed a threatening finger at her. “If you don’t do as I say, there will be consequences, Edie. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m capable of, if I don’t get what or who I want. You’re mine and I don’t care if I
have to drag you kicking and screaming into Hell with me. I’ll never, ever relinquish my hold over you. Do you understand that? And anyone who gets in my way suffers my wrath. I’m a jealous man, Edie, and compassion to me is a foreign concept. I can’t change. I’ll never change. Your beauty and the love I have for you won’t change who I am. You will succumb to me, sooner or later. But I won’t wait forever. My patience is limited. I’ll force you. In the meantime, say goodbye to this weak, mortal creature you claim to love, and vow to never love another, but me.”

  And with that harsh, unloving, and admittedly, grand speech, he vanished. Mason stirred against her, found her waist, and wrapped his arm protectively around her. His lips found the back of her neck and kissed it.

  “Love you,” he said softly, and then fell back asleep.

  She held his hand, cherishing every second that she had with him, until she had to say goodbye.

  ****

  An hour later, she was dressed and sitting in the same plum leather chair that Tristan had vacated earlier. He’d left a cold depression in the seat that she’d been unable to remedy with her body. She was alive, but felt dead inside. She was cold; so very, very cold.

  She lifted up the top of her sweater and dabbed at the tear that’d fallen down her cheek, mad at herself for crying again. She’d cried while Mason slept, getting all that sorrow out before she had to deliver the most painful blow he would, undoubtedly, ever receive. If they hadn’t slept together, it would be easier, maybe.

  Tristan had allowed their consummation for a reason, Edie realized, because he knew what effect it’d have on her and Mason. They’d shared their bodies in love and desire, had come together as one, bonded, and would never be the same again. There was no going back. It was done. Tristan had allowed it to pass to savor the moment when he would watch Edie break Mason’s heart.

  She scolded herself. She shouldn’t have underestimated him. She shouldn’t have believed that she could have a normal life. She should’ve never allowed Mason to love her. She shouldn’t have fallen in love with a guy who would always have a target on his back.