61 Demons and babies

61 A new grave
Date = 14 February
Place = San Francisco (graveyard)

POV - Melaena

I shift my legs into a more comfortable position where I sit on the freshly-planted green grass covering the small heap of the grave site, and then I place the red flowers against the newly erected marble tombstone. A few tears roll down my cheek and I wipe them away anxiously with my hand. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so devastatingly sad losing someone you didn’t even truly know. Fudge jackets, it’s so unfair.

Hatred for Harry, for Darren, for Lucinda … for the whole fudge-upped Brown family … boils through me. But most of all I hate my grandfather. How can one person be so cruel? Even after Alejandro explained that Alexander must have been a psychopath, someone without any feelings, I still can’t comprehend it totally.

I put my hand against the cold stone that’s now the only indication of the life that was lost and buried deep in the earth underneath. And for what? Revenge? Money? Power?

And in the end, Harry and his family ended up in graves themselves. What a loss of lives. All the bloodshed and suffering were for nothing. It just caused more pain.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive them for everything they’ve taken from me. Maybe if it was only about revenge and hate … but it was more about greed. Why didn’t he try to get his kids the help they needed … rather than using them to accomplish his own stupid dream? Ruling The Circle. Power … greed … hate … not good emotions.

I may understand their revenge, but it should have stopped with the deaths of Alexander and George. There’s no excuse for them ruining so many innocent lives, for making us suffer. A few tears fall softly onto the grass before I wipe my face again.

What is that saying about the sins of the fathers going over to the sons? I now believe it’s true. My father suffered for his father’s sins, my brothers for his, Darren and Lucinda for Harry’s … and so on and so on. It’s a vicious circle — pun intended. Let’s hope we’re done with both forever.

I sigh and take a deep breath. Then I take the letter from my pocket. I stare at my father’s handwriting — I remember it from my past. Our father told Jackson to get a key from Garcia. It belonged to a safety deposit box and inside was his will (he left each of us a shitload of money), a few photos of Mom and us, and then this letter — his side of the story. He wrote it the day after Harry appeared in my house.

I’d been holding it for a few days before I dared to read it. And since then, I’ve read it more than a hundred times, each time thinking about how unfair life can be.

10 November

To my dear children,

I am writing this letter to explain what I couldn't before. And maybe hearing my side might get you to one day forgive me. To think of me as a loving father instead of a wimp who abandoned his children. Or a monster who did terrible things.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not making excuses. And I'm certainly no hero that's for sure. But I'm also not the monster they make me out to be.

Kids, my father was not a good man. He was greedy and wanted everything for himself. A psychopathic narcissist who only cared about himself. But this letter is about me.

(Garcia can explain about your uncle Alex and how he came into the world. It's not a pretty story.)

I was forced into the dark barbaric cut-throat part of the business, and I'm not sure if I'm a coward or a savior, but I truly believe that everything I did was because of love. Love for my family and love for my brother. I'm not saying this so you can pity me, you must understand that. Nor is it an excuse for what I did. Alberto and I committed some horrific crimes ordered by our fathers. Crimes that I could neither forgive myself for, nor forget about. Harry was by far not the only victim. I can only hope that my past won't come to haunt you ever again.

There was a stage where I truly believed I could escape from that cruel world. But it was not meant to be. When your mother died ... I had to disappear to get you guys out of there. It was the only way.

I must tell you that both Garcia and I have been trying over the years to right all our wrongs by doing good. He can explain that too.

Hopefully, it was enough to get me to where your mom is waiting.

I'm just glad that at least you have normal happy lives. I've been watching you all these years from afar. Going through every good and bad moment with you - either celebrating from a distance or crying in silence with you. I'm so very proud to call you my children.

I'm going to give myself over to Harry since he went into Mel's house last night. I don't know what's going to happen from here on, but I hope his hatred will stop with me. My cancer returned, so I don't have long to live anyway. Maybe I will find peace at last while keeping you from harm.

So if you're reading this, it means I'm dead ... and hopefully, you are all safe. All I want now is for you to have long happy lives, find love, and always be there for each other. And make me loads and loads of grandchildren. Can you do that for me?

Lastly, I want you to know that I've loved you all very very much. You guys are the best thing that ever happened in my shitty life. Hopefully, you can forgive me someday.

And I have just one last request - please lay my body next to my true love to rest. I've spent hours at that gravesite. It's the only place I felt at peace and it's time for us to be together again.

Love
Dad

x0x0x0

Now the tears mix with snot and I have to use my sleeve to wipe my face clean — as best I can. Harry has been holding and torturing my dad for more than two months, without us even knowing.

I never really knew my father and now I never will.

For years I’ve blamed him, even hated him, and thought he was the worst person ever, but it turned out he was a hero and the one who sacrificed most of all.

Beep-beep!

Startled I jerk my head up. Any beeping sound still shakes me to my core after the two weeks in the hospital. Okay, it was a week ago, but still. At least the therapy Damion forced on me is helping a little. I’m slowly starting to cope with everything.

I’m still getting nightmares … but it’s getting less … however, my phobia of guns increased. Hoplophobia is what my shrink calls it. It’s even worse than my fear of clowns now, which also increased since the attack in the bathroom.

I struggle to take my phone from my bag with my left hand still in a cast. Turns out I fractured both my radius and ulna when the car crashed, and Darren made it worse when he tied me up. The rest of my physical scars have healed more or less. The psychological ones will take a lot longer.

Damion: Happy Valentine’s Day my angel (pink-heart emoji)(pink-heart emoji) Let the hunt begin — backward.

What the hell? What is the man talking about?

Oh, I love the guy, but sometimes I can still strangle his beautiful freaking neck. I drop the phone on the grass and cover my eyes with a groan. How can he even think about Valentine’s Day at a time like this?

Beep-beep!

Seriously … doesn’t he realize that I’m in mourning, that I need some time alone?

Damion: Find me and strangle my handsome neck.

Ug, now he’s just being a dick. How he does that is beyond me, but it won’t save his neck. The asshole is invading my prescribed resting time. I mean, he was there when the doctors ordered me to rest and take things slow.

And this is the last chance I have for a while to visit this grave, since we’re all going on a breakaway to the ski-lodges up North. A break we all need and deserve.

“Hi, Sorella.” I can’t help but smile hearing the voice of one of my most favorite people on earth.

“Wuff.” Jinx runs up to me and slobbers me with kisses.

“I’m not sure if it’s too late … but I think I chose the wrong asshole brother,” I tease as I swing my head back over my shoulder and watch him walk closer, his leg healed so much that he doesn’t even limp. They all fought to save me, risking their lives for mine.

“Oh, I think it’s a little late to switch out now. And besides, you picked the better asshole. I’m not good boyfriend material.” He falls onto the grass next to me and gives me a careful not-to-hurt-you hug. I roll my eyes. Since I’ve been released from the hospital everybody has been fussing over me as if I’m some kind of freaky porcelain doll that can break at any moment.

“Are you done? You’ve been here every day for the past week.” I give him a how-do-you-know look and he pulls a face as if I just caught him stealing the last cupcake from the party platter.

“Alejandro Ronan O’Sullivan Grimm, are you following me?” I hit his shoulder playfully with my non-broken hand. He stares at the flowers.

“More like sticking with my brother while he’s following you … “ he laughs softly, “the guy has got it bad. And you turned him into a wuss — he’s worried now all the time.” I roll my eyes. “But I can’t blame him — these last few weeks are not something any of us want to repeat … like ever.”

I pull my mouth into a thin line. This incident changed all our lives. It broke us even more … more baggage to load on those 747s.

“I couldn’t go to the funeral,” I say, “so it still feels a little unreal. I’m just trying to come to terms with it.”

He nods with apprehension and puts an arm around me.

“It was a bad day …”

“The worst.” I don’t need a reminder of the official lowest time of my life. Hearing your baby’s heartbeat fainting away is not something I wish upon my crudest enemy.

“But we will be better,” he gruffs.

“Yes, we will.” I shake my head to get rid of the sad thoughts and look at the man sitting next to me.

“It’s Valentine’s Day …” I say in a more cheerful voice. “Will you help me to organize a nice dinner for the asshole that holds my heart?”

“No can do.” I give him a pleading puppy-dog look.

“Don’t look at me like that!” I keep on staring, trying to make the sad eyes even sadder until he gives in.

“Ug, it’s gonna cost you, young lady.”

“Anything … I’ll do anything!”

“That’s a very dangerous thing to say to a guy,” he laughs and then winks at me. “I might just take you up on that offer sometime.” I roll my eyes and stick out my tongue at him. My handsome brother-in-law knows how to cheer me up.

I take a last look at the tombstone and give a little smile –

Xander Blackburn, loving father, husband, and hero

– written on one side –

Miranda Blackburn, loving mother, wife, and angel

– written on the other side. And at the bottom in big curly letters –

Together again!

According to my brothers, Dad died with a huge smile on his face, peacefully. I’ve wondered over the weeks if it was because I told him I forgave him … or because I told him about my pregnancy. Whatever it was … I’m just glad he died happily even in that circumstances.

Tears build up in my eyes and slip down my cheeks again, but I don’t even bother to wipe them away.

“No, little Bambina (Italian = girl), no more tears. Today is a happy day.” He grabs my arms, pulls me up as if I’m a delicate snowflake, and brushes the tears from my face with his thumb, his blue eyes filled with love, giving me strength.

I may not have peace in my heart, yet, but I know I’ll get there. I’ll get there with the help of my demonic angel, and the rest of my loving family, those that are blood-related … I look at Alejandro … and those that are not.

“But first I need to give you this.” He holds out a dark pink envelope and I take it with a frown. Another letter. The words ‘my angel’ are written in thick black letters on the front. I turn it around and pull out the card inside.

“I don’t know what you did to my brother, ‘cause it seems that he lost his balls judging to this effeminate behavior,” he sneers. “But fuck, what do I know? It’s not as if I’ve experienced a love like yours before.” His head angles to the side and he wipes the last tear from my cheek, a softness lingering in those ice-blue eyes.

“I believe, one day you’re going to fall even harder than him,” I whisper. “You’re going to make a special girl as happy as he makes me.”

“That won’t happen. I was raised to follow a certain less elaborate path,” he says with a seriously grim voice. “It has no happy ending.” I don’t know what he means, but it can’t be anything good. For the first time I realize, he’s also hiding a very broken boy behind his walls.

“It could have … if you want it to,” I try to give me hope.

“Even if … revenge always ends badly.” Is he also seeking revenge? From whom? For what?

No … I don’t even want to know.

I start reading the card:

You're going on a treasure hunt. Read the cards, listen to the songs, follow the clues, and relive the memories – good and bad.

You'll understand how I feel about you at the end.

First, you have to go back to the place where I first saw you but also almost lost you. We've both lost part of ourselves there, but it's also the place where I realized what you are to me - my angel.

I will always fight to keep you safe. Like you will always fight my demons.

My heart hitches and I gulp in a big breath of air. Cocky bastard.

So this is what he meant with his message – it’s a treasure hunt and I have this gleeful suspicion that he’s the freaking treasure.

“So, little sister, “ Alejandro asks as he helps me into Kiara’s car — I borrowed it since mine is a wreck. “Where are we heading?”

“The haunted house.” I know what Damion’s trying to do, he wants me to face my fears … my losses … and the only way is to face the place where it all took place … head-on.

He hands me another card. I open it with trembling fingers. Damion has this effect on me.
Angel with a shotgun – The Cab.

The song you sent me - it also played on the radio just after I got the message that you've been kidnapped. The words made me realize just what I was fighting for and I found the strength I needed to win the battle.

Alejandro puts on the song and I imagine how I would have felt if the roles were reversed.

I swallow the burning feeling of tears in my throat — only now grasping the devastation he must have been in, the frustration, anger, rage, fear, helplessness … and the lyrics penetrate my soul, just as it must have done with him.

I’m an angel with a shotgun … shotgun …
Get out your guns, battles begun, are you a saint or a sinner …

At least I’ve learned through this whole experience that you never know who’s the saint and who’s the sinner … some devils hide their horns, like Ren and Lucinda, and some angels hide their wings, like Damion.

I’ve become less naïve … less trusting … and I think maybe I’ve even earned a small demon in MY shadows — FEAR. It’s now in my bones, something I can relate to.

They say before you start a war … You better know what you’re fighting for
Well, baby, you are all that I adore … If love is what you need, a soldier I will be

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from crying some more — these days it doesn’t take much — but the significance of this song, this moment is just too great.

Not only is it his voice that sings the song, but Damion is my angel and my devil; my heaven and my hell; my everything; and he’ll always fight for me … for us. I know he’ll be there whenever I need him to be — always. And I’ll never doubt him again in my life.

Also, I know now what I’m fighting for — happiness. Happiness for every broken boy in this group. Nobody is ever going to harm us ever again.