9. Melissa
CHAPTER 9
MELISSA
FRIDAY NIGHT – UP IN FLAMES
S omething made me jolt awake. What was that? My heart raced as I lay listening intently.
At first, all I could hear was my breathing, but then a sound—a creak downstairs. Was it just the house settling or something more sinister? I held my breath, straining to hear. No, there it was again, a faint sound, like someone moving about downstairs. Shit, someone was definitely inside my home.
Moving quickly but quietly, I reached under the bed for my "to go" backpack. I slipped on the trainers kept beside the bed and grabbed a hoodie from the chair. Over my pyjamas, I threw on the hoodie and secured the backpack. Tiptoeing to the door, I cracked it open. A beam of light from a flashlight swept across the stairs, creeping upwards.
"Shit!" I muttered under my breath.
Rushing to the window, I opened it and tossed out a rope ladder my dad had rigged for emergencies. He'd always been prepared for the possibility of a getaway. Climbing down swiftly, I reached the ground just as a masked figure leaned out of my bedroom window. A knife whizzed past me, narrowly missing as I hit the ground hard. A heavy body landed on top of me, rolling us to the side.
Pushing against the weight on my chest, I tried to retaliate by aiming a headbutt at the masked intruder, but he moved just in time, my forehead glancing off his chin.
"Ooof!" he grunted.
"Melissa, it's me, Marko!" he whispered urgently in my ear, and I froze.
Marko? What was he doing here?
"What's going on?" he asked, getting up and tugging me with him further into the garden.
"Someone was in my house?" I said as he stopped under a tree and looked back towards my window.
Lifting his head, he sniffed the air.
"Shit, is that gas?"
Air whooshed out of my lungs as he pushed me hard up against the tree as the loud boom of an explosion assaulted my ears.
Debris flew through the air, and we ducked further under the branches, protected from the impact by the thick tree trunk and Marko's body pressed tightly against mine.
What the hell was that?
It took me a minute to process what had happened. The gas smell! That masked bastard had blown up my home.
We stayed cocooned behind the tree, our breathing laboured as we tried to avoid the overpowering smell of gas and flames, waiting to ensure the explosion had ended before Marko cautiously peered around the trunk, scanning the surrounding area.
Pinned between him and the tree trunk, I couldn't move, so I simply watched him. The flickering flames cast shadows over his face, making it difficult to read his expression, but when he turned back to me his eyes sparkled with barely contained fury.
"What the hell happened?" he asked.
"I heard someone in my house," I began, keeping my voice low. "When I peeked out of my bedroom door, I saw a figure creeping up the stairs. I didn't want to stick around, so I got out through the window. That's when the person threw a knife at me."
"Shit, are you hurt?" Marko held me at arm's length, moving me around as he scanned my body for injuries.
"No, you appeared just in time and rolled me out of the way."
"Thank god," he said, hugging me to him again.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him, suspicion creeping through my bones. What was he doing here? How had he shown up just when someone was breaking into my home?
It seemed too coincidental that he had been there when I got mugged and was now here tonight when I was attacked in my home. I didn't believe in coincidences.
"We need to talk," we both said at the same time. Marko smirked.
"I'm glad we are on the same page about that, but I think it might be best to get you away from here in case the person responsible is still around," he said urgently, pulling me towards the garden gate.
Despite my suspicions about him, I didn't feel he was an immediate danger to me. In fact, I didn't feel he was a danger to me at all. It was inexplicable considering my current circumstances and the obvious fact that he kept turning up whenever something bad happened to me.
Yet ultimately, I doubted he was responsible for those bad things, but it was obvious something was going on with him. Just what it was and what it meant for me was what worried me. However, I needed to find out, and he was right, the man who attacked me could still be around. So, I let him lead me away.
Marko pulled out his mobile and made a call as he hurried me through the garden. Protesting seemed pointless; getting out of there right now seemed like a good idea. The heat from the flames was immense, and the crackle of the fire was loud in my ears. Sirens wailed in the distance, which I assumed were from fire engines racing towards us. I knew I would need to talk to the authorities about what happened, but getting away from the garden was definitely a priority.
As we reached the gate, I glanced back, and my heart sank. The gas explosion had left my home in ruins, flames tearing through the familiar walls. A profound sense of loss and despair overwhelmed me, leaving me numb with grief.
My beautiful home lay in shambles. It had once been a warehouse which my dad had lovingly converted into two apartments years ago. The larger flat on the second storey had been our home whenever we were in the UK. We used to rent the smaller flat below out. Thankfully, it was vacant at that moment, and with the closest neighbours over fifty feet away, separated by a driveway and garden, I took some solace in knowing that nobody had been hurt.
Tears threatened to spill as smoke stung my eyes and tightened my throat. Watching the flames engulf my home was overwhelming. Everything ramped up a notch; the roar of the flames grew deafening, the heat became suffocating, and sweat began to trickle down my neck, my breath coming in short, laboured gasps.
Then suddenly, the world around me seemed to blur. The cacophony of the fire was replaced by the harsh sound of my own panicked breathing. My vision swam, and I felt a wave of dizziness, as if the ground beneath me was shifting and I swayed unsteadily.
A firm hand gripped my arm.
"I've got you, sweetheart. It's just a panic attack. You're going to be fine," Marko said, his voice slicing through the panic. "Breathe, Melissa, take long, slow breaths," he urged gently, pulling me close.
Focusing on the calming words he mumbled into my hair, I tried to steady my racing heart, taking deep, measured breaths. Marko's presence grounded me as I fought to regain control. Finally, after several minutes of concentrating on my breath, the world stopped spinning, and I felt calmer again.
Glancing up at him, I felt a twinge of embarrassment. Having never experienced a panic attack before, the sensation was entirely new to me. With no history of anxiety, this was something I wasn't familiar with. The relief I felt for Marko's presence was immense, knowing he was there to guide me through the ordeal and I wasn't alone.
"Sorry about that," I said, hoping it hadn't put him off me.
"Don't be. You've been through a lot today. It's perfectly understandable," Marko assured me, kissing me on the forehead.
"Let's get you out of here," Marko said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and leading me into the street and towards a white van nearby. It occurred to me that I had noticed it parked outside the house earlier today, but hadn't paid much attention to it at the time. I knew I should be questioning that revelation, but my brain just wasn't up to it right now.
Climbing inside, I glanced out of the window.
As I watched the fire licking the dark sky, I felt a bit dazed. If it hadn't been my home, I might have found it oddly beautiful. But seeing my house burn, taking with it all the memories of my parents, left me utterly distraught. It was all I had left of them, and now it was gone.
Tears began to fall uncontrollably, streaming down my face as I sat there, watching the fire crew battle the flames with their hoses. My mind was overwhelmed with memories. I remembered my mother passing away when I was only eight, leaving just Dad and me. Images of us playing in the garden together came flooding back.
I thought of the excitement of Christmas mornings, racing to their room to see if Santa had arrived. We always spent the holidays in London while Mum was alive, because she insisted that Christmas there was special. I wished I had managed to return for one last Christmas filled with memories here, instead of being alone in Monaco. If only I had known what was coming.
Marko leaned over and wrapped his arm around me once more, and I leaned into him. His presence felt comforting, and I desperately needed it. Resting my head against his chest, I let the sobs escape.
A few minutes later, the fire crew arrived.
"I don't want to leave you alone right now but someone needs to talk to them," Marko said. "I can deal with it if you don't feel up to it?"
"Please!" I sniffed and nodded my head gratefully as I rubbed at the tears with the back of my hand.
"I doubt that whoever did this will still be hanging around, but just in case, lock the door behind me and don't let anyone in but me. I'll have my eye on the van at all times. If you are worried about anything, blast the horn. Okay?"
I nodded again and Marko smiled.
"I'll be right back," he said, then kissed me gently on the forehead before heading off to meet them.
A warm glow enthused my whole being as I watched Marko walk away. I knew it was my responsibility, really, but after the shocks of the last couple of days, I just didn't feel like dealing with anything else right now. Having Marko here to help me was such a relief.
There was more to my Mr Sexy Nerd than simply the concerned bystander he appeared earlier, and we would definitely need to talk about exactly who he was and what he was doing in my life. However, for now, I was just glad he was here, and I didn't need to face all of this on my own.
As I peered out of the window, watching the fire crew attempt to douse the flames, tears threatened to engulf me once more. Brushing them away, I pulled a tissue from my bag and blew my nose loudly, refusing to give in to them, anger replacing my despair.
If Mathieson were still alive, I'd kill the bastard myself for dragging me into this mess and jeopardising my life. A searing rage bubbled up inside me, a blazing fire that scorched my insides just like the one that scorched my home. Fuck the bastard! And fuck the MP! If this was his work, I was going to make him pay. Whatever it took!
Just as that thought crossed my mind, a loud crash rang out, and yet another piece of my life shattered under the relentless pressure of the water being blasted towards the shell of what used to be my home. My anger turned to despair once more, and I could no longer keep hold of my emotions as the floodgates opened in earnest this time.