Unchained Melody (19 page)

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Authors: S.K. Munt

BOOK: Unchained Melody
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Hunter exhaled and was about to lean back into his seat but then the king was dancing with Callie in his arms and despite all of the surprises of the evening, Hunter had not expected to see something so erotic play out. The king dipped Callie backwards, caught her dress and tore it down the middle. Then he spun her, caught each side of the ruined garment and pulled it off her shoulders. Before Hunter could actually stand up and holler at Callie to put her freaking clothes back on, she was flung into the air in skimpy lingerie and caught an inch from the ground. She was stretched into an arabesque, one knee bent beneath her waist, as the king began to kiss down her shoulders and spine. Then he flipped her, laid her on the ground beneath him and oh-so-slowly, miming desire so blatant that it could not possibly have been a ruse, he began to lower himself onto Hunter’s former best friend while guiding her long leg back up to extend above her ear.

Hunter had to bite back a moan as the king acted out one of Hunter’s favorite spank-bank fantasies and Callie undulated beneath him as she was ballet-screwed in front of the entire, silent audience. After a few feigned thrusts of the king’s hips Hunter couldn’t take it anymore. He turned his face to see that Ryan was now hanging on the back of the chair in front of him with unblinking eyes.

God how can you stand it? Hunter wanted to jump out of his body and run screaming from the room where he could angrily rub one out in private because yes, Callie’s now muscular and scantily clad body had him harder than he had ever been before. Beside Ryan, Jo looked sour, her arms crossed stiffly in front of her as she stared at her feet and next to Hunter, Eva was scowling at the stage unhappily.

‘Enjoying this?’ She whispered, not looking at him.

‘Not anymore.’ Hunter grumbled, and got to his feet. As he reached the stage door, he heard the audience break into a wild applause and raucous laughter. He turned to see that the king was hiding behind the mattress, clutching his shirt and crown to his bare and rippled torso, and Callie was back on the bed, her back arched with a hand pressed into it, miming pain as the queen and prince sidled on. Hunter understood the audience’s laughter then; the princess had not felt the pea- she’d almost been walked in on doing the king and had rushed back to bed and pretended to be uncomfortable to explain why she was sitting up instead of sleeping!

Hunter almost smiled in appreciation of the bit of black humor, but then his eyes went to back to Callie on the bed and it hit him; his best friend really was alive! She really was there! Relief and agony barged through his shock and he marched out of the auditorium and into the foyer where he could find somewhere to sit and weep alone.

*

Eva and Jo stormed off the moment the show was over. Hunter felt awful and wanted to chase after his girlfriend and explain and apologize and attempt to redeem himself, but he just couldn’t do it then and there and had promised to call her later instead and explain everything.

The little blonde who had shushed them during the first act of the show had turned out to be the director’s daughter, and apparently she’d turned to Ryan after Hunter had bailed and passed on an official, whispered invitation from the Prima Ballerina for her old friends to meet her afterwards. Ryan had come out with his mind made up, but Hunter was still contemplating running after Eva. Or, he was pretending to be. In actuality, his legs were moving twice as fast as Ryan’s to get backstage despite the scowl he’d been unable to wipe off his face since intermission. Neither boy said a word as they rounded the rear of the entertainment centre and double-timed it to the yawning roller door which had been left open. A girl, wearing a black beanie and a black leather bomber jacket was standing on the rear steps as they approached. She had a notebook in hand and didn’t look up as they skipped up the steps towards her.

‘Hunter Marks and Ryan Weaver?’ The girl asked in a bored voice, keeping her eyes averted.

‘Yes!’ Hunter practically cried, feeling the weird compulsion to grip Ryan’s hand for support, which he hid by punching his fist into the open palm of the other while cracking his knuckles back.

‘Miss Clay is still onstage,’ she said, turning away and motioning for them to follow her. ‘She said I’m to let you straight through.’ She glanced back at their shoes. ‘But don’t touch anything okay?’

Hunter nodded. He and Ryan had helped out with a few productions on that very stage during their first year at AVPAC, so they knew the drill. But Hunter had never been excited and nervous like this before, and he almost brained himself on one of the many air-lock doors that the girl pushed through on the path backstage. It was pitch black at first and Hunter could hear Ryan’s ragged breathing as they hurried to catch up to their tour guide. They were lead onto the black floor and past row after row of black felt curtains. Light peeked through each wing, and Hunter could hear the final strains of a very familiar song being played in a way he’d never heard it before, more gentle than sorrowful tears as a sweet female voice sang along: ‘Happy birthday Mr Director… Happy birthday to you…’

Hunter stepped onto the lit stage and blinked at the shock of so much light after so much darkness. The theatre had already emptied and row after row of red velvet seats seemed to extend to the sky. For a moment, there was nothing but Hunter on that stage and he knew that if he closed his eyes, he would see a crowd waiting for him to sing.

But then he felt her and he turned to see that Callie was back on the proscenium arch, seated at her harp, and that a small crowd had gathered around her, both on the arch and in the first few seats in that corner, watching with smiles on their overly made-up faces as an older man blushed in pleasure to Callie’s right; the director of course and the birthday boy Callie was singing for. There was a smattering of applause and a few of the people rushed forward to kiss or hug the director, whose hand Hunter would have liked to shake, but he was star-struck, crawling out of his skin and feeling guilty; he’d been so overcome by Callie’s sexy dancing that he hadn’t even finished watching the wonderful show.

And then Callie looked up and saw them and her radiant smile faltered for a moment, before stretching again. She rose like a flume of water and stepped around the stool, her hand lingering almost longingly on the harp strings before she released it and moved towards them. She wore a blue velvet corset over a white peasant top that had been laced to the contours of her waist. The skirt gathered at her hips and were bolstered behind her, and the material fell away from the front of her deeply bronzed legs but draped behind her over a barely-there white petticoat. A crown was perched on top of her head, a large gaudy gold thing inlaid with royal-blue paste diamonds, and her hair streamed to her backside, straight and as pitch black as a starless night.

Hunter’s heart didn’t just skip a beat; it dropped the sheet music and fumbled to pick up a few seconds later from memory with a bongo instead of a guitar. Seeing Callie look so fucking unbelievable contrasted with his last recollection of her; she’d looked unbelievable then too, of course, naked, febrile and vulnerable, but her eyes had been haunted and her movements static as she’d lurched away and out into the storm.

But there was nothing haunted about Callie now. She was blooming like a night-garden under a full moon and her bright eyes held his without budging until she reached out one hand. Hunter looked at that hand and wanted to slap it away. He wanted to take her by the hair, jerk her face up to his and scream every obscene thought he’d ever had about her or towards her then and there in front of everyone and let the cast know that their darling harpist/ goddess was actually a game-playing, prick-teasing, heart-breaking, life-ruining demon. And once he’d effectively humiliated and shocked her, he wanted to drag her up to the tower of mattresses, bind her hands to the pole with the gold braided cord around her waist and fuck her for as long, and as hard, as he’d missed her. The bitch owed them; Big-time, and Hunter wanted to collect.

But before he could allow his gaze to frost over, Hunter’s eyes returned to the crown on Callie’s head and he realized how wrong she looked without his hat pulled down over her eyes. And then his heart broke at the memory of Happy Callie in his hat. Happy Callie teaching him how to read music. Eight year old, knock-kneed Callie leaping into prospective death in a running dive, determined to save the life of the mean-little boy who’d risked his own fool neck trying to assert his dominance over her.

And then he was pulling her into his arms and weeping onto her bare shoulder.

18.

Callie held Hunter for as long as she was able before Ryan’s warmth, Ryan’s own pain and joy and confusion became an entity beside them and then, she turned and curled around him, her eyes squeezed shut to stop the tears from falling. Everything inside her felt like it was dying and coming back to life simultaneously, but she couldn’t give in to her emotions by shedding tears, for each one weakened her resolve to deny them her affection. Callie was glad that Imogen had been hiding her face because in that moment, Callie could have sent her sister spiraling into Oblivion for having cursed her to fulfill a Muse’s purpose with a human’s heart. Callie had not been as obsessed with her memories as everyone expected her to be. She’d even feared them. All she had wanted to do was get back to her former life, heal the pain she had caused, and then hopefully, gotten Hunter and Ryan to where they deserved to be.

But now she wanted her memories back to wield like a shield. How could the suffering of these two music students compare to what she’d put Billie Holiday through? Or how she’d beckoned to a male dancer to step in front of a car and have his legs and dreams crushed so that he could be forced to sit still and wait for the music to come to him in the form of a symphony he needed to pen? Callie knew, thanks to Thespia, that she had done such things, and though the knowledge made her writhe in self-abasement- she did not have the physical memory of inflicting and having overcome and triumphed from causing such distress. So each of Ryan’s tears fell like acid on her shoulder and the sound of Hunter struggling to breathe caused her own to catch.

‘I’m sorry…’ Ryan hugged her so tightly that she was lifted from the ground, forcing her to feel how firm he was, how wonderful his scent was. ‘Callie I am so, so sorry.’

Callie nodded and whispered: ‘Me too,’ into his ear, and then kissed his cheek and disentangled herself. She glanced behind her to see that everyone but Gavin, Thespia and Nathan had made themselves scarce. The three who remained made no attempt to hide their curiosity, and Callie rolled her eyes. ‘Could you give us a minute guys?’

Gavin pushed off the bed set and wriggled his fingers in the air, backing his eyes comically. ‘Diva, diva, diva! Didn’t anyone tell you that I’m the star here? Those lovely looking fellas should be falling at my toe shoes.’ He winked at Ryan. ‘Hello there, my Tall Black Russian. Want me to sign your pec?’

Ryan blinked, dumbstruck, and Callie burst into a hysterical fit of giggles. ‘Back off, Gav! These two are straighter than your leg extensions.’

Gavin sighed melodramatically and turned away, sweeping across the floor before declaring: ‘Their loss!’

Hunter made a strange noise and Callie looked to see that he was gaping after Gavin as he leapt from the room. ‘Wait… the one who rocked out Metallica is gay?!’ He threw his hands heavenwards. ‘And he still did it better than me! What’s it gonna take?’

Callie laughed again and pulled Hunter back in for a hug before pulling away. ‘So… what did you think?’

Hunter’s eyebrows rose. ‘Of the part where you got licked onstage, or the part where my best friend returned from oblivion and ended up under a spotlight right in front of me?’ His words were clipped, stiff, and Callie could sense that they were the nicest words he could come up with.

‘I was actually referring to the whole production…’ she teased, but then ducked her face and stared up at Hunter from beneath her lashes, which were dotted with individual white diamontes, the reflection of light off them making him shimmer to her gaze. He’d become truly beautiful; broad and tanned and golden. ‘I hoped you guys would come. I intended to come and find you after tomorrow night’s show, if you didn’t.’ She glanced over at Nathan again, gave him a weak smile and moved closer to Hunter, keeping her voice low. ‘Look I know we have a lot to discuss but it’s the kind of discussion I’d like to keep private.’

Hunter did not flinch at her attempts to be bashful and apologetic, and Callie realized that getting him to fall in love with her was going to be harder work than Thespia had eluded to. She’d hurt him irrevocably. Callie could dance as gracefully, sing as sweetly, dress as seductively and smile as winningly as she was capable but she wouldn’t have any actual powers until she’d fulfilled her purpose, other than her general and very potent aura, so she was attempting to steal the heart of a man who had no reason to even give her a moment of his time. What was she going to do if he turned and stomped away?

‘Yeah well, it’s the kind of discussion I would have liked to have had seven years ago so why do you get to state the terms?’ He glanced at Ryan and muttered under his breath. ‘Maybe we should just go man…’

‘Honey?’ Nathan sounded perplexed as he stepped forward and cinched his arms around Callie’s waist in a very male demonstration of possession that was so over the top that Callie knew that Thespia had inspired that little move for fun. His king’s crown clinked against her queen one and almost knocked it off. ‘The others are going back to the hotel now and said we can jump in their maxi cab if we want.’

Callie’s eyes went to Hunter’s and she saw it; a spark of possession. Knowing that she might be able to melt Hunter’s icy shell with his own boiling blood - she turned and pressed her lips gently to Nathan’s smooth cheek and whispered huskily: ‘Go on baby. I’ll meet you backstage in a minute.’

Nathan caught her lips with hers in a kiss that managed to be both brief and slow. When he pulled back, his eyes were heavy lidded. ‘Don’t take too long,’ he teased, winking at her. ‘We need to rehearse that part where I tear your clothes off again… I think I need to pull off more.’ Hunter inhaled sharply and for a moment, Callie wanted to shoot Thespia a: ‘Dial down the Romeo look,’ before Nathan actually pissed on her leg, but she didn’t know how effective that would be on a naturally dramatic and infatuated Thespian anyway.

She turned to Hunter and said: ‘Look, I’m going tomorrow night to finish this tour, but I’ll be moving back here in a few week’s time and signing on at AVPAC. Remember that place?’

Hunter and Ryan exchanged shocked looks and then turned to her. ‘Remember it?’ Ryan repeated. ‘Callie we’re doing our degrees there. You’re seriously enrolling?’

Callie had known that of course but she feigned a surprised smile of excitement. ‘That’s awesome! But I’m not enrolling, guys, I got my degree a few years ago at LISPA.’ She smiled shyly as she name-dropped the exclusive London school of performing arts. Callie hadn’t attended there of course, but she had the papers to say that she had. ‘I’ll be assisting in some winter workshops with the orchestra and a few dance classes until I decide what I’d like to do from there.’

‘You’re going to be a teacher?’ Ryan repeated, looking shocked.

‘Our teacher.’ Hunter didn’t try to hide his resentment.

‘Um... If that’s one of your courses than yeah I am.’ Callie smiled and retreated a step. ‘Anyway I’ll come to you then okay? We can get together if that’s all right, maybe have dinner or something and I can- well I can explain. And apologize.’ She smiled tightly. She didn’t have to fake her nerves now. ‘If that’s okay with you of course? I mean, I can understand if you never want to see me again, again...’

Hunter’s features tightened and for one horrible moment, Callie wondered if he was going to tell her to sod off. But then Ryan stepped forward, took her hand again and kissed it so lightly that her heart fluttered. ‘I’m all for the catch up Callie, but if you want to see me, you have to agree to go to dinner with me first…’ Ryan pulled her closer. ‘And only me. Come see us your first night back to clear the air, but the second has to be mine, okay?’

Callie blinked. ‘Don’t you need to hear what I have to say before we go setting dates? What if I need to confess that I’ve been in prison?’

‘Then the next time you get locked up, I’ll be your accomplice.’ Ryan grinned. ‘Sorry Cal but nothing you have to say is going to change the fact that I’m still in love with you.’

‘Ryan!’ Hunter snapped, sounding as shocked as Callie felt.

Behind her Nathan demanded: ‘Did you just ask Callie out right in front of me?’

‘I did.’ Electricity was flowing from Ryan’s hand into Callie’s everything. His demand was bold, his usually blue eyes a passionate teal as he stared her down, willing her to answer in his favor, uncaring what anyone thought. Callie trembled with the need to kiss him there and then, but she couldn’t fall into those eyes without holding tightly to her wits; It was Hunter she was, well, hunting- Ryan was the bullet she was going to pierce Hunter’s heart with, and this was the perfect opportunity to take aim. She needed a steady hand, not trembling knees.

‘Man it’s not the time.’ Hunter said, yanking Ryan back. And then he turned to Callie, looking cross. ‘Fine. We’ll do dinner. And you can answer Ryan then, if Ryan still wants an answer once we know exactly how insane you are.’

‘No.’ Ryan said shortly, his gaze not leaving hers. ‘Answer me now Cal. Give me something to hold onto before you walk away this time.’

Callie returned Ryan’s heated stare with her own. ‘It’s a date.’

Ryan’s face broke into the most brilliant smile she’d even seen, on earth or in what she still loosely thought of as heaven. She turned away from it and walked towards Thespia and Nathan, not wanting to see Thespia’s grin of triumph, or Nathan and Hunter’s scowls.

She had Ryan’s smile to cling to. And she would not let it go.

*

Four weeks later Callie repeated the almost completely fabricated recount of what had happened to her the night of Cyclone Addison, where she had been since and why she hadn’t sent word to them until now.

‘My parents didn’t know...’ she stammered. ‘It was congenital. And really-’ she rushed on in hope that she might wipe the terrified expressions off their faces, ‘it’s not supposed to be life threatening. It’s just a small hole in one of the valves in my heart, and the main risk it poses if I get overly stressed or freaked out or whatever, the blood can sort of leak out and- ’

‘Kill you?’ Hunter’s face was ashen.

Callie shrugged. ‘The odds are like, fifteen in one thousand or something. I’m supposed to avoid excessive stress and I have to be careful about pregnancy, thrill rides… you know...’

Ryan shuffled forward on the edge of the couch. His hair and black button-up shirt was still sprinkled with rain from when he’d met her at their gate with an umbrella. ‘Are you saying that you could have died because of what we…?’

A snort escaped Callie and she shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘But in addition to the heart murmur, I also have high blood pressure. And because of the phobia with storms, well… my panic attacks are probably worse than most. I don’t just get scared- I lose my grip on reality. I hyperventilate and that makes me feel sick, and when I feel sick it gets harder to breathe and so I’m basically on the cusp of passing out the moment lightning strikes hard enough.’ She paused, collecting herself. She needed to get this story straight. It was the key to getting Hunter to forgive her and let her into his heart. ‘So because what we were doing was already, erm… intense, I flipped out and ran. When I came to, I was in a hospital in Rockhampton… ’ The rest of the fabricated story tumbled out of Callie’s lips. How she’d spent two weeks in hospital, and then hitched a ride with a truck-driver to Brisbane to stay with an old dance teacher. Then how she’d sent her parents a letter telling them that she was alive and would send for them when she had recovered from a psychological episode, but that it might be months if not years away. That she was too mortified to look them in the eye.

And it had taken years- Imogen had sent that letter while Callie had been passed out in shock on Helicon- keeping Callie’s human existence on life-support just so Callie could return to it in time to hopefully die again. But at least her parents had only feared her dead for a week, not years.

The lies were endless. Well, the stuff about her parents was mostly true; her mother had begged her to make contact with ‘poor Ryan and Hunter’ again, but her father had snarled at the mention of their names. They’d been as furious with Callie, but by the time they’d reunited in L. A., they’d had a few years to come to terms with it and her mother’s career was skyrocketing thanks to Imogen constantly popping up to spy on them so at least she’d had her writing to keep her occupied.

Callie had told her parents about the heart thing as well as a way to slowly ease her way out of their lives. It was crushing to do and horrible to see them break down but everyone who cared for her needed to believe that lie, so that when she ‘disappeared’ after she’d fulfilled her obligations to Hunter, one of her sisters would be able to send word of her death that would seem legitimate even though her ‘body’ would have to vanish, rather than be buried when she returned to Helicon. Then she would return to her divine body while she contemplated her future; but whether that was going to be as the Muse of music, or Ardos’s wife she still didn’t know. She and Ardos had a big talk coming when she saw him next; she still resented the way he had delayed her in Helicon, knowing her human life was slipping away. He’d broken her trust, but that didn’t change the fact that he was her designated soul mate, and Callie fully intended to explore him as an avenue if only to make up for the fact that Calliope had dismissed him so cruelly.

It was all so complicated. But Callie was grateful that she’d granted one of her mother’s fondest wishes; seeing Callie make something of herself. She had flown them to Sydney from L. A the very first weekend of The Princess And The Pea, and they had been beyond proud.

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