Chapter 8: Hard Lines

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Derek

Leaving her is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I’ll be damned if I give that fucking key back. I’ll be damned if I give any of it back. Melissa is mine. She and Dex belong with me. I won’t back down from that.

Listening to her say those words was like being gutted with a dull knife. She fucking compared me to Sloan. God dammit. The mere suggestion rains acid all over my shredded insides. I would never treat her like that bastard. I killed that fucker because of what he did to her, what he wanted to do to her.

Anger pushes me too hard. I’m at a hundred on I-95, and I don’t even see the cars as they pass. I have to drive back to Princeton tonight. I don’t know what I’ll do if I stay in Wilmington, but I know it won’t help my case any.

Melissa is my heart and my soul and my life and my love, and every word she said made me want to grab her and shake her until... No. I’d never do that. I’ve just never been in that position where every word out of her mouth was so impossibly insane. My skull feels like it’s coming apart from the pressure in my head.

I’ve suffered through someone I loved slipping away from me. When Allison had cancer, and all I could do was watch her die, I never thought I’d survive it. Yet, Melissa stands there with our little boy in her arms talking to me like nothing we’ve done even matters.

“Fucking bullshit!” I shout inside the car, slamming my fist against the steering wheel.

Yeah, getting out of Wilmington is the right call. Staying wouldn’t lead anywhere productive. I’ll step back, decompress, do some work, and see if I can figure out a better solution than tearing her door down with my bare hands.

The eight-hour drive is done, and I’m parking in my usual spot, heading into the building by eleven.

“Welcome home, sir,” Jason, Walt’s regular backup greets me.

“Hey, Jase.” I pause inside the doors. “Did Walt mention my guests to you?”

“Yes, sir.” Jason’s overgrown eyebrows pull together like two black caterpillars. “We’ve alerted the other staff to be cautious of new runners and such. We won’t let you down, sir.”

Clasping his shoulder, I nod. “I appreciate it. The mother’s okay, but her baby—”

“She’s a cute little girl.” Jason’s oval face splits with a smile. “Dark hair and eyes. A real show stopper.”

“Thanks.” Nodding, I head to the elevator, wondering what Star was doing with Cammie in the lobby. I’ll have to talk to her about being more discreet.

My condo is empty when I enter, which surprises me. I can only assume they’re across the hall with Stuart and Mariska. It’s late, but the little girl could easily sleep on a palette or a bed, and honestly, I appreciate the time alone. I need to recover from Melissa’s blistering words.

Opening the cabinet, my scotch is gone. A bottle of Belvedere sits in the background, and I pull it down. Amber last night, clear tonight. My insides are loose and shaken. I haven’t felt this helpless in years.

Walking to the couch, tumbler of ice in one hand, bottle in the other, I kick off my shoes and collapse into soft black leather. My phone is in my pocket, and I pull it out. Holding it in my hand, I stare at her beautiful face smiling, blue eyes glowing.

I want to call her. I want to shake her. I want to pull her to me and hold her until these fears in her melt away. Sloan put them there, and now from beyond the grave, his ghost still threatens us. I can barely take the thought, and I pull the cork out with my teeth. God, what am I? A fucking pirate?

Setting the phone on the end table, I pour until the tumbler is full. Fuck control. Fuck sensibility. I’m killing the pain tonight.

Leaning back on the sofa, my head drops back against the leather. I haven’t checked in with anybody. I haven’t answered the calls from Patrick. I’m sure Elaine told him I was there, but fuck if I feel like discussing it.

Another long pull, and the tumbler is half empty. Behind me, I hear the noise of my front door open. I expect it to be Star bringing Cammie back for the night, but the voice is my partner’s.

“Patrick suspected you drove back.” Stuart walks into the living room and takes the bergere facing me. “How long you been in?”

Lifting the tumbler, I finish my drink. “Five, ten minutes.”

His eyes move from my hand holding the glass to my face. “That bad?”

“Shittier than bad.” Leaning forward, I take the vodka and start pouring again.

“Give me some of that.” He leans forward and catches the bottle before I’ve topped off my cup. Walking past he goes to the kitchen, and I drink while he fishes out another glass. “Did you talk to her?”

“She compared me to her fucking ex.”

“The abuser?” Stuart’s back, taking the seat across from me, keeping the bottle closer to him on the coffee table.

“One and the same.”

“She knows better than that.”

We’re both quiet. He’s nursing his drink, but I lean back and polish mine off then reach across for more. Before I grab it, he’s picked the bottle up and is pouring more for himself. My brows lower as I watch. If he’s trying to piss me off...

“Why don’t you come into the office tomorrow,” he says. “It’ll take your mind off things.”

“Why don’t you fucking back off.” 

He actually has the nerve to chuckle.

“Don’t fuck with me, Stuart. I’m in no mood.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” he leans back, holding his glass. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this way.”

“Buckle up. It’s about to get worse.”

“Strike that.” He’s in my way again, holding the bottle so I can’t refill my glass. “I’ve never seen you this way.”

“Fill it up,” I growl, slamming down my tumbler.

He opens the bottle, but he only pours a shot. “This isn’t going to change anything. It’s only going to make you feel like shit.”

“I already feel like shit. This is going to keep me from trashing this condo.”

He stands and goes to the kitchen. “What about Cammie and Star?”

I’m leaning forward now, shoving my hands into the front of my hair, gripping the sides of my skull. “She asked for the key. She tried to give back her necklace. I’m surprised she didn’t think of her engagement ring.”

“Give her time. She’ll think of it.”

“Whose fucking side are you on?”

He walks back and leans against the wall of windows facing me. “I’ve only been around Melissa a few times, but I can tell she loves you. You crossed a line.”

“She keeps saying it’s over.” Dropping my hands, I stare at my fists. “If she says that one more time.”

“Grab the reins, and give her space. At least this time, she’s still here. You still have a chance.”

My fists open, and I reach for my glass. Only one sip is left, but I’ve made it through the scorching burn of rage. Now my pain is dulled from the vodka, and all I’m left with is the helplessness.

“Losing Allison is nothing like losing Mel. It was out of my hands. I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

“The situations might be more similar than you think.”

Glancing up, I study his face. “How so?”

“You can’t do anything now. You’re going to have to let her come around in her own time.”

“I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

We’re interrupted by the sound of the door opening again. Looking back, I see Star enter with her daughter asleep on her shoulder. She does a little wave, and I stand.

“I’m sorry. I needed to come back,” I say softly. “Were you...”

She shakes her head and points to the guest room. “I’m sleeping with Cammie.”

Stuart pats my shoulder and heads for the door, leaving his full glass of vodka by the sink. “I’ll pick you up in the morning. Get some sleep.”

The two doors close simultaneously, and I pick up my phone. She doesn’t want to hear from me, but I’m sticking to my policy of full disclosure.

I drove back to Princeton tonight. I’m going to go in and talk to Nikki, see if Patrick’s found any leads on Star’s situation, see if I can find anything. I’ll be home this weekend. I’ll be thinking of you every minute until then.

I hit Send and wait. Seconds tick past, and there’s no answer. A minute, and I let it go. Stuart’s right. It’s tearing me apart, but I have to let her take the lead.

* * *

Nikki doesn’t even look up from her desk when we enter the glass doors of the Princeton office. It’s not until I speak that her white-blonde head snaps to attention.

“What’s this I hear about you quitting?” My tone is mock disapproval, and her blue eyes go wide.

“Derek!” Her pinup mouth drops open, and I can’t help shaking my head. Of all the secretaries I expected to stick around, it wasn’t this airhead blonde.

“Can I see you in my office?”

She hops up and follows me in the same too-tight dresses she’s worn since Day one. We step inside the office, and I push the door closed.

“What’s going on?” I go around and sit behind the desk, and she takes the chair in front of me, not meeting my eyes.

“I got a better offer at another firm. A law firm.”

“You don’t know anything about being a legal secretary.” She’s bluffing, and I know it. “Try again.”

Clearing her throat, she shifts in her seat, pulling on the hem of her skirt. “Okay, well, I just thought I’d take a break. Maybe go back to school...”

“Remember when it was just the two of us in this office?” She nods, and I continue. “I got pretty good at knowing when you weren’t being completely honest with me.”

“I can’t work here with him anymore.” She says it so fast, I lean back in my chair. I hadn’t expected her to cave in the first round of questioning. “I did everything right. I waited. I... I...”

Her eyes well up, and she drops her chin, pressing her fingertips to her forehead. “I wasted three years, and now I’m too old to meet anybody.” Her shoulders shudder as she cries, and I’m at a loss.

Scanning my former office, I spot a tissue cube in the back corner. Going to fetch it, I cross back and hold it out to her.

“First, you’re young and fit. I’m sure plenty of guys would want to ask you out.” Not me necessarily, but I prefer brunettes. I prefer Melissa. “Second, I don’t think he was expecting you to wait.” It’s a shitty thing to say, but somebody has to tell her the truth.

“I know!” She wails, breaking down even more. She’s full-on sobbing now, pressing a handful of tissues against her nose, her glittered fingernails catching the light. “I’m the loser here. I’m the one who gambled and lost.”

She cries harder, and I flip through my papers trying to think of an excuse to send her home. “Tell you what. Why don’t you take the day, and maybe you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“No!” She wails shaking her head. Mascara is smeared on her cheeks, and she’s starting to look pretty bad. “It’s so much worse than that. I have to resign.”

“Settle down, now.” Walking around the desk, I put my hand on her shoulder. “If you have to resign, I won’t stop you. At least stay and train your replacement.”

All the bone-headed mistakes I’ve put up with from her, she can do that much.

“I don’t know,” she sniffs. “As long as I don’t have to see... them.”

Considering this, I figure we can make it work. “Stuart will be in the office, but if we can get a replacement this week, it shouldn’t be a problem. Will that work?”

She nods still looking down, still wobbly from crying. “I’m going to miss you guys. I really liked working here.”

Patrick’s lines drift through my head, but I don’t have it in me to lie to her. “You’ve been here a while... we’ll miss you, too.”

It’s not a lie. Patrick will miss her, and I know Melissa was her friend, whether that still counts, I’m not sure. Nikki’s reaction to my words comes out of the blue.

“Oh!” She jumps out of her chair, catching me around the neck. “I always knew we were friends, even if you are a hard ass at the office.”

“Take the morning off if you need it,” I say, patting her arm then pulling it off my neck.

“It’s okay,” she sniffs, straightening up and wiping her eyes. “Let me know if you need anything.” She’s at my office door when she stops and looks back. “How’s Melissa and Dex?”

Doing my best not to wince, I open my MacBook. “Good. Thanks for asking.”

She pauses for a moment, and I can see curiosity stirring in her eyes.

“Thanks, Nikki.” I pull open files and try to appear busy. She shakes her head and leaves.

The rest of the day, I comb through every file I have on Sloan Reynolds. After Melissa showed up in my office that day in November, I became mildly obsessed with nailing him. I tracked down every dirty deal, every misstep, every possible way I could expose him. Going through all of those files, looking for anything I might have thought insignificant, I’m struck again by how well he’d been able to cover his tracks.

“Fucker,” I mutter under my breath. “You will not win. I didn’t let you win then, and I sure as hell won’t let you win now.”

“That’s the spirit.” Glancing up, I see Stuart standing in my doorway. “It’s after six. Let’s call it a day.”

Leaning back in my chair, I realize I worked through lunch. Brown accordion files surround me on the desk and the floor. “I collected a lot of shit here.” My eyes travel over the mess.

“This is why you were better at academia than me.” He exhales a laugh, opening one of the files and reading the cover sheet. “I could never bury myself in research this way.”

“Don’t be so sure.” I stand, closing my computer and slipping it into my case. “Let somebody threaten Mariska, and we’ll see how much you like research.”

A light flashes in his hazel eyes, and he spins his keys. “Somebody threatens Mariska, that’ll be the last fuck-up he ever makes.”

Gripping his shoulder, I follow him out the door. “Good answer. Keep in mind we’re supposed to uphold the law.”

“I never took any oaths.” He glances back as the elevator doors open. “Even if I had, it didn’t make a difference to you.”

“I’m paying for that now.”

“This story isn’t over.” His face turns serious. “Not by a longshot.”

* * *

The girls are camped out in Stuart’s condo playing Boggle when we arrive. Mariska has Cammie on her hip, and Star’s hastily scribbling words as the egg timer counts down.

I’m feeling mildly better after spending a concentrated day tracking down potential connections to Sloan. It’s not getting me closer to Melissa, but I have to believe with every passing day, she’s softening. She loves me. She belongs to me. I’ll report my progress to her tonight, and even if she doesn’t reply, she’ll get the message. I heard her, and I’m serious about giving her what she needs.

“This looks fun,” Stuart, quips, walking over to Mariska and kissing her.

Cammie lifts her head and pats his face. “Scoot.”

“Yes!” Mariska coos to the little girl. “Stuart!”

I can’t help a laugh. “Sounds like she’s trying to get rid of you.”

He grins, and the way his eyes glow at the two of them, I’m surprised he hasn’t already proposed. He’s clearly ready to procreate.

“Did you look into transferring to Princeton like I asked you?” His voice is low, and Mariska’s brow lines.

“I told you, I’m not letting you pay for my college. It’s not your place.”

“How about I make it my place.” He catches her around the hips and pulls her to him, and I realize I’m not as recovered from the pain as I thought.

Leaning forward, I read Star’s list. Toe, roast, leaf, leap, leer... “Doing okay?” I ask, and she shakes her head, holding up a hand.

“I’ve got to win this time!”

“It’s Boggle.”

“Mariska’s won every time!”

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were playing for blood. I’m stepping across to my place,” I say, heading to the door.

Mariska looks over her shoulder. “We’re ordering Thai food tonight. You’ll come back and join us, okay?”

I give her a little wave, unsure what I’ll do tonight. Now that I’m outside my office, back in the world of couples and families, I remember the gaping hole in my life where mine should be. I head to my bedroom, slip off my shoes, and loosen my tie. The picture of Melissa and Dex is on the dresser, and I lift it, enduring the pain radiating through my midsection and focusing on my love for them.

“I’m not going anywhere, babe,” I say softly. “I’m waiting right here for you.”

My phone buzzes, and I see Patrick’s face. Touching the screen, I lower the picture. “Hey, man, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” he says, blowing air into my ear. “Abso-fuckin-lutely nothing. I swear, I feel like I’m beating my head against a brick wall. That fucker hid everything.”

“You’re talking about Sloan?” Stepping over to my closet, I hit speaker on the phone and put it on the end table.

“Who else? I’ve spent the last two days shaking every tree I can think of, and nothing falls out. That prick was tighter than Fort Knox.”

Nodding, I know he’s running into the same thing I faced back when I first tried to investigate Sloan Reynolds. I realize my frustration probably fueled the rage I felt at not being able to keep him from Melissa. It’s probably why I killed him. My legitimate options had run out.

“He was a piece of work,” I breathe, slipping into relaxed jeans and a navy tee. “Have you gotten anywhere with Star’s guy?”

“Until he makes another move, we’re just waiting. Since he went directly to her, I don’t have a lot of background. She tossed all the envelopes, so I have no postmarks, no DNA, no potential fingerprints...”

“Hang in there, partner. These assholes always screw up.” I scoop up my phone and head back to the kitchen. “They’re not as smart as they think they are.”

“Fucking Sloan Reynolds was one smart motherfucker.”

“He wasn’t so smart. He had money and great handlers.” Patrick and I’ve worked together a while, and I realize this is the first time I’ve seen him facing a dead end.

The line is silent a beat before he speaks again. “How are you doing?”

It’s a question I’m not ready to delve into. I take down the half-empty bottle of Belvedere from last night and grab a tumbler off the drying rack. “I’ve gone through everything I collected on him the last two years. Nothing stands out.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He pauses again. I know it wasn’t. “You going to be okay?”

I’ve got a nice full glass of vodka, and I take a long drink. Pausing to let the burn pass, I nod. “I’ll make it one more day.”

“I’m watching her for you. She’s safe.”

Gratitude warms my chest. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. Either way, “Thanks, partner.”

“She won’t talk to me either if that makes you feel any better. Apparently, I’m in the dog house, too.”

Another sip and I rub my forehead with the back of my hand. “It doesn’t make me feel worse.”

“I think it’s a good sign. She’s mad, and being mad means she loves you. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t give a shit.”

It’s a good theory. Of course, then I remember her face at the birthday party, the tears in her eyes and the words she kept saying. Leaning back against the sink, I take another long pull. “I hope you’re right.”

* * *

The light of a few lamps casts a dim glow across my dark wood floors. My eyes trace the lines of my mahogany furniture. Stainless accents dot the interior, and an enormous flat screen television hangs dark on the wall in front of me.

When I bought this place, I was alone. Allison had died, taking with her my dreams of a home and a family. I was broken and empty, dark and angry. I had plenty of money to buy the ultimate bachelor pad, yet I had no intention of doing anything with it. I chose to be alone.

Then Melissa came. Then Dex. My life became so much more than I ever imagined when I moved in here. I had another chance at my dreams.

Now I’m back in this elegant cave by myself. Dex’s cries are still in my ears, and the sight of Melissa refusing to look at me as she demands her key back...

I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and even then, I didn’t have much. An empty bottle of vodka is beside me, and anger twists in my chest. My fingers tighten around the crystal tumbler I’m holding, and I want to break it. I’m ready to smash every piece of elegant glass in the whole goddamn place.

The front door opens, momentarily interrupting my internal firestorm, and Star walks in with Cammie. The little girl is crashed out on her shoulder, and my thoughts travel to Dex. He’d be asleep on Melissa’s shoulder right now.

Star deposits her daughter in Cammie’s sleeping quarters then goes to the kitchen. I hear her digging in a crinkly plastic bag, and she’s headed my way.

“Mariska said Walt knows all the best take-out places in a ten-mile radius.” Her voice is too cheerful for how I feel. “I’m convinced. This is the best Thai I’ve had in... possibly ever!”

She sits on the coffee table in front of me, a plate of noodles in her lap. “You need to eat something.”

My head is heavy, and I take in her appearance. Tonight, she’s wearing tight jeans and a fitted, white long-sleeved sweater with thin black lines across it. Her long light-brown hair is loose and swept over one shoulder, and her face is more natural than I’ve ever seen it.

“What made you stick with this?” I say, lifting my hand to gesture to her outfit. “I thought you preferred rocker chic.”

“I don’t know,” she smiles and glances up through dark lashes. “I guess I feel prettier this way?”

Nodding, I sit forward. “You look like Melissa.”

She doesn’t reply. Instead, she takes the glass from my hand, replacing it with a plate. I lift the fork and take a bite of pad Thai. It’s good, so I take another.

“You’ve been driving a lot. Do you feel stiff?” She stands in front of me.

“I feel like shit.” Instead of going back across the hall this evening, I’d sent my full-disclosure text to Melissa. As per usual, she didn’t reply. All the vodka later, I’m twisted in my thoughts, trying to find any way back inside, through the wall she’s built around her heart. It’s killing me.

Star is on her knees, climbing behind me on the couch. “Mariska knows massage therapy.” I feel her hands on my shoulders. “She showed me some touches. That’s what they call them. Touches.”

She pushes and squeezes my muscles, and warm relaxation moves through my neck, into my arms. “Feels good,” I say, leaning forward to put the plate on the table, resting my elbows on my thighs.

“It does, right?” Star climbs around me and scoots the plate aside, sitting in front of me. “Check this out.”

Her voice is soft, but my insides are toast. All I want is one thing... one thing 850 miles away. My head is right at her chest, and she slides cool palms to my temples. Slim fingers go behind my ears into my hair. Gentle but intense pressure on my scalp, her thumbs move to my forehead, and the pain eases.

Her voice is different, lower. “Like that?”

“Mm. It’s nice.”

My eyes blink open, and her slim torso is right in front of me, swaying gently. Long, chestnut waves move over her breasts, covered in that white sweater. She stops massaging my scalp and her hands move down to my cheeks, lifting my face gently.

“Beautiful man.” Her thumb lightly touches my lips. “You’re tired and you’re hurting. Let me comfort you tonight.”

For a whole half-second in the dim light, her lips are fuller, begging for a kiss. Her long, brown waves distract me with how much they look like Melissa’s. I imagine them falling around me as she straddles my lap. My hands grip her small waist, and as she leans forward, I catch the scent of honeysuckle.

I’m on my feet as my brain’s still working out a response. “I’ll be across the hall,” is as good as it gets.

The next moment, Stuart’s at his door in boxers and no shirt, squinting at me in the light of the hallway. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sleeping here tonight.” I push past him into the dark condo when I realize I’ve brought nothing with me. “Can I borrow a shirt? And a toothbrush?”

He stands for a moment, brow furrowed. A quick sweep of my appearance and he shrugs. “You should be able to find whatever you need in the guest room. Nobody ever sleeps there, but I use it for overflow.”

“Thanks.” I start for the door, but Mariska’s with us, wrapped in a silk robe, her hair messy.

“Are you spending the night?” she whispers. “Let me move my art supplies.”

I step back and let her pass, catching Stuart’s eyes on her ass.

“Art,” I say, since we’re momentarily stuck facing each other.

“She’s taking a class in nudes this semester.” An expression flickers in his eyes.

My brow lowers. “If I see you nude, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Grow up.” But he can’t stop his grin. “It’s art.

“As if your ego could get any bigger.”

Mariska’s back with us. “It should be safe now.” She smiles up at me. “We almost never have overnight guests.”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Got a little crowded at my place. Cammie or something.”

“But you have Dex...?” Her eyes crinkle.

Stuart touches her back. “I figured this was coming. Let’s turn in.”

Thankfully, they take off. I step into the room and close the door. In view of my new full-disclosure policy, I decide in my next text to note that Star has my place to herself while I crash with Stuart and Mariska.

Stretching across the king-sized bed, I rub my forehead. I must’ve drunk more vodka than I realized. My body misses Melissa so much, it was ready to go for a cheap substitute to stop the pain. My stomach turns at the thought. Nothing is as good as Melissa. Closing my eyes, I picture her beautiful sapphire eyes, her long, dark waves over her ivory skin, her ocean-touched roses scent. I love her so much.

Even if she’s thrown me out. Even if we’re in a place where she won’t talk to me. We’ll get it back. I have to believe that, and when we do, I’ll have no secrets from her, nothing to come between us. I won’t betray her trust.