Chapter 4: The Last Straw

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Melissa

Derek is at the kitchen table when I open the door to my beach cottage. The images of Sloan’s gruesome, broken neck churn my stomach. I’m still holding one of the prints.

“Melissa?” He crosses the room as I step inside. “Are you sick? What’s wrong?”

I lift the photograph, holding it so he can see what I know. “Dex knocked this off your desk.”

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t speak. I don’t need him to. I remember the night he’d told me he could kill a man with his bare hands. We’d been discussing “special skills.” He’d said he wasn’t proud of that one.

“You did this.” My voice is so quiet, yet it feels like the loudest thing in the room.

His eyes close, and for the second time, my head grows suddenly light. Only this time, the whiteness overpowers me. I’m going down, until I’m scooped up in his strong arms at once.

“Hang on,” he soothes, carrying me to the sofa and gently helping me sit. “Stay here. I’ll get you something to drink.”

“No!” I catch his arm and hold him. “I need you to tell me if it’s true.”

With a deep sigh, he lowers himself beside me. My head hurts. Pressure is behind my eyes, and my limbs are weak.

His voice is quiet, resigned when he answers me. “It’s true.”

“Oh, god, Derek!” Tears flood my eyes, and my whole body is trembling now. “Oh, god!”

The tears spill down my cheeks, and he gathers me to his chest. I can only clutch his shoulders. Breathing is hard. Thinking is hard—past the one thought of What now? Repeating over and over in my brain. My worst nightmare is coming true.

“I’m sorry.” His voice remains quiet, and he continues holding me, softly running his hand up and down my back.

“When were you going to tell me?” My whisper is accusatory. I’m angry, but more than anything, I’m terrified of losing him.

I feel him take a deep breath, his hold on me loosens as his arms lower. “In the beginning? Never.”

Pushing back, I catch his eyes. “You were never going to tell me you killed a man?”

“I didn’t want you burdened with that knowledge.” His tone is closed, but his steel blue eyes tell me he’s not saying everything.

All the shock and fear that had just been swirling through me binds together in a fist of anger in my chest. I push to my feet, adrenaline driving me now. “You didn’t want me to be burdened with the knowledge that you’ve committed a crime? That my ex-husband is dead at your hands?”

I’m pacing the living room, but he’s not moving. His eyes follow me.

Finally, I stop and shout at him. “How could you keep this from me?”

He looks up at me, and his expression is so pained, my chest clenches again. As angry as I am, I still love him so much. His suffering tears me apart.

“Melissa,” he breathes my name in a way that nearly melts me. “I’ve wrestled with this decision so long—”

“Because you know it’s the wrong one.”

“Because I love you.” He stands and steps toward me. His massive size makes me feel very small. “I couldn’t risk you assuming any of the blame for what I did. This crime is solely on me. I wouldn’t let him hurt you again.”

With that one statement, understanding washes through me. “He threatened me?”

Derek’s chin drops, and I reach up to cup his cheek, sliding my palm over his close, dark beard. Our eyes meet then, and his are filled with so much regret. “Yes,” is all he says.

Reaching for him, I surrender to his embrace, and for a few moments, we simply hold each other. Our breathing swirls together, and images fill my mind of how something like that would affect this man who spent the first part of his career as a commanding officer, leading men like Stuart on combat missions. It would be like tweaking the nose of a lion.

My cheek is against his chest as I consider it. “How did he do it? How did he make that threat?”

Silence settles over the room, and I lift my head to look at him. He smooths my hair back from my face, his lips tightening as he views the tiny scar at my scalp. “He had your necklace.”

“What?” The icy fear is back.

“We were watching him, and he had it. He pulled it out and showed it almost as if he were taunting me...” Derek’s voice trails off, but I can see the anger darkening his blue eyes. “The idea that he had been here, in this house, close enough to take something so precious to you without our knowing...”

Memories of the dream I’d had that day so long ago trickle into my thoughts. I remember the squeak of his shoes, the spicy scent of his cologne burning my nose, the sound of scissors. Shivering, I step forward again to hide in the shelter of Derek’s arms.

He only holds me, breathing in the top of my hair. My eyes close as guilt rolls over me like a flood. I’m to blame for this. If I hadn’t been such a stupid fool to marry Sloan Reynolds, none of this would be happening. Derek Alexander, one of the most honorable men I’ve ever known, a hero, wouldn’t have ruined his reputation and possibly his life for me. He’d be free from guilt, he’d be away from this nightmare. It’s the horrible truth, my humiliating truth, that started this chain of events.

“It’s my fault.” My voice is so low, I’m sure Derek can’t hear me, but I’m wrong.

He catches my upper arms and holds me in front of him as anger fills his eyes. His dark brow lowers, the muscle in his jaw moving as his teeth clench. In this state I imagine he’s intimidating to others, but I feel no fear. He’d never hurt me.

“That is exactly why I didn’t tell you,” he growls. My eyes start to close, but he gives me a gentle shake. “Look at me, Melissa.” I obey and meet his steely gaze. “You are not to blame for this. Sloan Reynolds was a master manipulator. He fooled everyone, including me, and the last thing I’ll let you do is blame yourself.”

“If I hadn’t married him—”

“Stop.” Another gentle shake, and I’m back against his chest, surrounded by his arms. “You had no idea what he was hiding. No one did. We’ve talked about this.”

I want to argue, but he won’t let me.

“I should have had more control,” he continues. “I’m trained to be in control at all times. What happened is entirely my fault.”

I don’t agree with him. I know him too well, but that means, I also know he’s convinced himself of the truth of his words. Only one person is as stubborn as he is, and she’s locked in his arms right now. Struggling to get free, I look up at his face again, so strong, so handsome, so intense in his commitment to keeping his family safe.

“We’re not going to agree on this.” A few beats of silence pass, and for the first time in so long, he smiles. It’s small, but it’s better than the dark veil that’s been clouding his eyes.

“If anything ever happened to you... ” His voice is soft, and he cups my cheeks. “I can’t live without you, Miss Jones.”

My anger dissipates as his lips lightly cover mine, but I pull back. One enormous part of this is still unresolved.

“You can’t hide these things from me.” My voice is low, and I’m deadly serious. “Something this big... you have to include me in this, in your life.”

“I know.” He blinks down. “I told Patrick—”

“Patrick is in a shit load of trouble with me, too! He specifically promised to keep you out of trouble.”

“He’s already predicted your response.” That little smile is back, and he glances at me. For a moment, I forget I’m mad as his sexy gaze holds mine. “What’s all this making deals with Patrick behind my back anyway?”

“He promised he wouldn’t let you do anything dangerous or... potentially life-threating. Nothing that could take you from me forever.”

My final sentence is the big question hanging over us now. Our blue eyes meet, and I know the fear twisting my insides is plain on my face. He sits on the sofa and pulls my body to him. I’m standing in front of him, my hands resting on his broad shoulders.

“Nothing can take me from you,” he says, placing his cheek against my torso.

We hold each other a moment, before he slides my tee up so he can kiss my skin. The touch of his lips on my stomach, the scratch of his beard pulses need in my lower body, and I lean down to kiss his head, curling my fingers in the sides of his thick, dark hair. He pulls back to unbutton my jeans, sliding them over my hips along with my panties as I step out of my boots.

A deep inhale and he speaks against the crease of my thigh. “You smell so good.” His kisses move closer to the center, and my knees grow weak.

“Derek,” I sigh. With one slow circle of his tongue over my clit, I rise on my tiptoes, crying out as electricity snakes up my legs.

“Oh, god!” I’m gasping and clutching his hair as he sucks and pulls at me until my thighs begin to tremble. All at once, I’m off my feet. I clutch his cheeks and cover his mouth with mine. The adrenaline, the anger, the fear, the frustration, all of it is burned away as he carries me to our bedroom.

* * *

Derek

Melissa is so beautiful coming apart in my arms. I have her in our bed, thighs parted, and I slide my tongue over her clit then down, tasting her deeply. I don’t want her angry. I don’t want her blaming herself. I want her to understand nothing in this world is ever allowed to threaten her in my presence. I’ll take any chance, any risk to keep her safe.

“Oh, god, Derek!” Her soft moans are shocks of pleasure straight to my cock, which is aching to be inside her. “I’m almost there,” she gasps, and I give her another firm suck, resulting in a high-pitched cry.

Her body is soft and wet, like honey on my tongue, and as her legs start to convulse, I rise up to kiss her belly before sinking deep into her. It’s the most incredible feeling, her clenching and holding me, hot and wet.

She’s in my arms, my weight supported on my elbows. Every thrust piques the pressure growing in me, and I can’t stop a groan. I kiss then bite the soft skin of her shoulder. She moans, and all I can do is hold her as the most intense sensation of relief explodes through my body. My orgasm shakes me like blinding light.

“Melissa.” Her name is a prayer on my lips.

Two more hard thrusts, she’s so tight and willing. Rolling onto my side, I have her in my arms as we slowly come down together. Our breath mingles, our bodies melt. It’s beautiful and perfect... until she twists away. I release her, and she rises up on an elbow. A dark lock of her hair falls over her ivory shoulder. 

Reaching out, I touch her lightly. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“That wasn’t exactly fair, you know.” Her blue eyes sparkle with her tease, and I do a quick internal evaluation of how long it might be before I can take her again.

“What wasn’t fair?”

“I’m mad at you, you distract me with mind-blowing sex—”

“Did I blow your mind?” We’re both smiling now.

“You must’ve. I don’t feel angry at all.”

Pushing myself up to sitting, I gather her in my arms. Her cheek rests against my skin, and I thread my fingers through her soft, gorgeous waves. “You’re not angry.”

I feel her brows move against my skin. “Oh, I’m not?”

“No. You understand why I did it, why I couldn’t tell you, although I’m glad you know.”

“Derek,” she exhales, frustration in her tone. “You have to include me in things like this. You can’t keep them from me.” Lifting her head, our eyes meet, concern filling hers. “I’m your wife. Your partner.”

“I can’t wait to make that official.”

Her expression is still agitated. “So what happens now?”

“Nothing.”

She pushes all the way to sitting, the sheet clutched under her arms. “You think you can get away with it?”

“Sloan was in the wrong place committing a criminal act. Patrick’s theory is his handlers will sweep it under the rug, protect the shareholders and the Reynolds name from what was clearly happening when he was killed.”

“What was clearly happening?” Her voice is so quiet, just above a whisper.

“He was engaging in criminal activities with a prostitute.”

Her eyes slide closed. “Star.” It’s not a question, and she doesn’t give me time to speak before continuing. “And you killed him.”

We’re quiet a moment, and I can see her internal struggle. “What are you thinking?”

She shakes her head slowly. “I never understood... I guess now I never will.”

Catching her chin, I make her look at me. “Understand what?”

“How he could be so duplicitous. Smooth. Seductive even. When we were engaged, he was completely different.” Her eyes shine with forming tears, and my stomach tightens. “For the longest time I stopped trusting myself, my ability to judge people.”

I reach for her, smoothing her hair away from her beautiful cheek. A tear falls, and I touch it with my thumb. “You lived through hell.”

She sniffs and wipes her cheeks roughly. “It was all a lie. He lied to me every day.” Taking my hand, she threads our fingers. Her strength shines in her eyes. “You helped me learn to trust myself again. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one in this scenario.” She lifts her chin and smiles, and I kiss her hand. “I wanted to kill him for hurting you.”

“Shh!” Pulling it away, she lightly touches my lips. “I’m always safe with you.”

I’m ready to show her how much more than safe she is, how loved and appreciated she is as well, when her phone rings from the kitchen.

“That’s Elaine with Dex.” She’s up and heading for it before I can do anything more.

Sitting alone in our bed, my eyes drift past the light-olive colored walls, out the window and over the miles, over time, to that night. I can still hear the sounds of Star’s life being choked from her body, still feel the rage at the overwhelming knowledge that he’d touched Melissa that way. My jaw tightens, and I know I’d do it again. I’d kill him every time. Control be damned.

Patrick’s right. We have to ride this out, track down whoever’s blackmailing Star, handle that asshole, and then put this case to rest.

Melissa’s back. Her shirt’s over her head, and she goes to the dresser to pull out a fresh pair of panties. Red lace. I smile, thinking it’s only a few more hours until we’re back in bed together.

“Elaine’s bringing Dex home, so you’d better get dressed.”

Throwing back the covers, I stand and catch her by the hips, running my fingers under the elastic of her underwear. “I like where your head’s at with these.”

She gives me a little grin and a quick peck on the lips. “Later, soldier. For now we have to get dressed.”

I smile at her using Stuart’s and my favorite “diminutive.” It started when we’d first joined the Corps, and a civilian kept calling us soldier.

My pants and boxer briefs are where I quickly discarded them earlier. “It’s not like Patrick and Elaine ever worry about being discreet,” I say, stepping into them.

“Listen.” She stops in front of me, and I stand, pulling up my jeans. “I’m serious about what I said earlier. No more secrets.”

Her blue eyes are so round and beautiful. I grab her by the waist, pulling her into a hug. Her hands rest on my bare chest. “No more secrets,” I repeat.

“Promise me?”

A slow kiss, a little nip on her bottom lip, and I meet her gaze. “I promise.”

* * *

The next day, Patrick and I are in my car speeding to Raleigh. He explains the latest in our evolving case as I weave us through the morning-commuter traffic.

“Toni’s getting panicky. She wants us to find a safe place for Camille.”

My teeth clench, tightening my lips as I think. “Did you explain to her that’s not something we’re prepared to do?”

“Whoever this is knows exactly where the little girl goes to daycare, her schedule, everything.”

“And we still don’t know what this fucking ‘friend’ wants?”

“Toni seems to think he’s after you.”

Silence fills the car. My eyes flick to my partner’s. “What the hell?”

His face is dead serious. “Her last letter referenced ‘the big guy.’ Her idea is you’re the biggest guy connected to the case in every way—physically, financially, professionally...”

“Then fucking come get me,” I growl. “Why go through her?”

“Safety. Insurance.” Patrick releases a long exhale. “Our man’s smart, which is not good. Going directly to you will only get him killed.”

“Damn straight it will.” Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, my thoughts go immediately to the ones I’ve left behind. “You should’ve told me this before we left today. Melissa and Dex are home, unprotected—”

“I think they’re okay for now. I told Elaine to be aware of their surroundings, take precautions if she notices anything suspicious.”

“You told Elaine?”

“Of course.” His hazel eyes narrow at me. “You need to tell Melissa more than you do. She’s a tough chick.”

“She’s a beautiful, smart woman.”

“But you didn’t tell her about Toni.”

“I’ll tell her when we have answers. I’d rather tell her our solution than our problem.” My promise to her yesterday lurks in the corner of my mind. “What makes you think they’re not in danger?”

“Toni said the letter is very specific. She was too afraid to fax it. Doesn’t want it out of her possession in case he goes after Cammie.”

“That’s not going to happen. This asshole’s not going after anyone.”

Soon we’re pulling into the parking lot of the Skinniflute, the biker bar where Star works and where we’ve met on several occasions in the past.

“I can’t believe she’s still at this dump,” I grumble as I lock my car.

“Working her way through college.” Patrick’s dressed in his usual Skinniflute attire—faded blue jeans, a black tee, and combat boots. I’m in slacks and a thin navy sweater. I’m no fucking biker, and I don’t have to dress like one.

“She could get a job in an office. Be a secretary or something respectable for a change.”

He heads inside the all-wood establishment with neon beer ads shining in the windows, but I take a moment to text Mel.

You okay?

It only takes a moment for her to respond. The boys are hilarious. Just like little men. Wish you could see them.

Me, too.

Everything okay?

I pause a moment, considering. So far nothing new.

Working on the Nikki problem?

Shit. I made this trip without telling her. And other things.

Tell Patrick to call her. She loves him.

I will.

Check this out. A picture of Mel kneeling beside my little boy in a tiny tux appears on my phone, and my chest warms.

I love you both.

We love you more. Want us to stop by the office?

No. We’ll talk tonight. Be safe, okay?

This is Wilmington, babe. We’re good.

I exhale deeply. I can’t believe some new asshole is threatening my family. He’d better be ready for the hell he’s inviting.

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim interior of the establishment. A few pool tables are situated in the back corner, and the usual cast of regulars in their faded jeans, leather vests, and bandanas are stationed around the center bar.

Lylah, the other Amy-Winehouse-looking waitress, is hanging on the polished wood separating them laughing and talking trash. It’s just after noon on a Tuesday.

We slide into a wooden booth and she calls back over her shoulder. “Toni! Got a couple of regulars in your section.”

Toni, a.k.a., “Star,” walks out, and I’m surprised to see she hasn’t changed her look since the last time we saw her. Instead of the blood-red lipstick, jet-black hair, and white tank showing off her matching sleeve tattoos, she’s wearing a navy shirt-dress and leopard print cardigan. Her hair is smooth and hanging down her back in chestnut waves, and while she still has the cat-eye makeup, her lips are a pale shade of glossy pink. She’s a ringer for Melissa. It’s the look we used to trap Sloan. The only thing missing is my fiancée’s sapphire-blue eyes.

“Thanks for driving up,” she says in her low smoker’s voice. “I know it’s a haul, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“No worries, girl,” Patrick steps forward and kisses her cheek. “You look great. How’s school treating you?”

She slips in across from us and picks up a cardboard coaster. Lylah appears smacking gum and looking every bit the biker chick with her side ponytail, short shorts and tight tank. She’s still sporting the look—Priscilla Presley hair and red-velvet lips.

“What can I get you fellas today? The usual?”

“You bet.” Patrick drops a twenty on her tray. “And a little privacy.”

Lylah’s eyebrows rise. “When have I ever been a concern?”

Star cuts in. “Just get us the drinks, Lyle.”

Her friend spins around and swings her hips back to the center of the room. I turn my attention to the woman in front of us. “Show us what you’ve got.”

Her dark-brown eyes flicker slowly over mine, and her face flushes. I don’t know what that’s about, but she reaches into her sweater pocket. The letter is folded into a small square, and we watch as she spreads it open on the table then hands it to me.

Ms. Durango,

If you follow my instructions, your daughter will be safe, and you can return to your normal life. If you involve the authorities in any way, be sure my offer is null and void. I will make good on my threats.

You have one task: Let the big guy know I’m coming for him. Let him know if he tries to run or retaliate in any way, you and your daughter will suffer for his crimes.

It’s time to pay up, and revenge is a dish best served cold.

Signed,

A Friend

Anger fires in my chest at the nerve of this fucker. “This is about money.”

Star’s voice is soft. “It says revenge. And crimes.”

She’s looking pointedly at me like all that bullshit means anything. I’m ready to punch whoever this is in the face for harassing a mother and her child.

“It doesn’t make any damn sense,” Patrick interrupts. “I thought Sloan didn’t have any family left.”

“His parents died years ago,” I say. “Melissa was his only wife as far as I know, and they never had children.”

Leaning back in the seat, I try to think. “My job is putting criminals behind bars or turning bad guys over to the cops. It could be anybody.”

Star’s doe eyes are round with worry. “What do we do?” She blinks and a tear falls. “I can’t have this asshole threating Cammie. She’s too little. She wouldn’t understand. She’d be so scared...”

Her voice goes high, and I reach across the table to grasp her hand. “Look at me.” When I’ve got her attention, I put as much meaning behind my words as possible. “I won’t let anything happen to you or your daughter. I promise.”

She blinks a few times, eyes glistening with unshed tears, but I can see her body start to relax. “I believe you. I do. I just wish...”

Her voice trails off, and Patrick jumps in. “Has your daughter ever lived with you or has she always been with your sister?”

“She’s always been with my sister.” Star’s voice drops a few decibels. “I’m no kind of mother for a little girl.”

He sits back with a deep exhale. “Well, that fucks my plan.”

“What are you thinking?” Patrick might color outside the lines, but he’s smart. He’s good at our job, and I’ve learned to trust him.

“Your condo’s sitting empty in Princeton, right?” I nod, and he continues. “I was going to say Toni and Cammie can hide out there until we solve this. Stuart’s across the hall, and Walt won’t let anybody suspicious past him. The parking garage is secured... Unless it’s too stressful for the baby.”

“It’s a good thing you’re so fucking smart, partner. Otherwise your screw-ups might be more noticeable.”

Star looks from Patrick to me. “I don’t understand.”

Patrick leans forward and smiles that ridiculous smile of his that makes women act like idiots. “How would you like to live like a queen with your little girl completely safe while we figure this shit out?”

Her brow lines, and I almost laugh. She’s unaffected by his charm—probably because she’s already been there. “Can you be a little more specific?”

He gestures to me. “This guy has a huge, two-bedroom penthouse condo in Princeton with a doorman, secure parking, and my Marine older brother right across the hall. I think you and Cammie should stay there until we’ve nailed this fucker. He’ll never know where you are, and if by some chance he figures it out, he’ll have three layers of security to get through.”

Star’s eyes flicker to me again, and a note of relief is in her voice. “You’d let me stay at your place?”

“Of course. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself. You’re in this situation because of me. This idiot wants me. It only makes sense.”

“Okay, then!” She actually smiles, and relief shines in her eyes. “I’ll call Nan and see if I can get the baby tomorrow...? Is that too soon?”

“Not at all.” I give her a reassuring smile. “Go home and pack. I’m sure you’re worried about your daughter.”

Her eyes flood again, and she jumps out of her seat, rounding the table and giving me a tight, unexpected hug. I lightly touch her waist as the scent of honeysuckle drifts around us.

“Thank you so much.” Her voice cracks.

Star might be a tough girl, but her Achilles is Cammie. Having Dex has shown me the power of children. They can bring even the hardest characters to their knees.

“I gave you my word. I’m going to fix this.”

* * *

On the drive back to Wilmington, my thoughts are preoccupied with what this asshole wants from me, and how I can find him so I can rip his dick off and shove it up his ass. Patrick’s preoccupied with his smartphone, and it reminds me of my text chat with Melissa.

“That was a smart move with Star,” I say, catching his attention. “I’m glad you thought of it.”

“It just came to me as we were sitting there.” He exhales a laugh. “I’m glad you’re not pissed I volunteered your place without asking.”

“Nah, it was good.” Pausing a beat, I continue to our “other business.” “You had a chance to talk to Nikki?”

He nods, looking back at his phone. “Seems Captain Asshat is also Captain Hypocrite. He fucked her.”

That makes me wince. “Shit. When?”

“The night before he pulled out last time.”

Fuck. My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “I can’t believe he’d screw up like that.”

“Ah, give him a break.” My younger partner stretches in his seat. “He never planned to come back from Saudi.” We’re quiet a moment, and my thoughts go to how messed up Stuart was when he did come back.

Patrick breaks the moment with a laugh. “So I’m officially off the hook. At least my office fuck-up was also a set-up.”

“I’m glad you’re both on a leash now. Makes my job easier.”

“I am a happily married man. That is the truth.”

“As if we don’t have enough shit going on.” I grumble. “Is she going to sue us?”

“No fucking way. It was consensual—apparently very consensual. It’s why I never made any progress with her. She was hoping to get back in his pants when he came home. Ahhnd now she can’t work with him.”

“So she’s pissed about Mariska?” Jealousy is a fucking nightmare to deal with. I rub my brow, trying to think. “I don’t have time to train somebody new.”

“I thought you hated Nikki.” His laugh irritates me.

“She’s a terrible secretary, but at least we know her weaknesses.” Filtering through my options, I land on one. “Maybe if I talked to her...”

“Won’t work. This is more than simple jealousy. She pulled some stunt in Montana, got Stuart all riled up, ran Mariska off. She said she’s too humiliated to stay.”

“What kind of teenage drama is this?”

“Don’t yell at me. I tried to keep her out of their way.”

Frustration twists in my chest. I’ve got a fucking psycho threatening Star and now the Princeton office is a circus. “I’ll talk to Stuart and see what he thinks.”

“It’s possible if I asked her to stay, told her we need her, the office can’t run without her—”

“Just hold off on that. I don’t want to make any false claims.”

He chuckles as we’re pulling into the parking lot of his and Elaine’s condo. “I’ll run more background checks on Sloan tonight. See if he has any nutjob relatives we overlooked.”

“Thanks. I’ll see if I can come up with anything.”

“You might try talking to Melissa about it. She was married to the guy.”

That reminder burns my chest. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

My eyes flicker over Patrick’s shoulder as I pull out, and I catch Elaine standing in the doorway. She’s watching me with a worried expression that bothers me, and I drive a little faster than legal to get home. Patrick should have told me this case had gotten so specific. I never would have left Wilmington today if I’d known.

Quickly killing the car in our driveway, I hustle up to the door when I see something that slows my pace. Three large black suitcases and my duffel bag are stacked on the porch. My eyes travel over the house, and I can see the flicker of the television through the sheer blinds in the kitchen. Melissa and Dex are here, but clearly something’s wrong.

My chest tightens as I walk toward the entrance. Lifting one of the bags, I notice it’s heavy. I pull the zipper down, and inside are my clothes. What the fuck? Standing, I push my key in the lock and try to open the door, but it stops short. The metal chain prevents it from opening. I can only see a few inches into the kitchen.

“Melissa?” I shout through the crack. “What’s going on? Let me in.”

Footsteps thud on the other side, and all at once the door is shoved closed, pushing me back. The sound of the deadbolt locking follows next.

“Melissa?” I shout, banging on the door, but she doesn’t answer. I’m simultaneously pissed and confused. All my shit’s out here... Is she throwing me out?

My key is back in the lock, and I open the door again, but again it’s stopped by the chain. “Melissa, unfasten the chain.”

“No.” Her voice is just on the other side of the door.

I can’t see her, but I can hear the anger in her tone. Dex’s train show sounds in the background, and I don’t want to argue in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, I stay calm. “Please open the door and talk to me.”

“Oh, now you want to talk?” Her voice goes high. “I’m sorry. You’re a day late and a promise short.”

The muscle in my jaw clenches hard, but my voice stays calm. “Open the goddamn door, Melissa.”

“No.”

I step back ready to snap that chain with a swift kick, when she pushes it closed and the noise of that fucking deadbolt sounds again.

“God dammit!” I shout as I shove my key back into the lock. I’m turning it open when I hear scraping noises on the other side. This time when I push against the wood, it doesn’t move at all.

Resting my forehead against the door, I take another deep breath, fighting for control. “Please let me in.”

“You promised!” She yells from the other side. “You looked in my eyes and promised.”

“Baby, I didn’t know how serious this was.”

“I won’t hear any more lies from you. Take your shit and leave. It’s over.”

She’s crying now, and all semblance of control I had is gone. This is not happening. Stepping back, I hit the door with my shoulder as hard as I can. A low growl escapes my throat on impact. The door doesn’t budge.

“Open the door,” I repeat.

Again, she shouts. “No.”

Stepping back, I kick it with the sole of my foot. The doorjamb shudders, but it doesn’t give.

“Don’t make me call the police,” she shouts from the other side.

That nearly sends me into a rage. My shoulders are rapidly rising and falling as I step back and survey this situation. The woman I love has thrown me out and is now threatening the cops on me. Am I having some kind of fucking bad dream?

The only possible way I might get in the house comes to mind. “I want to see Dex.”

She’s angry, yes, but if we can look at each other, talk it out... Maybe she needs to yell at me. I can listen, hear what she needs to say, and everything can go back to normal.

“I’ll talk to my mom. We’ll work out a schedule for you to visit him.”

My fist is pounding on the wood before I even realize what I’m doing. This is fucking idiotic, and I need to get on the other side of this fucking door and hold Melissa in my arms.

“Stop it!” I can hear the break in her voice, and it rips me apart. “You’re scaring Dex.”

Breathing hard, I rest my head against the wood again. Looking to the side, I can see the cracks that have formed around the doorjamb from my attempts to break it down. Sound filters through the spaces easily. The noise of my Melissa crying is just on the other side. I can’t take this.

“Melissa.” This time I’m pleading with her. “Please open the door.”

“No.” She says softly, between sniffles.

My heart is twisting in my chest. “What do you want me to do, baby? Just tell me what to do.”

“I want you to go away.” Her voice shakes as she says the words.

“I can’t do that.” I’m breathing hard now. “I love you.”

“Not enough to keep your promise.”

“I love you more than enough.” Gripping the wooden frame, I fight my emotions. “Let me in.”

“I’m done talking. Take your bags and go.”

Noises on the other side sound like Dex whining. I hear her go to him and attempt to soothe him. Stepping back, I look at the windows and consider breaking one of them. For several long seconds, I visualize myself doing it. I look around the perimeter and see every place I can force my way inside, go in there and gather her in my arms, make her stop saying these things.

But I don’t. It would scare Dex, it would anger Mel... It would only make things harder for me.

Instead I do what she asks. Ice is in the pit of my stomach as I pick up my duffel and the largest suitcase and carry them to my car. Popping the trunk, I put them inside and go back for the remaining two.

Once everything’s loaded, I turn the car back toward Wilmington, stopping briefly at a liquor store for a fifth of Dewar’s. It doesn’t take long before I’m in a hotel room trying to figure out my next steps. One thing is certain, no matter what she says, this is not over.