Chapter Two
Melinda made her way out to her car, an old beater she had purchased from one of her cousins when she left home over a year ago. It had a lot of miles on it, the stereo didn’t work, and it had some cosmetic flaws, but it passed the emissions tests and got her where she needed to go. Melinda hoped it would be able to make the long, winding drive back up the Grapevine loaded with all her personal belongings.
She sat behind the wheel for a moment, trying to catch her breath. She had to admit her exit from the apartment had been pretty dramatic. But who could blame her? Am I being selfish? She wondered, glancing up at the reflection of her red-rimmed eyes in the rear view mirror. My best friend is going to have a baby. I should be happy for her.
She was happy, but it also meant drastic changes to her life that might affect whether or not she could continue pursuing her dream. Melinda knew that she had overreacted to the news a bit and had a bit of a meltdown, which was not like her, but it all came at the wrong time. if she could have had a shower and something to eat after the long stressful day she’d just had then she might have been in a better mood to handle the news that was coming. She knew that she would have reacted in a much more mature fashion.
But she was so glad that she had told Tyler what she thought of him to his stupid face. The man was a pig; he was going to end up hurting Brandi. A year from now she would be a single mother struggling to pay the bills and hunting down Tyler’s deadbeat dad ass to get even a penny of alimony or child support from him.
But Brandi was almost as stubborn as she was about things and Brandi would do what she felt was right for her. Melinda had to respect that at least, even if she knew it was dead wrong and someone needed to talk some sense into Brandi. As the thoughts rolled through her head she knew that her family had often felt the same way about her.
But that was way different; she knew what she was doing.
As she had time to process and think it all over, Melinda could not stop feeling so guilty. She almost wanted to turn the car around and drive back to apologize. But she knew she was right.
Feeling guilty over being upset had been programmed into her at an early age. So had her response to the guilt – which was why she found herself pulling into the parking lot at the local El Burrito chain restaurant a few minutes later. She could use the excuse that she had not had dinner, but deep down she knew the reason she ordered the extra quesadilla had been out of a need to comfort herself with food.
She dried her eyes and managed to put on a smile when she walked up to the counter to place her order. She glanced around at the dining area. The blow-up with Tyler had served to make her more self-conscious about eating in public; right now, she knew she would lose it completely if just one person looked her way and started to snicker.
Grabbing her bag of food and her soda, she headed back to the car. She set the cup on the roof while she fumbled with her keys. “Fuck!” she said as they slipped out of her busy fingers. With a sigh, she bent to retrieve the keys. It seemed kind of crazy to get distressed over something so trivial.
She got the car unlocked and reached for her drink. “It’s not like this night can get any worse,” she muttered to herself.
A large hand appeared, grabbing the top of the door and stopping it before she could open it more than a few inches. Startled, Melinda jumped back with a shout of surprise – and wound up dumping her drink on herself. Ice cold soda soaked into her uniform shirt, which she knew from experience would result in a stain if she could not get it washed out right away. What didn’t absorb into her blouse wound up on her shoes.
“What the actual fuck?” Melinda cried. She pounded her fist on the top of the car in frustration. And now felt like her hand might be broken as she brought it to her mouth nursing her wound. As the pain subsided she turned to see what buffoon had decided to cause a drink to spill all over her.
She looked up at the man holding onto her car door. How he managed to come up on her so fast without her noticing, she had no idea; she only knew she had just gone from surprised to pissed off.
“Thanks a lot, asshole,” she snapped. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
In the amber glow from the parking lot’s lights, she could see the guy stood a few inches taller than her, which put him over six feet in height. His long black coat did little to hide his strong shoulders, broad chest, and narrow waist.
His pale blond hair had been pulled back from his face into a ponytail, and his jaw and cheekbones looked sharp enough to saw through a redwood.
He seemed like someone who should be starring as the hero in some big budget action-adventure picture. Given their proximity to Hollywood, Melinda realized he could in all likelihood be an actor.
She had a feeling that she should know him, a powerful sense of familiarity as she stared up into his penetrating eyes. “Uh, hey.” When he just stood there without speaking, Melinda started to grow nervous. Her retail experience began to kick in. “Can I help you?”
He did not reply. Instead, he gave the door a forceful shove to close it and took a step toward her.
Melinda’s heart leaped. She shot a frantic glance toward the restaurant, hoping someone would come out at that moment and hear her if she screamed for help. But no one came out, and she felt pretty certain her cries would go unnoticed by those still inside. Her hand dropped to her purse, still hanging on her shoulder.
“Seriously,” she said, backing away slowly and carefully, “what do you want?”
“You,” he said, his voice a low, deep rumble.
Melinda’s fingers closed around the pepper spray. Before she could bring it up out of her purse, however, the stranger lunged at her.
His powerful arms banded around her and Melinda let out a shriek. A bright light enveloped them, her ears popped, and the world around them disappeared in a flash of white.