Rescuing Melissa (ALPHA TEAM: Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists)

36. A Hundred Roses

THIRTY-SIX

A Hundred Roses

MELISSA

Melissa checked the, double-checked the safety bolt, and triple-checked the chair shoved beneath the doorknob.

Her phone buzzed with an incoming text.

CJ: Hey, beautiful.

Melissa: Hi. Miss U.

CJ: Miss U2. I sent you something special.

He knew about her past but still wanted to be with her. Her heart felt as if it would burst.

If only Scott wasn’t in the picture.

She closed her eyes and breathed. It took all her focus not to think.

Breathe in. Hold. Count to three. Breathe out. Breathe in.One. Two. Three.

The repetition soothed her nerves. Soon the fluttering in her chest eased as well.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Do not think.

But her thoughts jumped from Scott to CJ, and back to Scott. She yanked her mind’s wandering back to the simple act of breathing.

Had it been less than a week since she’d met CJ? It seemed like a lifetime.

Scott’s ugly presence festered. Like a cancer, she couldn’t cut him out. In killing that woman, he’d made a statement. He wasn’t finished, and he intended to take her back.

There was nowhere to go—no one to go home too. As much as this town had turned its back on her, it washerhome. Her parents were buried here. If she moved, who would tend to their graves?

Even when love, or a second chance for love, had dared to poke its shy head back into her life, Scott’s taint ruined it. Of all the men—all the strange coincidences—how had she fallen for one so intimately connected to her husband’s past?

So much for not thinking.Melissa focused back on breathing.

Perhaps she was one of those women unlucky in love? The first love of her life turned out to be a sadistic killer. The second…well, she didn’t even know how they would ever straighten out the tangled threads of their pasts.

CJ’s caution about locking herself inside the bedroom seemed overkill, and the television was out in the main living area. He’d be upset, but she was bored. After she found the remote, she flipped through the regular channels. Nothing interested her until she found the pay-per-view menu. She accepted the charges and curled up with a pillow to watch a chick-flick with nothing else to do.

This time the flow of tears had nothing to do with her complicated mess of a life. A good, ugly cry had been exactly what she needed as the romantic movie scrolled its credits. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and jumped as a knock sounded at the door.

Her heart leaped into her throat. Was it Scott? She calmed herself down. Scott would never be that stupid. It had to be the security detail CJ mentioned.

She almost opened the door, but then CJ’s orders echoed in her head. Making sure the security chain was in place, she looked through the peephole.

“Hello?”

She squinted through the distorted glass, seeing a single figure. Her brows pinched in confusion. CJ had said a team was arriving, but that was a single man.

The man’s head lifted. He seemed vaguely familiar, although she couldn’t say why. “Delivery for a Melissa Evans?” The man held a clipboard in his hands, and a large cart sat beside him.

“Just leave it by the door.” The security team would bring it inside.

“Are you Melissa Evans?”

“Yes, but I didn’t order anything.”

His easy laughter traveled through the door and relaxed her with the complexity of its tones.

“Trust me, the delivery is for you.”

She liked his voice. Rich and full of warmth, a hypnotic quality oddly soothed her.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept any deliveries. Can you please leave it with the front desk?”

“You sure you want me to leave them at the front desk? The flowers are from someone named CJ.”

“CJ?” Why would he deliver flowers after telling her not to open the door? Wait, he’d said he’d gotten her something.

“Yes, ma’am.” The man turned to the clipboard as if reading a note. “There’s a card…” He leaned close to the peephole. “Miss Evans?”

She gripped her phone and shot a text to CJ.

* * *

Melissa: There’s a man outside my door.

CJ: It’s okay. I sent you something.

Melissa: You said don’t open the door.

CJ: I wanted to surprise you. Don’t worry. It’s safe.

* * *

A hell of a surprise considering she was scared to death about Scott, but she trusted CJ. She peeked through the keyhole and recognized the deliveryman from the hospital.

“I know you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You delivered flowers to me before. Tulips.” Her stomach knotted, thinking about that bouquet.

“I did?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Oh, I remember now. My boss had me come back the next day with a different bouquet. That was you?”

“Yes, you brought roses.”

He smiled. “I thought the name on the delivery slip sounded familiar, but I deliver so many flowers. It’s hard to remember them all.”

An awkward pause followed, then he cleared his throat. “Um, what do you want me to do with the flowers?”

Melissa bit her lower lip, considering what to do. He deserved a tip for these flowers and the previous two deliveries at the hospital.

CJ’s rules were in place to keep her safe from Scott, not an innocent delivery man, but she wanted to be sure. She turned back to her phone and sent another text.

* * *

Melissa: Is it okay to open the door?

CJ: If they’re flowers. I hope you like them.

* * *

She felt bad for keeping the deliveryman waiting. “Let me find my purse. I need to get a tip.”

“Oh, no need to tip.”

“I know, but I need to…hang on.”

After grabbing a twenty, she undid the chain and turned the deadbolt on the door. When she opened the door, the smile on his face spread ear to ear.

He rocked back on his heels, gave a half-bow and a grand flourish toward an amazing display of what had to be a hundred roses. Odd that they weren’t daisies.

Her hands flew to her cheeks as she stepped back. “Oh my!”

CJ had done that?

The deliveryman pushed the cart inside the room. “One hundred long-stem red roses.” The door clicked shut behind him.

A blackish discoloration around his eye drew her attention. “What happened to your eye?” She remembered him saying something about boxing.

He grinned. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“It looks like it hurts.” She stared at his black eye. He had a handsome face, and it was a shame someone had tried to mess it up.

“It’s nothing.”

She bent to breathe in the rich aroma of the roses. “They smell amazing.”

“I thought you’d like them.”

“Is there a receipt I need to sign?” She couldn’t keep her eyes off the roses. The blooms filled the room with a heavenly perfume. “I can’t believe he did this.” She was smiling so hard, her cheeks hurt.

The timbre of his voice changed, turning sour. “The roses are from me, my Queen.”

The smile fell from her face at the hardness in his gaze. She took a step back but wasn’t fast enough. He lunged, placing her in an armbar, and pressed a cloth over her nose and mouth. Pungent fumes irritated her sensitive nasal passages and coated the roof of her mouth as she took in a breath to scream. Her strength faded with that first inhale and disappeared with the next. Her body went limp, and her vision faded black.