Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
MELODY
I can't stop staring at Malik's hands. Strong, capable hands now wrapped around the steering wheel of his Jeep as we wind through the darkness toward his cabin. The same hands that held mine at Forbidden Chains, that rested protectively at my waist, that made me feel safer than I have in months.
"You okay?" he asks, his deep voice filling the space between us.
"Fine," I lie, turning to look out the window at the thick forest passing by. "Just embarrassed about the whole fiancé thing. I panicked."
"Don't be embarrassed." His voice remains calm, measured. "You needed an out. I was there."
The casual way he dismisses it should make me feel better. Instead, it stings a little. Like I'm just another responsibility. Sage's friend who needs protecting.
"Still," I say, "I'm sure pretending to be engaged to someone my age isn't how you planned to spend your evening."
The Jeep slows as we turn onto a narrow dirt road. "Is that what you think this is about? Your age?"
I risk a glance at his profile, strong and imposing in the dashboard lights. "Isn't it? I'm twenty-six. You're..."
"Forty-eight," he supplies, a hint of challenge in his tone. "Old enough to be your father. That what you're getting at?"
Heat rushes to my face. "I just meant you probably have better things to do than rescue me."
"I'm exactly where I need to be." The finality in his voice ends that line of conversation.
We drive in silence for another few minutes before the trees part, revealing a small cabin nestled against the mountainside. Solar lights illuminate a stone pathway leading to a covered porch. It's rustic but beautifully maintained, with large windows reflecting the moonlight.
"Home sweet home," Malik says, killing the engine. "At least temporarily."
He insists on checking the perimeter before letting me inside, his security training evident in the methodical way he surveys the property.
I wait in the Jeep, watching him move through the shadows with predatory grace.
The man is a contradiction, I realize. Gentle in his concern but dangerous in his capability.
"All clear," he says, opening my door. "Let's get you inside."
The cabin is warm and inviting, with timber walls and comfortable furnishings.
A stone fireplace dominates one wall, while the kitchen area gleams with modern appliances.
It's masculine but not aggressively so, with soft throws draped over the leather furniture and warm lighting casting a golden glow.
"This is beautiful," I say, taking it all in. "Hardly the rustic mountain shack I was expecting."
Malik's mouth quirks up at one corner. "What exactly do you think mountain men live like these days?"
"I don't know. Flannel sheets and bear rugs?" I tease, surprising myself with how easy it feels to banter with him.
"The bear rug is in my bedroom," he deadpans, and I nearly choke.
He moves to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator. "You should eat something. I'm guessing you didn't get dinner before your club adventure."
The mention of Forbidden Chains brings reality crashing back. "Do you think that was really Jason? The guy from Ontario?"
Malik's expression darkens. "I don't know. Jake is having his team run the plates on the vehicle. Until we know for certain, we're operating under the assumption that it could be."
"I'm sorry for bringing this trouble to your doorstep," I say quietly. "To Sage's life."
He stops what he's doing and turns to face me fully. "Listen to me, Melody. You have nothing to apologize for. The only person at fault is the man who made you feel unsafe enough to flee your home."
Something in his intensity makes my breath catch. "You don't even know what happened."
"I know enough." He moves closer, not touching me but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body.
"I know you're smart, brave, and resourceful.
I know Sage loves you like a sister. And I know that anyone who hurt you deserves a hell of a lot worse than having to look over their shoulder. "
His words wash over me like a balm, soothing places inside me that have been raw and aching for months. Jason spent so long making me doubt myself that hearing such unwavering faith from this man I barely know feels revolutionary.
"Thank you," I whisper, not trusting my voice for more.
Malik nods once, then steps back. "Sandwich, okay? I'm not much of a cook, but I can manage that."
"Perfect." I'm grateful for the lighter turn in conversation. "Can I help?"
We work side by side in the kitchen, falling into an easy rhythm. He makes sandwiches while I find plates and glasses. The silence between us is comfortable rather than awkward.
"So," I say as we sit at the small dining table, "what happens now with our engagement? Should we send out announcements or just elope?" My attempt at humor falls a bit flat, but I need to address the elephant in the room.
Malik takes a bite of his sandwich, studying me. "Depends. How long do you want to keep up the charade?"
"I don't know," I admit. "If Jason is really here, it might be useful to have people think I'm attached. Especially to someone like you."
"Someone like me?" His eyebrow raises.
I take a sip of water to hide my flush. "You know. Intimidating. Capable of scaring off unwanted attention."
"So that’s what I am to you. A human shield?" There's something in his tone I can't quite identify. Amusement? Disappointment?
"I don’t know," I say honestly. "You're Sage's dad. My friend. My protector, apparently."
"And your fiancé." The way he says it sends a shiver down my spine. "At least at Forbidden Chains."
I set down my glass. "About that... I've been meaning to ask. What were you doing there anyway?"
"Looking for you." His gaze is direct, uncompromising. "After we got the alert about someone asking questions, I called Sage. She told me where you went."
"No, I mean, how did you get in so easily? The bouncer knew you."
Something flickers across his face. "I have connections in that world."
"What world?" I press, curiosity overriding my better judgment.
Malik sets down his sandwich and leans back in his chair. "The BDSM world, Melody. Club Crimson isn't just a wellness retreat. It's the premier private kink club in the region. I'm part of the security team there."
My heart rate kicks up. "Oh."
"Does that make you uncomfortable?"
I think about the commanding way he moved through Forbidden Chains, the natural authority in his stance, the control he exudes without effort.
"No," I say softly. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable."
His eyes darken slightly. "Interesting. Are you in that realm?"
"I've never..." I start, then stop, unsure how to continue.
"Never what?" His voice drops lower.
"Been to a real club. Like Club Crimson." I look down at my barely touched sandwich. "I was curious about Forbidden Chains. Wanted to see what it was like."
"Why?" The single word holds weight, like he's asking far more than it seems.
I gather my courage and meet his gaze. "Because I've always been interested. In that world. But never knew how to explore it safely."
Malik goes very still, his eyes never leaving mine. "That's not something to jump into lightly. Especially not at a place like Forbidden Chains."
"I know." I twist my napkin in my lap. "I didn't plan to participate. Just observe."
He leans forward, arms resting on the table. "Observation is participation in its own way. You put yourself in a vulnerable position tonight."
"Is that why you're angry?"
"I'm not angry." But the tension in his jaw suggests otherwise. "I'm concerned. Those environments require trust, experience, and clear communication. Walking in alone was dangerous."
I bristle at his tone. "I'm not a child, Malik. I can make my own decisions."
"Yes, you can. And tonight, you decided to claim me as your fiancé when you felt threatened." His words hit their mark. "What does that tell you about your instincts?"
The question is both challenging and intimate at the same time.
"That I trust you," I admit finally.
His expression softens. "You shouldn’t. Trust is earned, Melody. I'd rather earn yours than have it given blindly."
"How do we do that?" The question comes out more breathless than I intended.
Malik stands, taking our plates to the sink. "Time. Honesty. Boundaries."
I follow him, leaning against the counter as he rinses the dishes. "And if I want to learn more? About the lifestyle?"
His movements pause momentarily. "Then you find someone experienced. Someone who respects your limits and puts your safety first."
"Someone like you?" The words escape before I can stop them.
Malik turns to face me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "That would be a very bad idea."
"Why?" I challenge, heart racing.
"Need I state the obvious? You're Sage's best friend." His voice drops to a rumble that I feel in my bones. "Because you're vulnerable right now. Because I'm old enough to be your father."
"Those sound like excuses." I don't recognize this bold version of myself, but something about him pulls it out of me.
His hand rises, hesitates, then gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The simple touch sends electricity coursing through me.
"They're reasons," he corrects. "Good ones."
"But not the real reason," I whisper.
Malik's eyes darken. "The real reason is that once I start something, I finish it. And you have no idea what you're asking for."
The promise in those words makes my knees weak. We stand there, inches apart, the air crackling with tension. His gaze drops to my mouth, and I sway toward him.
The sharp ring of his phone shatters the moment. Malik steps back, pulling the device from his pocket. His expression shifts as he reads the screen.
"It's Jake, my boss," he says, voice suddenly all business. "They've identified the man asking questions."
"Is it Jason?" Fear spikes through me, cold and familiar.
Malik's eyes meet mine, and I see both relief and concern there. "No. Not Jason."
"Then who?"
"A private investigator." He runs a hand over his short hair. "Hired by someone in Toronto to track your movements."
The relief is short-lived as implications sink in. "Jason hired him."
"Most likely." Malik's jaw tightens. "But this changes things. PIs usually observe, not engage. If he's asking questions openly, he's either bad at his job or..."
"Or what?"
"Or he wants you to know you're being watched." Malik's protective instinct visibly kicks in. "I’m staying here with you tonight. We'll figure out next steps in the morning."
I nod, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline of the evening catches up to me all at once.
"The bedroom's through there," he says, nodding toward a hallway. "I'll take the couch."
"You don't have to?—"
"I do." His tone brooks no argument. "Get some rest, Melody. You're safe here."
As I turn to go, I pause. "Malik? Thank you. For everything."
He gives me a small nod, his eyes holding mine for a beat too long. "Goodnight, Melody."
I retreat to the bedroom, closing the door behind me. My fingers rise to touch my lips, where his kiss almost happened. Where I wanted it to happen.
This is dangerous territory. But despite every logical reason to keep my distance, all I can think about is how it felt to almost be in his arms, to have those dark eyes focused entirely on me, to feel seen, protected, and desired all at once.
I'm playing with fire. But for once in my pathetic life, I feel alive.