23. Luke
CHAPTER 23
Luke
Dark clouds had rolled in overnight, bringing
humidity but not a drop of rain. The gloomy sky added to the ominous sense of foreboding in my gut as Theo drove me to Melanie’s house. His auction “date” was already over. The woman who’d won him had wanted him to play football with her four sons. He’d had a great day.
As for me, how would this go down? Would Melanie and I spend the evening fighting? Or maybe find some common ground? Hard to say. When it came to Melanie Andolini, you could never be quite sure what you were going to get.
There was excitement in that, though. I could feel the tingle of adrenaline flowing through me. I didn’t know why she did that to me, how the anticipation of seeing her lit me up more than a race ever could. But it happened all the time.
I liked it.
It was dangerous. She was dangerous, and I knew it. We’d crashed and burned once, and the fallout had been worse than bruised ribs and a wrecked car. It had taken me years to get over her.
Maybe I never really had .
“How are you feeling?” Theo asked.
The pain from my injuries had mostly receded to a dull ache as long as I didn’t make any sudden movements. “Not too bad. Thanks again for the ride. I could probably drive, but—”
“Don’t,” he said, cutting me off. “You start driving before you’re healed enough, and you’ll just do more damage.”
“Fair enough.”
He hesitated for a moment. “We’re not going to talk about it, are we?”
I knew what he meant. Melanie. “Nope.”
“Okay. But…”
“But what?”
He glanced at me as we pulled into her driveway. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Not at all.” I unfastened the seat belt, grabbed the takeout we’d picked up from Copper Kettle Diner, and opened the door.
“Need a ride home?”
“Maybe. I’ll text you if I do.”
“All right, man. Make good choices.”
I chuckled. “Thanks, Mom.”
He grinned as I got out and shut the door.
With a deep breath, I watched him back out of the driveway, then I walked up to her front door. Here goes nothing.
I knocked and waited. No answer. I knocked again, louder this time. Maybe she hadn’t heard me. I waited. Still nothing.
Where was she? I pulled my phone out of my pocket, but she hadn’t messaged me. We’d said six, and it was a few minutes past. Was she home? Was she all right?
I knocked again, hard. “Melanie? You okay?”
No answer.
That was alarming. Had the sense of foreboding actually meant something was wrong? I tried the doorknob, and it opened .
“Mel?” I called, poking my head in. “Are you there?”
She didn’t answer. She’d probably chew me out for going in, especially if she was just in the bathroom or something. But we had plans. I wasn’t too proud to admit this was making me worry about her.
I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. The entryway led to a living area with a couch and coffee table. The dining room had no table, and the kitchen counters were almost bare.
Hesitating, I listened. No noise. Was she home? Was I an idiot for being there?
Probably. But I walked farther into the house anyway. A short hallway led to the bedrooms. I moved quietly, ready to duck if she jumped out and swung at me again. I had enough bruises. I didn’t need another fist in the face.
“Mel?” I whispered.
One of the bedroom doors was slightly ajar. I moved close enough to see through the crack.
There she was, lying on the bed, asleep. She was fully dressed, and the bed was made, like she’d flopped down and fallen asleep without meaning to. Her arm draped over her forehead, some of her hair was stuck to her cheek, and one foot hung over the edge of the bed.
Such a beautiful mess.
For a second, I thought about taking a picture. Mostly because I knew she’d hate it. But I decided not to provoke her. She’d paid good money for me. The least I could do was be nice.
I took our dinner to the kitchen—sandwiches with extra pickles for Mel—and put them in the fridge. Then I eased myself onto the couch to wait for her to wake up.
It didn’t take long. I grinned with amusement as I heard a commotion coming from her bedroom. It almost sounded like she’d fallen off the bed. She started muttering to herself, banging things around, and a moment later, she burst out of the bedroom.
“Where’s my phone?”
She rushed past me into the kitchen and started digging through her purse.
“Why do you need your phone?”
“I need to call Lu—” Stopping abruptly, she turned. “You’re here.”
“We said six.”
“Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night. I didn’t mean to take a nap. I was only going to rest my eyes for a few minutes. Wait, how did you get in?”
“The door was unlocked.”
Her eyes widened. “What? Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“No, it wasn’t. I never leave it unlocked.” Sounding oddly panicked, she went over to the door and locked the deadbolt. “When did I unlock it? Must have been when I took the trash out. But I always lock it when I come in.”
“It was the middle of the day. It’s fine.”
“But you walked right in.” The pitch of her voice started to rise, and the words tumbled out of her mouth. “The door was open, and anyone could have come in. There you are, sitting on the couch because I left it unlocked and I don’t know how I did that.”
I stood and walked over to her, full of concern. “Why are you so upset?”
She was practically in tears. “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” I reached out and took her by the upper arms, gently so I didn’t startle her. “Mel, it’s okay. Nothing bad happened. You’re safe.”
She covered her face and collapsed against my chest. I winced a little, but ignored the pain and wrapped my arms around her. She shook with sobs as I held her tight. I wasn’t sure what else to do. Melanie was not a crier, so seeing her reduced to tears was unsettling.
“It’s okay,” I murmured, rubbing slow circles across her back. “I’ve got you.”
She felt dangerously good in my arms. Soft and familiar. Her lightly vanilla scent enveloped me, and I let my eyes close as I breathed her in.
After several long moments, she stopped crying. Her body stilled, and with her face still buried in my chest, she took a few deep breaths.
“Sorry.” She moved back, and I reluctantly let her go. “I’m fine.”
“Obviously, you’re not. What’s going on?”
Wiping her eyes, she shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Mel, don’t do that.”
She stepped away, turning toward the kitchen. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Yes, you are. Just tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I’m sleep deprived.” Her voice was returning to normal, and she waved me off as she opened the fridge. “You know how weird I get when I don’t sleep.”
Something was not adding up. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
She stood in front of the fridge, her back to me. “I don’t know.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Yes, you are.” I couldn’t keep the frustration out of my voice as I followed her into the kitchen. “Why won’t you just tell me what’s wrong?”
“I did. I’m tired.”
“You’re not just tired. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Will you stop shutting me out?” I snapped.
She whirled on me, slamming the fridge door. “I’m scared, okay? I’m fucking terrified. ”
“Of what?”
“Him. He’s still out there.”
“Who’s him? What are you talking about?”
She was breathing hard, and the fear in her eyes almost broke me. I closed the distance between us, wrapped my arms around her, and hauled her against me, heedless of the ache in my ribs.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice soft. “Who hurt you?”
For a second, she was stiff, and I expected her to shove me away. But her body softened, relaxing as I gently rubbed her back.
“It’s a long story,” she whispered.
“We’ve got time.” I squeezed her, then took her hands and led her to the couch. “Tell me.”
She followed without protest and sat down next to me. I waited for a moment while she fiddled with her hands.
Finally, she spoke. “It was eleven years ago, when I lived in LA. I was abducted outside my apartment.”
“Holy shit, Mel.”
“He grabbed me from behind and choked me out. Then he injected me with something that kept me unconscious for a while. It was late, so no one saw anything. When I woke up, I was so out of it, it’s hard to remember what actually happened. But I was tied up and in the trunk of a car.”
She stopped talking, her eyes downcast. I took her hand, twining our fingers together, and waited for her to continue.
“Eventually, the car stopped, and someone opened the trunk. He started talking to me, telling me he was going to untie my feet so I could walk and how he wasn’t going to hurt me. Then he asked if I’d be good if he untied me. I remember nodding that I would.
“He cut the tape from my ankles and helped me out of the trunk. He was wearing a mask so I couldn’t see his face, but I’ll never forget his voice. It was soft, like he was talking to a pet or a child. He took my hands and started to lead me away from the car. There was another one parked there. It was like he was going to switch vehicles.”
She paused again, and I squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.
“Honestly, I don’t remember a lot about what happened after that. It’s all a blur. I just knew I couldn’t let him take me anywhere else. So I started fighting. I kicked him and hit him even though my hands were still tied. I must have managed to kick him in the balls because he fell to the ground. So I kicked him again, hoping to knock him out. And then I ran.”
I pulled her against me, and she settled her head on my chest. She took a deep breath, and her body seemed to relax. Anger simmered deep inside me. I wanted to find whoever had done that to her and rip him to pieces.
“Luckily, I ran in the right direction and got to a road. A car pulled over and of course they freaked out when they saw I was tied up. They called 911 and stayed with me until the police got there.”
“I take it they didn’t find the guy.”
“No. Never. It all happened so fast, I didn’t have a lot of details. I couldn’t even remember the color of the car, and I didn’t see what he looked like. There was some trace evidence, but it didn’t lead them anywhere.”
I kept my arms around her and let out a long breath. “So that’s why you punched me in the face that day.”
She nodded against my chest. “See? You can hardly blame me.”
“Actually, I’m kinda proud of you.”
Pulling away slightly, she looked up at me. “Why?”
“It was a badass move. If I’d been trying to grab you from behind, you probably would have stopped me.”
Her mouth turned up in a smile. “Thanks.”
I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Is that why you couldn’t sleep? ”
She nodded again. “I have nightmares.”
“I can’t believe they didn’t find him.”
“I know. It was awful. It’s also kind of why I moved in with Jared, my ex. We hadn’t been dating very long, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“So you could say you got married under duress.”
Her smile grew. “You could say that, yes.”
I hugged her against me again. Mostly because I wanted to comfort her—make everything better somehow. But also because she felt so good, I couldn’t resist.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“Thanks. I’ve had a lot of therapy to deal with it, but nothing has ever helped with the nightmares. I don’t have them every night or anything, but when I do, it’s over. No more sleep.”
“That’s so shitty. It’s bad enough you had to go through something like that. But to have to keep living with it.”
“Definitely zero stars. Do not recommend.”
I rested my cheek on the top of her head. We sat there for a while, just breathing.
“Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you bring dinner?”
That made me laugh. The woman had just opened up to me, and the next thing she wanted was food. “Yes, I brought dinner. I put it in the fridge.”
“Don’t get up. I’ll get it. But how did I not notice it in there?”
“I don’t know. Your fridge is almost empty.”
She eased herself off me and stood. “Don’t judge me for being broke. My boss is a cheapskate.”
I shook my head while she went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. “So, how mad is Hank that you bid on me instead of him at the auction?”
She turned toward me, her eyes flashing .
I was definitely getting too close to the fire.
“Not mad in the least, I suppose, considering he dumped me after our second date. However, I’d like to state for the record that I was going to dump him, he just said it first. It was a mutual dumping.”
I couldn’t help the slow grin that crept over my face. Not with Hank? That was interesting information.
“How mad is Jenna that I won instead of her?”
“Why would she be mad?”
“Maybe because you’re dating,” she said, like I’d just asked a stupid question.
“We’re not dating.”
Her voice went low and sultry. “Do not lie to me, Luke Haven.”
“I’m not.”
“Excuse me,” she said, returning to her natural voice as she took the to-go boxes out of the fridge and set them on the counter. “I saw you on a date with her.”
My brow furrowed. “Yeah, we went out that one time. That doesn’t mean we’re dating.”
“Does she know that? Because she cost me a hell of a lot of money last night trying to outbid me for you.”
“She knows. I texted her this morning. It felt weird to leave it unfinished. But if I recall, you jumped in to outbid her, not the other way around.”
“Fine, aliens briefly took over my body and made me bid entirely too much money for an evening with you.”
“Are you kidding? A guy with all this?” I gestured at myself. “You got me for a steal.”
She grabbed the to-go boxes and brought them in, setting them on the coffee table. “You’re basically useless. You can’t even fix my car or chop wood for me or whatever the other bachelors are all doing tonight. I’ll probably have to give you a ride home. ”
“Yeah, I definitely need a ride home. But I brought dinner.”
Lowering herself onto the couch next to me, she sighed dramatically. “I suppose that is something. What are we having?”
“Sandwiches. I know it’s not fancy, but you said it’s not a date.”
“I did say that.” She opened her box and gasped. “Look at all those pickles!”
“There should be more on the sandwich.”
She picked one up and took a crunchy bite. “So good.”
I shook my head slightly. “See? I was worth every penny.”
“I take back all the bad things I’ve said about you. At least in the last week.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
Still eating, she nudged my arm with her elbow. The brush of her skin against mine sent a wave of heat surging through me. The urge to turn and kiss her was so strong, I almost lost my mind and did it.
But I didn’t. I held back.
She glanced at me from the corner of her eye, and I didn’t miss the flash of suspicion that crossed her face. I picked up my sandwich and took a bite.
Don’t do it, Luke. Don’t go there.
We ate our dinner and then she declared that my final duty as her bachelor of the evening was to make her popcorn and watch a movie with her. She picked some romantic period film, probably thinking I wasn’t going to like it. Joke was on her, because I did.
The wet spot on my chest from her tears dried, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way she’d felt in my arms was burned into my memory. Soft, warm, familiar. And good. Way too good. But it wasn’t just how she’d cried while I’d held her, it was everything she’d been through.
A streak of fierce protectiveness raged inside me. I wanted to find the piece of shit who’d hurt her and make sure she never had to worry about him again. I wanted to keep her safe and secure, so she could sleep without fear. Be the wall that guarded her, no matter what it cost me.
Except I didn’t know if I could. Because if I went down that road again, it was going to cost me everything.