5. Cale
cale
There’s no missing the flashing lights as I turn onto my street—blue and red swirls that cast an ominous glow over the houses.
I can’t see which house the cruisers are in front of, but it’s too close.
A chill of premonition settles into my bones, and I press my foot down harder on the accelerator.
This isn’t a familiar sight in a quiet town like this, but it’s not my house I’m worried about.
In fact, I’m kind of hoping it is my house.
I pull in behind a cruiser and jump out, my stomach sinking further as I watch uniformed cops swarm Melanie’s place, tramping in and out of a crooked front door.
Alarm hits like a sledgehammer, my heart kicking into a harried pace. I push through a gathered crowd of neighbors, all of them gaping like they’re watching a real-life cop show. I search each face as I pass, but Melanie and Oakley aren’t with them.
Panic sizzles through my veins until I round the front of another cruiser, and there, partially hidden behind it, is Melanie.
She’s standing as far back as she can get, her dark hair loose around her face.
Oakley is standing in front of her, his back to her legs, and her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.
They’re both staring at the house, wearing matching expressions of shock.
I don’t second-guess myself, striding in their direction. Melanie must sense me coming because she looks up, eyes locking with mine, the glare of the lights casting harsh shadows over her face.
“Melanie,” I rasp, relief filling my voice, my panic ebbing as I stop a foot away. “Are you okay? What happened?”
There’s the slightest wobble to her chin as she opens her mouth, but it’s not Melanie who answers me.
“Someone broke into our house.” I jerk my attention down to Oakley, finding his watery eyes fixed on me.
“They broke all our stuff, Cale.” There’s a crack to his voice that hits me hard.
He sounds so goddamn bewildered, and I look at Melanie, finding her eyes squeezed shut.
It doesn’t stop a tear from escaping, slowly sliding down her cheek.
Unable to stop myself, I close the distance between us, pulling them both into my arms. Melanie resists at first, her body going taut, but then her head tucks under my chin, Oakley squished between us as she leans against me.
I brace myself to take their weight, one hand on his head and the other smoothing over Melanie’s back.
“You’re okay,” I rumble, resting my head on hers, smelling the sweet, fruity scent of her shampoo. “You’re safe, and you’re okay.”
They don’t say anything, and we remain locked like that for several minutes. Melanie’s breathing evens out until it’s not hitching with every breath, but my hand never stops moving over her back.
A throat clears beside us, and she tries to yank herself away from me.
I loosen my hold without releasing her completely as she looks over at the grim-faced police officer watching us.
I shift around so I’m standing beside her, keeping an arm around Melanie and holding Oakley’s shoulder.
She’s shaking under me, and it makes me feel so goddamn helpless.
Melanie doesn’t pull away, and that has to be enough for now.
“Ma’am, is there somewhere you can stay tonight?” the cop asks quietly, his tone solemn. “Maybe family?”
I frown, wishing I knew the answer to this. I don’t know what kind of people she has in town, except for her asshole ex, but she doesn’t get a lot of visitors.
Her lashes flutter. “What?” she whispers hoarsely.
He sighs heavily, like the night is weighing on him. My lips twist into a scowl. It wasn’t his fucking house that was violated.
“Ma’am, your front door is broken, and several windows are smashed. We’ll need you to do a walkthrough, tell us if anything’s missing, and pack a bag for the both of you.” He glances down at Oakley, but the kid’s staring at the house. “You can’t stay here tonight.”
“I don’t—I can’t—” The trembling increases tenfold, and I know she’s reached her breaking point.
“They’ll stay with me,” I cut in firmly, tipping my head toward my house. “I’m right next door. They’ll be safe there.” My hand still on his shoulder, I tug Oakley more firmly against me, a physical claim I don’t think too hard about.
The cop narrows his eyes at me. I don’t look away, staring straight back at him. After a beat, he looks over at Melanie, brows raised in question. “Ma’am?”
She looks at me, a protest ready on her lips. I look back at her steadily, letting her see the resolve on my face, and she droops, her silent acquiesce clear. I give her a reassuring smile, running my hand over her upper arm.
“Let me do this,” I whisper. “Oakley knows my place, and he knows me. He’ll feel safe, and we can distract him with some games.” It’s a testament to the kid’s shock that he barely even twitches at my words.
Melanie clamps her teeth down on her bottom lip, but it doesn’t quite hide the quiver. I fight the urge to press my thumb against it, forcing her to release it, followed by the temptation to lean down and press my mouth to hers, trying the sweetness I already know she’ll taste like.
What the fuck?
Knuckling that inappropriate as hell reaction down, I settle for swiping my thumb across her cheek, rubbing away the tears that keep trickling from her eyes, making the blue seem more luminous than usual.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I tell her. “I’ll stay with you every step of the way, alright?”
She nods, but then shakes her head in the next breath. “Can you…” Her eyes bounce down to her son. “Stay with Oakley. Please.”
I hesitate, hating that she’ll have to do this by herself, but knowing that Oakley has to come first. He’s traumatized enough without seeing any more of the damage, and I won’t leave him out here alone.
“Maybe I can go in for you,” I offer. “You stay out here…” I trail off when she shakes her head.
“You won’t know if anything’s m-missing,” she says, voice breaking. But then she’s stepping away, firming her shoulders. “It’s okay. I got this.”
“Yeah, darlin’,” I tell her, my voice low.
“You got this.” She gives me a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
It fades as she glances down at a quiet Oakley.
I crouch down beside him, putting us on eye level and ignoring the way my knees creak.
He drags his eyes from the house to me, still looking shell-shocked.
“Don’t worry about me and Killer,” I tell Melanie. “We’ll wait for you right here.”
“Killer,” she mutters, rolling her eyes, and the glimpse of her usual self brings me a sense of calm. Melanie gives the two of us one more long look, and then she turns away, following the cop into the house.
Melanie comes down the hallway into the kitchen, looking pale and utterly drained. I lean against the counter, eyeing her, hating everything she and Oakley have been through tonight, but also enjoying the fact that they’re in my space and not entirely sure why I feel that way.
“Killer asleep?”
“Yeah. Took a long time, though.”
“Not a surprise.” I muse. “He needed to work off all that energy after kicking my ass three times.” That gets me a wan smile. “You want a beer?” She hesitates before dipping her chin. I grab two bottles out of the fridge, twisting the caps off before handing her one. “Come on. We’ll sit outside.”
I switch the outside lights on as she follows me out onto the deck, the two of us sitting at the small wooden table facing the backyard.
“Thank you.” Melanie sighs as she sits, eyes focused upward, where stars glitter across the cloudless sky. “Hell of a night.”
“No kidding,” I watch as she tips the bottle to her lips, her throat working as she swallows. We haven’t really talked much about what happened, not with Oakley around, so I ask, “You doing okay?”
“Yeah.” Her smile falls away as fast as it appears, and she corrects herself. “No. I will be, but right now…Thank you for coming to our rescue.” She tips her beer at me before taking another swig. “You didn’t have to.”
“I did,” I counter softly. “Was there much taken? From your place.”
She bites her lip again, and I hate myself for tracking the movement, pressing my thumb and index finger together, reminding myself I can’t reach out and touch her. I don’t have that right.
“No,” she whispers. “Everything was just…”
“What, darlin’?”
“Broken,” she says, her voice an almost inaudible breath. “The furniture was all tipped over. The couch cushions were slashed. The TV looked like someone had taken a bat to it, and the windows…” There’s a thread of disbelief in her voice. “My laptop…It’s in pieces.”
I curse, low and long. “You say that like it’s the worst thing.”
“It is.” She looks at me then, her eyes bright with unshed tears, two bright splotches of color in her cheeks.
“I’m a graphic designer, and I work from home.
I have deadlines, and if the insurance doesn’t come through quickly…
” She shakes her head, chin quivering. “I’ve got no other income.
I mean, I have some savings, but since Davis—”
I frown when she cuts herself off, anger simmering under my skin. “He doesn’t pay child support?” She lets out a caustic bark of laughter, and that’s answer enough. “Motherfucker.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “Motherfucker.”
“The cops thought it might be someone you know, right? Because they had to know when you were out to hit the house.”
“I don’t know anyone who would do something like this.” I consider that, a thought sliding through my mind. I don’t say it out loud as she finishes off her beer, slamming it down next to my untouched bottle on the table.
“Where would you have gone if I hadn’t been there?”
“A motel, I guess.” She lifts her shoulder in a shrug, her jaw clenched tight.
“No family around?”
She shakes her head, a helpless expression crossing her face. “My parents live about ten hours away, but we’ve…” She inhales sharply, the sound hitching in her throat. “We aren’t close. Oakley…He doesn’t know them.”
I lean back in my chair, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “And your ex’s family?”
“He doesn’t have any.” Her head tips to the side, eyes locking with mine. “It’s just me and Oak.” We stare at each other for a still second, and then she just crumples before my eyes, her body curling in on itself as a sob escapes her throat.
I don’t overthink it, standing enough to reach over and snag her wrist, dragging her around the table and into my lap.
She doesn’t fight me, just like earlier, curling up sideways, her face buried in my chest. I wrap my arms around Melanie, squeezing her even as I feel the sobs that rack her body, whispering nonsensical shit to her.
“Let it out, darlin’,” I murmur, nuzzling my face against the top of her head. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
I don’t know how long we sit there for, one of my hands gripping her thigh and the other around her shoulders.
By the time she quiets down, my shirt is damp where her tears have soaked through.
I don’t let her go, keeping her pinned to me, thinking about how nothing has ever felt as right as she does in my arms.