Eight
Shane
Iwoke up to the sound of my phone ringing, the noise cutting through the silence like a broken tape on repeat. Groggily, I fumbled for it on the nightstand, sliding away from Paige. Her arm was draped across me like a shackle. I freed myself from her embrace, and last night’s memories hit me like a wrecking ball. After we left the club, I took her to my car to fuck. Or the other way around because as soon as we got in the car, she was all over me, kissing and undressing me like a horned cat. She was ready to ride me there on the backseat of my Bugatti, but I couldn’t. Anders’ words kept echoing in my ears again. All over again, my mind started picturing all the possible things my brother did to the woman I loved in my very own car. Fuck, now I had to get rid of my brand-new Bugatti that I had bought just a month ago. I ended up taking Paige to my apartment. All night long, she eagerly tried to satisfy me as if trying to prove she was the best I’d ever had. Well, quite the opposite. The worst sex ever.
Obliviously hugging the space where I used to be, Paige mumbled in her sleep. I ran my hands through my face, trying to wake myself up. The room was still dim. I squinted at my phone. It was just five in the morning. An unknown number flashed on my phone screen. Five unanswered calls. I got out of bed and walked toward a large window with a view of Manhattan, my phone to my ear. A deep breath escaped my lungs as I listened to loud, long beeps. Until the voice on the other end sent a jolt through me.
“Shane?”
I froze. In an instant, I was well awake. “Melanie?”
“I was afraid you’d changed your phone number.” Her uncertain voice was barely above a whisper.
My gaze dropped, and my cheek sucked in. “I’ve kept it. In case you ever called.”
The line fell into a deafening silence. Each second felt like a void in my heart was growing further.
“Where are you, babe?” Paige’s sleepy voice broke the muteness.
I exhaled deeply, my eyes closed shut. I knew Melanie had heard it, and for some fucked up reason, it hurt me. Maybe I was being delusional, but I was hoping deep down she still had feelings for me. Even after all that happened. I felt like I was betraying her, betraying our love. At the same time, I couldn’t get the images of her and Anders out of my head, which led me to this point.
No, I wasn’t a saint. I’d had some women during these three years. I’d had episodes when I would get wasted and end up with some random chick. Mainly on the nights when I drowned in my thoughts. The haunting thoughts that she had moved on with somebody else. That she had moved on with another man.
Fuck, I had never assumed the other man is my brother.
I even had a period when I wanted to forget Melanie and move on. After all, she disappeared and gave me no sign of life for three years. She tried to vanish and move on without me, so I wanted to do the same.
I failed. Every time.
“You’re… not alone.” Melanie’s tone was half a statement, half a question.
“Does it bother you?”
“Not at all.” She cleared her throat.
She couldn’t see it, but I nodded. My gaze dropped, and I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “Why are you calling me at this hour, Melanie? Did something happen?”
She hesitated for a moment before mumbling in a hushed tone, “I’m at Presbyterian Hospital. Your father has been shot. He’s in the surgery.”
A cold chill swept through my body. “I’ll be there soon,” I said and hung up. My mind was in a haze. What happened that my father had been shot? Why was it Melanie to notify me about it?
I felt the warmth of Paige’s hands wrapping around me from behind. Her breath brushed against my nape. “It was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
I took her hands and removed them from my body. “I have to go.”
She arched her black brow, her eyes searching mine. “Did something happen?”
“I’ll leave you the keys. Drop them in the mailbox on your way out.”
Her lips parted in a gasp, but I didn’t care. I quickly put on my pants and a shirt and hurried out of there.
Such an asshole, I know.
I moved through the sterile hallway of the hospital, Wyatt following a few steps behind. He was earnest about his job. Not only did he handle things for me as my right-hand man, but he also followed me everywhere like a ghost, securing my life with his. Two other guards stayed in front of the hospital. I didn’t know what happened or who shot my father, so I had to take all the precautions. As I walked further, the antiseptic scent hit my nose. Something I hated about hospitals. I reached the VIP wing. Wyatt moved by the wall, assuming his bodyguard-like position, trying to remain invisible. His hands clasped on his abdomen, his gaze on the wall opposite him. My gaze stuck on her. Melanie. She was leaning against the wall, a hospital blanket draped around her arms. Her shirt was stained with blood. I had to use all my willpower to quell the urge to run toward her and hold her in my arms. I put on a cold attitude and approached her. My tone betrayed no emotion. “How is he?”
Melanie looked up, her eyes still shaken. “He’s still in the surgery. The bullet might be lodged in his lung. They won’t tell. I’m not family.”
My eyes narrowed as I looked at her, scrutinizing the nervous expression that I knew far too well. “What happened, Melanie?”
Her gaze faltered for a moment. Her brows furrowed, and she started fidgeting her fingers. Something she would always do whenever anxious. “It was Callan. He shot your father,” the words blurted out of her mouth.
Callan. A man whom I had treated like a brother for years. I expected nothing more from this piece of shit. Not after he betrayed me like this, lying about Melanie. But this… hit differently. “Why?” I hovered over Melanie, my tone low.
Her head tilted back to look me in the eyes. “I don’t know,” she stammered.
“You don’t, huh?” I didn’t believe her. How could I after she ran away with him three years ago? It would only make sense she was covering for him now. And it hurt. It fucking hurt that she would choose anyone over me.
I stepped closer, trapping her between the wall and my arms I rested against it. “What were you doing with my father?”
“He came to talk to Anders, but he wasn’t there,” she said, her voice cracking. “Then Callan showed up out of nowhere.” She cupped her face in her trembling hands, choking on her tears.
Involuntarily, my fist slammed the wall behind her. “For fuck’s sake, stop protecting that bastard. Tell me what you know. Tell me the truth for once.”
She didn’t say anything. Her head shook, tears streaming down her face. Her body was quivering uncontrollably. Her breathing became more rapid, shallower. It seemed like she barely stood on her feet. I saw she was scared of something. Or someone. I knew she was hiding something from me. I just didn’t know what yet. In a way, I hated seeing her so broken like this. Maybe I was a fool for wanting to protect her even now. Supposedly, she was my brother’s fiancée. But I couldn’t help the urge. I pulled her body closer and held her tight. My hand rubbed her back, stroking her wavy, dark hair.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” I whispered, resting my chin against the tip of her head. “Please, don’t cry.”
She buried her head in my chest. It felt so right. Having her in my arms. I moved my nose nearer to her neck, inhaling the scent of her that hit my nose. The scent I had longed for so long. The scent was a soothing remedy.“I’m sorry,” I said again, brushing her hair to the side.
What the fuck?
My gaze got stuck on the embroidered initials on the tip of the collar of the shirt she wore. My initials. It didn’t take me long to put two and two together. She was here alone. Anders left after me. They weren’t living together. And damn. If she had kept my shit all these years, she must still have feelings for me too.
Now, what game are you playing, Melanie?Why did she keep playing her part so stubbornly?“Where’s Anders?” I slowly leaned back to look at her face. She wanted to play games? Well, count me in.
Melanie wiped the tears away, still sobbing. But her eyes widened, and she shoved me away. “Keep your hands to yourself, Shane.”
“What if I don’t want to?” I cocked my head, a wry smirk playing on my lips.
Melanie’s eyes flickered between mine before she found her voice. “You have no right to touch me like this. Anders wouldn’t be happy if he saw us.”
“And where is he?” I looked around in a tease.
Melanie’s face flushed with embarrassment and anger. Sensing it was all fake, I couldn’t deny the sight was quite amusing.
“It’s none of your business. I don’t need a protector hovering over me all the damn time. Anders knows it, and he respects my space, unlike you.”
She rushed to leave, but I caught her elbow. Instinctively, she turned to face me again. Our gazes locked. Our faces were inches apart. “I told you already. You’re a liar,” I said.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Anders heading our way. I drew Melanie closer in, and a gasp escaped her lips as she fell into my arms. “Meet me tomorrow at eight.”
“Why would I want to meet with you?”
“Because no matter the circumstances, we have a history we can’t escape. Neither of us.”