Protecting Melissa (Holiday Cove 4)

“Melissa,” Chase reached for me but I took a step backward, out of his range.

“Melissa, you can’t stay on the run forever,” Matt said, his tone gentle. “That’s no kind of life for you and it’s not what you want for Jackson either.”

I glanced down the dark hallway, thinking of my precious baby sleeping through the night. He would be peaceful and dreaming of the day spent exploring the city or maybe dreaming about the fish he’d seen out snorkeling the day before. He was oblivious of everything going on around him and I wanted to keep it that way. But could I really keep this up for a year? Or five? Ten? It would only get harder as he aged. There would be more questions. Harder questions.

“I know this is difficult, Melissa, but you have to trust that I can fix this,” Matt continued, his voice like a hostage negotiator on a cop drama TV show.

My whole body went numb and I handed the phone back to Chase right before I slid down onto the couch. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m too tired.”

“Matt, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Chase hung up the phone and came to sit beside me on the couch. He wrapped his arms around me and coaxed me into laying my head against his chest. As soon as my head hit the wall of muscle, I broke apart, and a river of tears escaped from the dam I’d tried so hard to hold together.

“What am I going to do, Chase?” I sobbed against his shirt.

He squeezed me tighter. “We’re going to figure this out, Melissa. I promise.”

37

Melissa

At some point, Chase carried me off to my bed, just like he had with Jackson hours before. He tucked me in beside my son and brushed a silent kiss to my forehead before leaving the room to go to his own. My tears were dried on my face but as soon as my head hit the pillow, a new flood started. I clung to Jackson and forced myself to be quiet so I didn’t wake him.

I lost track of time but after a long stretch, I got out of bed, giving up the battle to try and fall asleep. Jackson was getting restless, and I knew he’d wake up if I kept tossing and turning. I tiptoed out of bed, slipped into a pair of sandals, and grabbed a light sweater from the closet. The walls of the cottage were closing in around me. I needed fresh air.

As quietly as I could, I went outside and started down the beach. The moon was bright and high in the sky, illuminating the sand with a soft glow of light, so I didn’t need a flashlight to find my way. I walked at a slow pace, taking deep breaths in an attempt to clear my head and tame the wild thoughts that plagued me after the conversation with Matt.

The idea of going to California and facing off against Henry in court was a nightmare in and of itself. Matt had some strong confidence that I couldn’t fathom. I knew I should trust him. That was why I’d hired him—well, that and the fact that his office was in the same office as my doctor and therefore less likely to raise a red flag when I visited—but that was back when I just wanted a quiet divorce. Now, not only was a quiet divorce an impossible dream—but I’d blasted the one shot I had at getting full custody all to hell by running away with Jackson. To Mexico no less.

Fuck.

Me.

All logic told me it could have ended up worse. I could be six feet under right now and Jackson would be without a mother. I cringed at the thought of one of Henry’s whore’s taking care of my son.

I wondered if Henry would have hosted a lovely funeral for me. Would he have made a speech in my honor? What would he have said to the other guests? To my friends and extended family? Would he have stood there and cried at my gravesite? Knowing full well that he was the one responsible for putting me in the ground? I shivered at all the questions and shoved the morbid curiosity from my mind.

If Henry had gotten his way, I would’ve never even met Chase. I wouldn’t have ever had the chance to experience something other than the controlled, possessive life Henry had demanded of me.

And I definitely wouldn’t be having a second child. The fact I was pregnant was a small miracle. I’d spent years thinking I’d never have another child. I’d learned to come to terms with it and counted Jackson as all the more precious and special. But even after trying, maybe somehow, the universe or my body just knew that another child with Henry wasn’t right.