by KB Winters
“Why didn’t you leave him then?” The question bubbled out before I could stop myself.
Melissa laughed. “I don’t know. The hope thing I guess. We talked about having a second baby. I figured he’d be around more and maybe we could rekindle what we’d once had. But then Talia came along.”
“Talia? Oh, right, the…”
“Whore.” Melissa cringed. “I shouldn’t say that… especially now that she’s…dead.”
“Who was she?”
“Henry’s mistress. See, the others, he’d kept to himself. From the outside, he looked like a skirt-chaser but he never had the audacity to parade his women in public. Talia was different. He took her on lavish trips, to charity functions, on business dinners. She was his public mistress. A big fuck you to his little wife back home, breaking her back to take care of a toddler all alone.” The bitterness in Melissa’s voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Even in the middle of all the stress of the past couple of days, I’d never seen her angry.
“So she was the catalyst to you wanting to find a way out, then?”
“Essentially.” Melissa nodded and then threw back the rest of her wine. “Henry and I started fighting and arguing whenever he was home. He’d gotten angrier and more…physical…over the years, but when it came to Talia. God, he would just lose his shit. If I said her name, I’d get thrown to the floor. He was protective of her, or at least his freedom to see her. It’s all crazy, now that I know he was responsible for her death.”
Melissa paused for a second, as though trying to make the pieces fit together before throwing out the puzzle. She reached for the wine bottle and poured the rest into her glass. “One night, about two years ago, after Jackson was asleep, we got into a huge argument. We’d been trying to have a second baby, but when Talia came into the picture, I started sneaking birth control pills. Somehow he found out and when he confronted me about it, things got out of control. He threw me down and kicked me so hard I thought my ribs would break…” she sucked in a breath.
I reached across the table and set my hand on hers. “You don’t have to tell me this…”
Her eyes met mine. “I want to. You need to know what you’re up against.”
Our eyes stayed locked together. “He knew he couldn’t hit me because people—the staff—would see the bruises. But he kicked me and hit me where no one would see and told me he was done with me. That if I wasn’t going to give him another child then he was done. He threw all of my belongings out of our bedroom and I moved into the guest room that night. After that, we still went to events together and I played the perfect, doting wife and did as he asked—but it was only so I could make plans to get away.”
“Damn. I’m sorry, Melissa. You should have never had to go through that.”
Contrary to earlier, there wasn’t a tear in her eye. “I won’t go back, Chase.”
O’Keefe would only get his hands on her over my dead body. If he wanted her, he was going to have to go through me.
And I wasn’t about to let that happen.
Chapter Nine
Chase
We made good time and two days later, we arrived in Cabo and docked among a small cluster of other boats and yachts. Matt’s boat blended right in with the other vessels that likely belonged to ex-pats and winter birds on extended vacation. Melissa, Jackson, and I had settled into a comfortable routine aboard the boat, but when we docked, it was obvious we were all getting a little stir-crazy and ready for a chance to stretch our legs.
Melissa in particular.
“I think we should go get a big, authentic Mexican dinner!” she declared, once I’d secured the boat to the dock and arrived back on deck.
“A fiesta!” Jackson cheered. Obviously, Melissa had given him a crash course in Spanish.
I laughed. “How can I say no?”
“You can’t,” Melissa said, flashing me a flirty smile.
“All right. A fiesta it is, then.” I made sure no personal items were left out and locked everything up and set the alarm before we set off, keeping close together, as we went up the coast to the main part of town. We were surrounded by tourists and blended right in with everyone else. Even in my paranoid, double-check-your-double-check mind, I couldn’t see a way Henry or his cronies could possibly have followed us. Matt didn’t even know where we were.
I hoped they hadn’t gone back to question him though. Calling him was on my list for after dinner.
Melissa and Jackson were in such bright, excited moods, I wanted to stretch out the carefree feeling of the evening as long as possible. Calling Matt would only rile suspicion and fear for Melissa. Jackson had no idea what was going on as far as the reason behind our excursion. But if Melissa panicked, he’d no doubt pick up on her anxiety and start asking more questions.
“Mmm. What is that smell?” Melissa said, breathing deeply as we wandered through the tourist town. “I say we follow our noses to whatever the source is!”
I laughed. “Far enough. Come on, buddy. We have to use our detective skills here.”
Jackson cheered and starting making exaggerated sniffs like he was a bloodhound. Melissa and I glanced at each other over the top of his head and smirked at one another. “This way!” he declared, taking off around a corner. My heart dropped and I raced to catch up to him, Melissa right on my heels.
Melissa stopped him and bent down to look into his confused face. “Sweetheart, we have to all stay together, okay? I know you’re excited, but it’s very, very important that you stay with Chase and me, okay?”
Jackson looked up at me and I nodded, backing up what his mother had said. “It’ll be more fun together anyways, okay, bud?”
“Okay.” He grabbed Melissa’s hand and then waited, extending one for me to take as well. A lump formed in my throat as I took his small hand in mine and we all three started off down the walkway again.
All together. Just like a family.
Damn, this kid is turning me into mush.
* * * *
“I think if I eat one more bite, I’ll burst,” Melissa declared, drawing a smile from both Jackson and me.
“That would be messy, Mom!”
I laughed and nodded. “Sounds like you need a walk on the beach.”
Melissa closed her eyes and leaned back against the wooden chair. We were seated on the patio, overlooking the water, with twinkling lights hanging from the pergola above us. The food, the soft music, and the staff had made for one hell of a meal. Being with Melissa and Jackson had made it perfect.
Jackson downed the rest of his bottle of root beer—a treat Melissa had given him after he’d seen a girl across the patio with one. “Let’s go!”
Melissa smiled at her son and then pulled some twenty’s out of her pocket. There was no way I’d let her pay for anything.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked her, infusing some sternness to my tone as I eyed her across the table.
She smiled down into her lap as she threw the bills on the table. “Paying for dinner.”
“I don’t think so. My treat.”
Melissa looked up, eyebrow raised. “Don’t make it a thing, okay? I’ll leave a tip.” She picked up the money and laid a twenty back down on the table, stuffing the rest of it back in her pocket.
“I’m not,” I retorted, chuckling. “I’m paying. End of story. No thing but a chicken wing.”
Jackson cracked up and I joined in his easy laughter. “You like that one?” I asked him.
He nodded. “Chicken wing!”
He lost it all over again.
Melissa smiled at me and shook her head in quiet disbelief at the scene before her eyes. After our late night talk the other night, I’d come to understand the deeper layers and I knew it was probably harder on her than she’d let on. Whenever we were around Jackson, she was always calm and confident. But after everything she told me, I knew there were deep undercurrents raging at all times under the surface. How she managed to keep it all together a
nd go on smiling for the sake of her son was a mystery to me. I would’ve lost it by now.
“Come on,” I said to her, dropping a meaningful glance at the bill lying on the table. “It’s a tax deduction. You wouldn’t want to take that from me, would you?”
She rolled her eyes and finally conceded. “Fine! You win!”
“I do like winning,” I said, eying her. What am I doing?
I broke away and flagged down the waitress and asked for the check. While we waited, Melissa wiped Jackson’s fingers and cleaned his face. The night was balmy, with a light sea breeze providing relief from the warm air. It was a scene from a postcard. The beach, the rush of the ocean, the quiet chatter of the guests at the tables beside ours. I had to fight to stay vigilant and not let myself get lost in the wonder and peace of it all.
I paid the check and we all stood and went toward the small set of stairs off the patio to go down to the beach. Night had fallen while we were eating, but the lights from the beachside restaurants and shops lit the sand and the moonlight bounced off the ocean, giving everything a magical glow.
We walked down the beach a little way in silence, before Jackson finally spoke, “Mama, is Dad coming to meet us here?”
I stiffened at the innocent question and shot a sidelong glance at Melissa. To my knowledge, it was the first time he’d asked about his dad, which, Melissa had explained was due to the fact that Henry was gone a lot and that Jackson had gotten used to him being away.
Melissa reached for Jackson’s hand and stopped to lower herself down in front of him. She cupped his chin with the tips of her fingers. I shifted my weight back and forth, debating if I should stay or give them some distance for the sake of privacy.
“Baby, your Dad isn’t coming to meet us. It might be awhile before you get to see him again,” Melissa started, her voice calm and even.
She was something else. Jackson was a very lucky little boy.
“How come?” Jackson asked, squinting up at his mother as he struggled to understand her statement.
“He’s busy with work,” she replied, even and sure.
“Oh.” His gaze dropped to the sand. “He’s always at work.”
“I know, baby. But we’re having a good time, right?”
“Mmhmm.”
Melissa sighed as she stood back up. “Come on, Jackson, let’s go see if there are any seashells left over from the day?”
I hung back as the two of them went to the surf and looked for shells under the soft glow of the moon. Jackson’s questions lingered on my mind, making my heart heavy and dull. How was she going to tell him that he might never see his father again? If Matt’s PI, or the FBI could pin Henry with Talia’s murder, then he’d be going away for a long time. Somehow, I doubted that Melissa would want to take Jackson to visit him. Not that I blamed her.
Melissa appeared to be ready to move on with her life. She had years of waiting and planning, dreaming of a new and better life. But for Jackson, the transition wouldn’t be easy. Especially when he’d been ripped away from his normal life and familiar routine. How was he going to settle back into a different life when nothing about their future was guaranteed? I’d stay with them and protect them for as long as they needed me to, but at some point, I’d have to leave them in a safe place and hope everything turned out okay.
Looking ahead, I didn’t know how I’d ever be able to do that.
How could I just walk away?
Chapter Ten
Melissa
After finding a few abandoned seashells, Jackson forgot all about Henry, and returned to his sweet, energetic self by the time we walked back to the boat later that night. The last mile was a struggle for him and Chase put him up on his shoulders for the rest of the walk. Jackson sagged lower and lower until he fell sleep, folded over Chase, his arms tucked under his face against the top of Chase’s head.
“I’m sorry…” I said, suppressing a giggle at the two of them.
“As long as he doesn’t drool, we’re cool,” Chase replied, grinning over at me.
“I promise nothing.” I laughed softly and led the way up the ramp to the boat, surprised how familiar the vessel had become over the past few days. It was the polar opposite of the sprawling compound I’d lived in for the past five years, but somehow—even without all the bells and whistles—it was more homey.
Then again, maybe it’s more about whom I’m sharing it with, I thought to myself as Chase shifted Jackson around into his arms so he could carry him downstairs without smacking the boy’s head on the ceiling. I followed after them and watched Chase lower Jackson down into the bed.
“Thank you,” I whispered, not that I needed to. Jackson was dead to the world.
Chase nodded and we did an awkward shuffle around each other in the small room. Chase set his hands on my arms and spun me around with a quick maneuver and we both chuckled at the close quarters. His fingers lingered on the bare skin along my arms, raising goosebumps despite the warm night. In the dark room, all I could see was the shadows of his face and the glint in his eyes from the faint trace of light shining through the small window. The way he looked at me had my heart launching into a complete frenzy.
“Chase I—” I started, at the same time he said, “I’ll be upstairs.”
We laughed again. “Sorry,” I said first. “I’ll get him tucked in.”
“Right.” Chase rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost…awkward. Which was strange since he was normally so confident and sure of himself, like every move was more natural to him than breathing.
Before I could think of something else to say—something to get him to hang around—he ducked out of the room, closing the door behind him as he exited. I blew out a frustrated sigh and sat down onto the bed, beside my sleeping son. I pushed Jackson’s hair out of his face and marveled at how easily he’d slipped into such a soundless sleep. I was glad. I hadn’t been able to sleep since the night I overheard Henry making plans over the phone to have me taken care of and even though I trusted Chase to protect us—it was hard to fully surrender myself. As a consequence, I only got two or three hour snippets of sleep. On a good night.
No wonder Chase wasn’t interested in more…I probably looked like the grim reaper’s offbeat cousin.
I removed Jackson’s shoes and jeans to let him sleep more comfortably and then pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Night, night, my love.”
I slipped from the room and went to the bathroom before going upstairs to join Chase. I flicked on the lights and gawked at myself in the mirror. I hadn’t put much makeup on since I’d only packed the basics. As someone who was used to a full face at all times, it was startling to see myself so bare. My skin was also darker, thanks to all of the time in the sun. Under the harsh fluorescent it was quite a mess to see how imperfectly it matched the thin layer of foundation I’d smoothed on hours and hours before.
So, less grim reaper, and more oompa-loompa. Perfect.
Fed up with it all, I turned on the tap and washed away every last trace of makeup. It wasn’t worth the fight. My hair was decent, all things considered, but I smoothed back the flyaways with a spritz of hair spray. And then added a dab of perfume to each wrist before exiting.
Over the past few days, Chase and I had slipped into a comfortable nightly routine. I’d put Jackson to bed and then go back up and we’d have a bottle of wine and talk about life. I didn’t regret sharing—possibly over-sharing—about my life and marriage. It felt good to have it off my chest. I’d never told anyone the bare bones truth before and the result had been better than I expected. Chase wasn’t the type to judge, at least not as far as I could tell, and while he didn’t have much to offer in the way of feedback, he listened and at the time, that’s all I needed. The following night, we talked about his life in the military. He was more closed off than I’d expected, but he answered all of my questions about the SEALs and what he’d done while with them.
He left me with the sense that there was a lot more than he was giv
ing me, upfront, but I wasn’t in a hurry. I’d rather get to the place where he trusted me enough to show me on his own accord.
“What’s this?” I asked, finding him in his normal chair but with two margarita glasses on the table in place of a bottle of wine.
“Thought we’d mix it up. Ya know, viva Mexico!”
I laughed. “I’m not gonna argue with you.”
“I didn’t think so,” he said, grinning as I sat down and reached for my glass. “They’re on the rocks. I didn’t figure Jackson would appreciate the blender kicking into high gear while he was trying to sleep.”
“This place has a blender?” I wrinkled my nose.
“I assumed?”
I laughed harder at the puzzled look on his face, as though a boat without a blender was inconceivable. “I haven’t seen one and I think I’ve rummaged just about every cupboard.”
Chase laughed softly and nodded. “Well, then it’s a good thing I didn’t try. Thank you, by the way, for all of the cooking.”
I blushed and looked down into my margarita glass, breathing in the salt and tequila. “It’s no problem.”
“Trust me, it’s amazing. You should open your own place one of these days.”
“Ha! No thank you…” I shook my head.
“Why not?” Chase asked, arching a brow at me. He took a sip of his drink while he waited for my answer.
“I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem like it would be something I’d be good at. I have a tendency to only do things if I can do them well. And owning a restaurant…I don’t know. I can’t picture it.”