Chapter 16

16

I felta hand glide over my cheek right before I felt lips press against my forehead. If this was a dream it was the best one I’d ever had because I’d swear I could smell Garrett.

“Baby, wake up.”

Oh yeah, this was a great dream.

“Stay in bed.”

Lips brushed down my temple. My hand patted soft sheets until it came in contact with bare skin.

Yes, this was turning out to be a fabulous dream.

“Mellie, baby, you need to get up.”

“I want to get down.”

I heard Garrett’s chuckle and smiled.

“Wish I could take you up on that, but we need to talk.”

Wait.

What?

My eyes opened and to my horror I wasn’t dreaming.

Garrett was sitting on the edge of the bed, twisted so his bare chest was on display. Last night came rushing back—getting into bed with him, but before that seeing his clothes on my floor. That had stung, big time. It wasn’t until I saw those clothes did I remember how much I’d missed seeing them. How, no matter how many times I’d pointed out we had a clothes hamper he never used it. That didn’t mean he didn’t pick up his clothes in the morning, but every night he undressed and tossed his clothes on the floor next to the bed.

It used to drive me around the bend. Then his clothes were no longer on the floor, and I missed it like crazy.

“What time is it?”

“Early. Coffee’s brewing. Still take it full of sugar with half and half?”

I was not comprehending why he was asking me about coffee when it was “early” on a weekend morning. I didn’t get out of bed before noon on the weekends if I could help it.

“Why am I awake?”

“Because we need to talk.”

The dreaded talk.

The talk that I’d gotten out of last night.

The talk that scared me no less now than it did yesterday.

No thanks.

“There is nothing I need to talk about early on a weekend. Come back after noon.”

Garrett gave me a half-hearted grin and my scalp started to prickle.

“It’s important.”

That got my attention.

“Is Dave okay?”

“Yeah, baby, my dad’s fine. Get up, do your thing, and meet me in the kitchen.”

“Tell me now.”

“Take a minute to wake up. Brush your teeth—”

I yanked the covers up to cover my face but he wouldn’t let me.

“Go away.”

The half-hearted went out of his grin and he’d obviously already brushed his teeth because he flashed me a beautiful smile.

Damn this man.

“Up. Coffee.”

Since he’d pointed out I had dragon breath I didn’t answer him verbally. I chose one of my many glares, and if he remembered me the way I remembered him he’d know I was spearing him with a get-the-hell-away-from-me glare.

“Got it. See you in the kitchen.”

He remembered.

I was still reeling from that knowledge when he bent and gave me another kiss on my forehead. With his lips still close he whispered, “Missed waking up with your hair in my face, Mellie.”

After he delivered that blow, he got up. I watched him—or more to the point I watched his ass that had only gotten better with time—saunter out of my room.

There was no way I could have an important conversation with him half-naked.

“You need to get dressed,” I shouted.

“I am dressed.”

I rolled out of bed and caught the time on the alarm clock.

“It’s six thirty-nine,” I grumbled. “On a Sunday.”

“Yep.”

I wanted my old Garrett back, the one who liked to sleep as much as I did. The one who did not wake me up early but instead made love to me before we started our day. I paused mid-step and realized where my thoughts had gone.

This was why I needed him to stop calling me baby.

This was why he couldn’t sleep next to me.

This was exactly why I was scared to death.

It was impossible for me to stop my mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t go.

He’s not my Garrett.

I was far too old to live in some delusionary world where I believed love solved problems. I loved Garrett long enough to know it did the opposite. It hurt. And this time around when he left it was going to be the end of me.

I rushed through washing my face, took extra time brushing my teeth, and didn’t bother getting dressed. As scared as I was, I wanted this conversation done. I was still confused as to why it had to happen so early but maybe he needed to get back to help his dad.

I walked through my living room and stopped dead when I saw Garrett leaning against my counter, coffee mug aloft and getting ready to take a sip. There he was—bare chest, cut abdominal muscles, thick tree trunk legs, muscular shoulders and arms. And then there were his tattoos. I couldn’t say I had a strong feeling about tattoos one way or the other but on Garrett they were insanely hot. I wanted to trace each and every one with my tongue.

“Mellie?”

“You really need to put on clothes.”

Garrett set his coffee mug down on the counter but did not move otherwise.

“Seriously, Garrett, what do you eat nothing but raw eggs and protein powder?” Then for some ridiculous reason I lifted my hand and waved it in his direction, indicating the length of him. “It’s not fair. It’s just one of those universal travesties that men get better with age. I could work out like it was my job ten hours a day and not have a six pack. I could bench press or whatever you do to get your arms that big every day twenty times a day and not look like that. I could squat and lunge and do all the exercises and my thighs and calves still wouldn’t look as good as yours. How are you perfect?”

My gaze slowly lifted back to his after I’d shamelessly ogled all his parts to find him frowning.

“If you’d prefer I not objectify you, you should’ve worn clothes,” I weakly defended myself.

“Perfect?” he clipped.

“Yes, perfect,” I spit back to match his tone.

“Mellie, my leg’s fucked.”

I wasn’t following. Between the early hour and all his male beauty on display it was a wonder I was standing, let alone speaking actual words.

“What?”

“My fucking leg,” he hissed. “It’s jacked.”

I finally got it.

“Your scars?”

“Yes, my scars.”

My gaze dropped back to his leg. Of course I’d seen them during my initial perusal. But they didn’t make him any less perfect.

“I’m not being smart, Garrett, but what about them?”

I didn’t understand his flinch, nor did I understand when both of his hands went to the edge of the counter beside him.

“What about them?” he whispered.

“Honey, I don’t understand,” I returned just as softly. “You’re perfect. Those scars don’t make you any less so.”

“I love you, Mellie Kate.”

That was not whispered. It was growled. And I was happy he was across the room out of arm’s reach, or I would’ve tackled him.

“You need to stop saying that, Garrett.”

“No, baby, I need to tell you until you believe me.”

Believing was the problem.

Believing that somehow, some way, I could have him back was the problem.

Believing that he would crush me again was the problem.

“Garrett—”

“Come get your coffee, Melissa. I need to tell you something, then we need to get on the road.”

“Get on the road like, leave the house?”

He was crazy if he thought I was going somewhere this early.

“Come here.”

My feet took me to the kitchen. Not because he’d summoned me, but because I needed caffeine to fire up the brain cells I needed for this discussion.

I grabbed the mug he’d made for me and hated that it was exactly right. Just enough sugar with a splash of half and half.

God, everything about this sucked.

“I don’t think this part’s gonna cause damage so I’m gonna give it to you fast.” That was his weird opening. “Steve found Slater dead this morning.”

Out of all the things I thought Garrett wanted to talk about, that would’ve been last on the list.

“I’m sorry, did you say that Slater is dead?”

Garrett nodded.

“Slater Boone?”

Why I asked for further clarification, I didn’t know. I was blaming it on shock.

“You good with that?”

Was I good that my niece and nephew were now orphans? Fuck no, I was not good with that. Was I good that the man who’d mentally and physically abused my sister was dead? Again that was a fuck no. I hated the guy; I wanted his children away from him and safe but I didn’t want him dead.

“I mean, are you okay for me to tell you the rest?”

“There’s more?”

“Cash’s been with the Feds all night and he was with them this morning when the call came in about Slater. Three things you need to know. Ran held Slater’s debt because he had your sister’s life insurance policy as collateral.”

I knew Garrett delivered that as gently as he could, but the words still slammed into my chest.

“That’s why the Feds think Ran had something to do with Analise’s death,” I said, barely above a shocked whisper.

“Yeah.” Again with the soft.

Suddenly I was thinking that maybe I was okay with Slater being in hell. I don’t know what was worse, me thinking that Slater murdered my sister or that Ran did it to collect on Slater’s gambling debt. In reality it didn’t matter—my sister was gone, and nothing would change that. Justice didn’t exist when a loved one was taken. No punishment would bring them back. Learning the reason behind the act wouldn’t stop the ache I would forever feel.

Gracie and Christian had always been the concern. Getting them safe and keeping them that way.

But thinking that my beautiful sister was killed for money made me want to throw up.

“No way to cushion this next one for you, Melissa.”

Oh no. “Gracie—”

“Just listen, yeah?”

I nodded.

“Slater took out life insurance policies on the kids.”

He got no more out before I dropped my coffee and ran.

I needed to get dressed and get to my parents. I needed to pack them up and run. Kira had said that Slater was still in debt for twenty thousand dollars. Was that debt to Ran or Steve or were they working together?

Oof.

An arm wrapped around me like a steel band and hauled me backward until I collided with Garrett.

“Your parents and the kids are safe.”

Was he fucking crazy?

“Let me go!”

“Listen to me, Melissa. They’re safe. All of them. Cash and the Feds have already been to your parents’ house. They’ve been notified and Cash is with them.”

That was both good news and infuriating.

“The feds have notified them?”

Garrett’s arm wrapped tighter around me, which meant it was hard to breathe since he’d already been holding me tight.

“Yes,” he told me cautiously.

“It’s good you can still read me,” I seethed. “So you know without me telling you I am pissed. Not furious. Not en-fucking-raged you wake me up with a kiss, teasing me, then let me blather on about meaningless shit knowing my family’s in danger.”

“They’re not in danger, Melissa. They’re on the road—”

My temper spiked to an all-new high. Higher than it had ever been before. So high I didn’t know a temper could redline so high.

“On the road?”

“Yes. Which is where we’re gonna be in ten minutes, after you pack.”

Perhaps I’d overreacted.

“You’re taking me to them?”

“No, we’re gonna stay separate.”

I was staring down my hall but all I could see was red. I could feel Garrett’s heat behind me but I had ice running through my veins. And all I could feel was fear. Christian and Gracie were in danger and Garrett had taken them away from me. He’d allowed me to sleep knowing my parents needed me. He’d let me grouch about the time when he knew I’d want to be with them.

“No, Garrett. I am going with my parents. Not Cash. As a matter of fact, Cash isn’t coming with us. You’re not coming with us. This is not—”

“Melissa, love you more than anything. But I’m not listening to this shit.”

Did he seriously just say that?

“You’re not listening to me?”

“Not about this. First, because I know you’re scared and pissed and that’s never a good combination. Second, because this is what I do. I provide protection. I’m damn good at it and so is my team. When I tell you your family is safe, I mean Cash will kill and die before something happens to one of them. They are not safe with you. You cannot protect them the way Cash can.”

I fucking hated that he was right. Cash could protect them better than I could.

“Fine. I want to go with my family.”

“You’re coming with me.”

That red hazed darker and darker until I was blinded by it.

“You don’t get to make decisions for me, Garrett.”

“I already did. And the longer we stand here and fight about this the longer it’ll take for us to get on the road and I don’t want to be too far behind Cash in case he needs backup.”

Damn, he was right about that, too.

“Let me go so I can get dressed.”

I was immediately released. I twirled on him, looked him straight in the eyes, and said, “I think I finally hate you.”

Garrett’s hand shot out and hooked me around the back of the neck and pulled me closer.

“You’re a liar, Melissa. You love me now just as much as you did the day I asked you to marry me. You love me the same as I love you. I know it. You know it. And you can fight it all you want but check this, Mellie; I’m not letting you go again. I’m taking you home. And when we get there, you’re not leaving. This time, I’m not giving you a choice.”

“So you’re gonna kidnap me and hold me hostage.”

“You can call it whatever you want.”

“I’m not staying in Maryland.”

“We’ll see.”

Another crappy part of Garrett knowing me so well was that he knew I could argue all day. He also knew how to shut me up.

So I should’ve been prepared when he slammed his mouth on mine.

But I wasn’t. And I should’ve been ready with my defenses shored up nice and strong when his tongue traced the seam of my lips. But I wasn’t. I willingly opened like I always did. I also willingly participated in a kiss that was not greedy or hungry like the one we’d shared the other day. Instead, it was a slow-burn welcome home. A kiss that wasn’t meant to lead to sex but meant to say all the things that words couldn’t properly convey. And I participated in that, too.

Which meant I knew I was fighting a losing battle.

Or maybe I was fighting on the wrong side, and if I won it would lead to my greatest loss.