Page 9 of His Favorite Melody

ZEKE: Cool. Should I be concerned that she’s walking around the hotel suite topless?

ME: I swear to fuck, ZEKE!

ZEKE: Cool your jets, Ghost Rider, I’m just messing with you. Though it does look like a discarded piece of clothing has made it’s way to the greenery.

ZEKE: Did someone have a fight with the Ficus?

ME: It’s nothing you need to worry about.

ME: Will you answer my first question?

ZEKE: What’s the magic word?

ME: Motherfucker.

ZEKE: She’s fine, H. Seems a little melancholy, but we’re on the tail end of a long tour. She’s probably tired.

ME: Did you tell her I was coming back?

ZEKE: Yeah.

ZEKE: So what is taking so long?

ME: The police needed access to Melody’s accounts to track that asshole’s behavior. Turns out he had three separate accounts he was using.

ZEKE: Dude, I’m too lazy to be a stalker.

ME: They were already investigating him for some sexual assaults in the area.

ZEKE: Rotten to the core.

ME: Right.

ZEKE: When will you be done?

ME: Soon. Don’t let her leave the hotel room.

chapter

seven

Melody

It’s nearly three in the afternoon before Hayes comes back to our hotel suite. He looks pretty haggard and while I’m still hurt that he couldn’t just tell me he’d changed his mind about us, I’m immediately concerned.

“You look like hell. Are you okay?”

His eyes dart to Zeke, sitting on the couch cushion where Hayes normally sits.

Hayes points at him. “You! Out!”

Zeke chuckles and shakes his head. “Thanks for lunch and introducing me to that show,” he says to me. Then he walks out of his way to avoid getting close to Hayes. “Grumpy fucker,” he mutters as he walks out the door.

My beleaguered body guard comes over to the sofa and drops down beside me. “It was a long night.”

I eye him suspiciously. He’s still wearing what he had on last night when he left me.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks.