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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 a while 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?
10
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 asleep, 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 homier.
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 left. I blew out a frustrated sigh and sat down on 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.
