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“What are you two talking about? Frank’s food is getting cold.”
“I told you not to call me Frank.”
“And I told you that’s your name.”
She pushes me into a chair and sets the container in front of me. When I pop open the lid, steam rises from the dish, and the smell of slow-cooked beef fills my lungs.
“Guess we’re going to have to get married, Melody.”
“I didn’t make this. I just brought it from the café,” she says.
“Don’t matter. You’re still feeding me.” I notice that Vincent and Emma are watching us. Annoyed, I swipe the Go-Bag and toss it to Vincent. “Here’s everything you need. The warrant, the badge, and the cuffs. Have fun.”
“We will.”
The moment the two leave, I drag Melody onto my lap.
“Should I be here?” She squirms, rousing a different kind of hunger.
“Until I find the killer, you and me are attached at the hip.” I clamp my hand around her waist and haul her up against my chest.
“And after you find the killer, then what? We go back to our normal activity?”
“Sure. I’m not planning on keeping you locked up forever.”
She pushes my hands away and leaps out of my lap. “You know what? You can get your own damned food next time.”
She slams the door shut, and the frame is still vibrating a minute later as I stare in shock and surprise at what just happened. Was it the marriage comment? She doesn’t want to get married? Is it that she doesn’t want to be attached at the hip? I told her it was temporary. I know women these days are independent and shit so you’ve got to walk carefully and not say all the intrusive thoughts in your head like I’m going to handcuff you to my desk and piss on your leg so everyone knows you belong to me.
I’m civilized. I’ll get the ring, and the collar will just be for home, but I’m keeping those thoughts to myself until I fix this murder investigation.
CHAPTER 10
MELODY
I’m going to murder him. I can’t believe he did this. Or can I? I probably shouldn’t be shocked by it.
I recall his words about him having fantasies about tying me up before he threw himself into the Navy. Not gonna lie. That lit a fire deep inside of me that I didn't know was there. This, however, is different.
“Frank, you better open this right now.” I try to keep my tone firm. The same one I use when one of the kids is acting out at school.
“You’ll just run again.” He flips through a few papers as though it’s business as usual.
I hadn’t made it far out of the police station before Frank was all over me. Not gonna lie, I did enjoy him chasing after me. That was until he’d gone and tossed me over his shoulder and carried me back into the police station and into one of the stupid holding cells that I don’t think has ever been used.
“Can you blame me for running?” He glances my way. “You’re a big jerk!” I regret my words the second I say them when I see something flash in his eyes. It fades away quickly, though. As usual, he slips into some role he thinks he needs to be in, never showing too much of his true self, which only pisses me off more.
“If it keeps you alive, I’ll be the biggest asshole I have to be.”
“Whatever.” I walk over, dropping down on the bench. He rolls his shoulders. My indifference is getting to him. Interesting. “I don’t understand you, Biscuit. You want to keep me safe, but you never think about other ways I might be hurting.” Within a blink of an eye, he’s out of his chair and standing in front of the holding cell.
“What does that mean?”
I shrug. “You broke my heart when you left, but I got it. You needed to go do your thing. At least that’s what I thought you were doing, but now you say you left because of me. I don’t really understand, and you refuse to give me any kind of explanation. It’s frustrating.”
“Everything I do is for you, Mel.” Here we go again with the cryptic stuff.
“See, confusing.” I stand, walking over to the bars and wrapping my fingers around them. “You keep on breaking my heart.” Frank runs his hand down his face. I think I might be frustrating him more than the case.
“It wasn’t only about me getting away. You were still in high school. Had college in your sights. You’ve wanted to be a teacher for as long as I can remember. If I’d stayed, would you have gone off to college?”
“I don’t know what would have happened,” I say honestly.
“I had to let you go. Let you grow and see if I was something you’d really want or if I was just some crush.” I don’t think he is completely wrong. We both had some growing up to do.
