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“Melanie.” He went to grab her hand, but she yanked it away.
“Don’t… touch me,” she hissed.
“Enough, Melanie!” Dedrick stepped in, boiling. “We’re leaving!”
“No! I’m not going with you! I’m staying here. With Shane.”
Atwood clenched his fists, hissing, “You clearly don’t know what you’re dealing with, Vergoossen. You want war? You’ll have one. We’ll see who gets the last laugh.” He switched his gaze to Melanie, who looked like she was breaking, and I slid my hand around her waist, pulling her tight as if she was a fragile piece of art, it's shattered pieces I was holding together, not letting her crumble. “And you, my beloved daughter, will crawl back on your knees, begging me to help you after he smashes you so hard that you won’t get your shit together ever again! Mark my words.” His hoarse voice rumbled through the walls before he turned on his heel and walked away, shutting the door behind him.
“I’ll ruin you, Vergoossen!” Ledford yelled, reminding us of his miserable existence.
“Good luck.” I smiled, and he made a hilarious sound before following Dedrick like the good dog following his master.
Melanie took a heavy breath, cupping her head with her trembling hands. She turned to look out the window, now rubbing her temples. It pained me to see her hurt. I slowly moved closer and rested my hands on her arms, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.
“I’m sorry, Melanie,” I whispered, hoping the cliché phrase would make her feel better.
“How did you know about this, Shane?” she asked, her eyes blunt, set on the clear sky.
“I had my employer look up Ledford’s family,” I stated.
She turned to face me, frowning. “Who are you, Shane?”
“You know that already.” I looked deeply into her eyes.
“I don’t think I know.” She shook her head before rubbing her temples again.
I took her hands and enclosed them in mine. “Hey,” I whispered before grabbing her chin with one of my hands, still holding hers in the other. “You’re safe with me, Melanie. I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re under my protection now.”
“Why?” she asked, her eyes full of confusion and pain.
I let out a soft sigh, wondering what I was supposed to answer. The truth was, I wasn’t sure myself. I couldn’t explain why, but I felt the need to protect her. That was when I knew I was fucked up. I was never supposed to care about her, and yet, in such a short period of time, I did. I fucking did, and that could only spell trouble. Since Melanie Rose Atwood somehow found a way into my soul that I didn’t know existed. I fought a constant battle between my inexplicable, irresistible attraction toward her and my life’s mission, my duty, the fucked-up plan,revenge.
Melanie’s eyes darted between mine. Her brows furrowed before she took a heavy breath and rubbed her face with her hands. She walked over to the table standing in the middle of the living room, grabbed the remote, and turned on the TV.
A news reporter’s deep voice filled the room. “Allegedly, Melanie Atwood was kidnapped during her engagement party to Theo Ledford. The police…”
The man kept rambling, and Melanie looked like she was about to cry. I approached her and gently took the remote out of her hand, turning the sound down. I reached for my phone from my pocket and dialed the number of the station airing the news.
“What are you doing?” She glanced at me, puzzled.
“I’m calling the station to get this straight,” I said, smiling.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to tell them the truth.”
“The truth?” A soft smile curled her lips, and a tiny spark glistened in her eyes.
“Yes. That you were not kidnapped but ran away to avoid the biggest mistake of your life.”
“But…” She hesitated, crossing her arms nervously, frowning again. “I’ll cause a scandal.”
“I don’t care. Do you?”
She shook her head, chuckling softly. “No.”
“Good.”
“Thank you, Shane,” she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears.
