Melody breathed a sigh of relief, knowing this would buy her a little time. She wouldn’t have to go into a new town jobless, broke, and living out of her truck like she had been when she got to Garnet. “Thank you.”
She turned and went back inside, quickly writing down her home number and the number to Hal’s Diner. Melody sat down on the bed after he left, feeling dazed and disoriented from the pain in her chest.
To distract herself, she looked at the papers, discovering she owned a vacation home in South Carolina she never knew about. It should have been shocking, but it wasn’t. Justin had ruined her credit years ago. He liked to live above his means. Fancy cars, fancy clothes, and apparently a vacation home in South Carolina that was likely used during supposed business trips.
The paperwork said he’d bought it four years ago when they were still married. She supposed someone believed she was on board with the purchase, but they didn’t know Justin had a collection of false power-of-attorney forms that gave him the authority to do whatever the hell he wanted with her life and her credit. The notaries had just believed his bullshit and signed away her life for a wink and a smile. Justin was a smooth talker and one of those handsome, charming men no one would believe was capable of wrong.
Melody gazed at the papers on the bed, her bottom lip quivering as she thought about the friends she’d made in Garnet and the little cottage she was starting to make a home. She thought about Clay and how perfect and beautiful life felt when they were together. She knew she could never, ever tell him about this because if Justin showed up, Clay would either end up dead or in prison.
Justin was too fixated on owning her.
Clay was too determined to keep her safe.
A fight between them would end with one of them dead, and Melody couldn’t bear to think about either scenario. Not because she was particularly fussed over Justin dying; she just didn’t want to see Clay’s life ruined because of it.
She loved Clay too much to let him get involved in her mess.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands when the first sob burst out of her. She loved Clay, but she couldn’t keep him. To protect both of them she was going to have to disappear in a few weeks with nothing but her memories and her broken heart. She could only hope Clay wouldn’t hurt as badly as she was. It felt like someone had thrust a knife into the center of her chest and twisted the blade.
She’d experienced a lot of pain in her thirty-two years. She’d mourned the loss of freedom, passion, and innocence, but not once had she been forced into the horrible position of dropping true love like a hot coal at the very moment she realized it was real and pure.
The loss of it felt like more than she could endure.
Melody had thought it many times before, but this time she knew for sure: life was officially unfair.
* * * *
“You smell real pretty.”
Clay jammed his elbow back into the center of Wyatt’s chest, deliberately using extra strength to prove his point. “Get the fuck off me.”
Wyatt wheezed and laughed as he rolled off Clay to lay sprawled out on the mat next to him. Big, broad, and powerfully built, Wyatt’s bare chest glistened with sweat as he clutched at it and fought to find his breath. “For getting laid last night…you’re sure ornery today.”
Clay rolled onto his back and lied. “I didn’t get laid last night.”
“Right.” Wyatt snorted. “You never came home, and you show up today smelling like flowers and strawberries.”
“It’s cucumber melon,” Clay corrected, feeling his cheeks heat. “It’s unisex.”
Wyatt howled, his hand still splayed over his muscular chest as he rolled on his side and laughed at Clay’s expense.
“Ya keep snickering and I’m gonna forget Tony put a stop to cage sparring with you,” Clay warned him with a dark scowl. “You wanna spend the day in Mercy General, Sheriff?”
“Bring it on,” Wyatt said, his smile still wide and teasing. “I can take you, Powerhouse. I got money riding on this fight. I was throwing the cage fights to keep your confidence up and your brain working regular.”
“I thought betting in Garnet was illegal.”
“Good thing I got a sheriff in my pocket.”
“Are you really betting on the fight?” Clay asked because Wyatt said it often enough he was starting to believe it.
Wyatt gave him a stony-eyed stare, his smile gone. “Maybe.”
“That’s the same look you use in poker.”
Wyatt frowned. “So?”