Page 69 of Captive Heart

But she kept a secret there now, and it warmed her right to her very soul. Recently, it had been filled with so many wondrous things, and those things became her armour, her refuge, her protection, her sanctuary.

Now, all those secret places within her were filled with wonder and fulfilment, pleasure and happiness and, of course, the greatest among all of them: love.

Melody crept so far inside her mind she didn't acknowledge the loud hammering on the door upstairs. In fact, she barely heard it. Neither did she pay any heed to V as he threw down the weapon with a curse, causing it to clatter against the side of the cage.

"Damn Guthrie," V muttered under his breath, although Melody only vaguely heard. "His timing stinks as usual… except where running into you was concerned." He cackled as he stomped up the stairs, "I might just let him have at you as a reward."

Melody quieted her mind in resignation and let the beauty of the past few weeks be the balm to all her hurts.

She was ready to leave this life now.

Funny how such a short space of time - just mere weeks - could change a person's perspective so completely. But she knew she could never live like this again. She had only one regret, and that was that she’d never told Micah she loved him.

He was a single shining star, a brightness within the gloom of her life, and for a little while, Melody had known what it was to love. She had known joy and rapture, and she had felt cherished.

That was enough.

She could die happy. She just wished she'd been able to tell him.

Sadly, she'd been hobbled by the notion that he wouldn't accept her feelings. That he'd tell her they were false, just a reaction built from gratitude. But in a sudden moment of clarity, Melody realised it didn't matter. That love was something freely given without expectation of it being returned.

So now she was ready to leave this mortal coil.

She could accept it; Micah had given her that, at least. By showing her the best there was in life, she knew that she could finally face death.

She was just sad that Micah would never know just how deeply he had touched her. How he’d given her the strength to finally let go, clutching that little oasis of wonder and perfection to her heart, so she could fly free in spirit, rather than be chained to a life of misery.

"I love you, Micah," she whispered out loud so she could say the words, hear them told, just once.

46

Micah pulled up on the roadside next to the ominous eight-foot-tall wooden slatted fence and knew he was in the right place. Everything about the location gelled with the place Melody had described. The real shocker was that it was barely five miles away from the club. From the details Melody had given, it was likely that a lot of the time she spent escaping this place had led her around in a wide arc.

The road was semi-rural, on the outskirts of the city, with homes set generous distances apart. Enough to ensure complete privacy. Although, if anything, the huge privacy fence probably called more attention to the property.

Still, not many people would happen into this secluded little corner accidentally, unless they were lost, and they sure as hell wouldn't approach this place if they were, so he supposed it served its purpose.

Another highly suspicious detail was the fact that the reinforced gate had a house type key lock fitted to it. Who did that?

The fence was substantial, not your usual property border, and a quick check told Micah that its wide ridge was topped with embedded glass shards to prevent anyone from climbing it. Serious overkill in leafy suburbia. It automatically made a person wonder what someone was hiding behind it.

Remembering what Melody had said about escaping through the hedge at the rear of the property, Micah searched for a way to get back there. He was rewarded only one hundred yards away by a wide, grass-covered track and sprinted up it to see what he could find.

At the end there was a gate into the field she had described, obviously used by a farmer for road access. Micah vaulted over it and scrutinised the hedgerow. He walked all the way up what he believed was the boundary line for the property in question, then down again more slowly. He could scarcely believe that Melody had escaped through this hedge. It was dense and prickly with vicious, inch long barbs and seemed completely impenetrable. For the life of him, he couldn't work out where any part of it might be less compact.

Frustration mounting all over again, Micah peered through every part of the shrubbery. Finally, with his patience wearing thin and giving serious consideration to just attempting to kick in the gate or simply drive his car through the fence - which he wanted to avoid so he didn't give himself away - he spied a section through which he could just about see a small amount of daylight. It probably would have been more obvious if it hadn't been approaching dusk.

Micah shook his head at the sheer will and effort it must have taken the barefoot, tarpaulin clad Melody to squeeze through the narrow gap, and concluded that if he could snap or force aside a couple of the thicker stems, then he might have a chance at getting through, himself.

He'd worry about finding a quicker way out once he'd been given the information he wanted about Melody. But, as far as he was concerned, the bastard was going to be providing him with the gate key.

As he wrestled with the branches, Micah was grateful the bushes were so closely spaced they hadn't reached their full potential, making them easier to snap or prise sideways. Still, never had he been more grateful for the hours he spent in the gym, working on his powerful physique, than he was today.

Thankful for the dense, hide jacket he was wearing, Micah finally crossed his forearms in front of him to protect his face and bulldozed through the remainder of the barrier until he slid down the woodpile Melody had mentioned on the other side.

As he perused the house, Micah stopped only for a second to wonder at his next move. There didn't seem to be any easy access, so in the end, he opted for the most obvious course of action and decided just to knock. Well, if you could call the fisted pounding he unleashed on the rattling framework knocking.

He was almost surprised when the sound of a bolt being thrown indicated someone was going to answer. But maybe not as surprised as the vile specimen of filth who stood on the other side.

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