Page 258 of The Last Good Man

He laughs, and I chuckle too.

“You’ll have your ring and everything else you want.”

He sets his glass down, rubs a small patch of skin on my cheek, and kisses my lips before looking at me one last time and pulling away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says again, havinga hard timebreaking away from me.

“Yes.”

A second later, he winks at me and tells me to lock the door, and I promise I’ll do that before he vanishesout the door.

MELODY

The momentthe door closes behind him, I fall back onto the couch. My head is tilted back, my hands covering my eyes, a long sigh leaving my chest.

Breathe.

I just need to breathe.

Too many things have happened these past few weeks, and while all these changes are thrilling, the stress is a bit too much.

But my mind goes back to the lovely afternoon we spent at his mother’s place and the night we spent alone at the hotel.

My fingers slide off my face, a smile tugging at my lips.Things are good. He is good. And I am good with him.

Usually.

A quiet laugh rolls off my lips when I hear a knock on the door, and I straighten up at once.

Is that him? Has he forgotten something?

I look around.No.He hasn’t smoked lately. So there are no cigarettes. No lighter.

It can’t be him. He’d walk in.

No. Maybe no.

He asked me to lock the door.

Shit.

I didn’t do that.

I leap out of my seat and tiptoe to the exit, hoping to get there before the person on the other side figures out the door is unlocked.

Why would I think about something like that right now?

Is it the landlord? His wife? My neighbor?

No to all of them.

The landlord, as obnoxious as he is, doesn’t usually show up at my door without a reason. The same goes for his wife. Marlowe is not here. I don’t think so.

It must be him. Jax. Why doesn’t he come in?

I near the door, ready to lock it or open it, depending on who, if anyone, is waiting outside, when the doorknob shifts,andabadfeeling zips through me.

“Stand back,” I bark. “I’m calling the police.”

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