Page 39 of On The Edge
“Ugh!” She actually stomps her foot, and I smirk at the cute little temper-tantrum.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She throws her arms up, and there’s a sad look behind the fight in her eyes. “Why couldn’t you just let me go? I’m not the weak little girl you left behind. No matter how hard Reis—or any of you—try to make my life hell, it won’t affect me. I’m sharper, stronger, more jaded. What could you possibly want from me?”
Why is she sad? Does she really despise usthatmuch? And what the fuck does she mean, she’s not what we want? She’s arguably the only thing we’ve all ever wanted.
I’m saved from answering by the ding of the elevator doors opening at the ground level.
Melody breaks eye contact with me as soon as the door opens and runs. Well, as much as she can in shoes so big they send hercloppingon the marble floor. She quickly, so damn quickly, pushes out the front door and into the bustling city of New York. One moment and I could lose her to the sea of people.
Early mornings in the city are amazing. The energy is addictive as people hustle and bustle to their next stop with no care in the world. People are as crazy as I am here, and it doesn’t matter what I do—or used to do, back when I could be anonymous—they’ve seen crazier.
“What’s the plan here, Mel?” I call, rushing forward to catch up with her. She’s at least a foot shorter than me so it would be way too easy for her to disappear.
My chest tightens at the thought.No, she’s not getting away. We’ve already kidnapped her. Now, I’m going to keep her.
By any means necessary.
Pulling the ball cap from my back pocket, I cover my hair and pull it down to obscure my face as much as I can. We try to hide our faces from the public as much as possible, but that doesn’t mean we are able to hide completely. Paparazzi follow us everywhere we go.
In the beginning it was so freaking exciting that people cared enough about us, and our band, to follow us around and take pictures. Now it feels like I can’t take a breath of fresh air without someone staring at me and gossiping.
I try to stealthily look over my shoulder to make sure there aren’t any cameras pointed at us. Not for my sake, but because it won’t sit well with me if people have pictures of Melody and start to talk.
She’sours,and I’m not willing to share her with the world yet.
Not seeing any obvious lurkers, I put my hand on her back and pull her roughly against my side, my arm possessive at her waist.
“There is no plan, Kai. Other than trying to get back to Oklahoma, and back to my life,” she grumbles, but doesn’t try to pull away from me. That’s a decent sign at the very least.
“Tell me more about this life of yours,” I say with a grin, whispering in her ear so she can hear me over the chatter of others walking around us.
“Oh stop, you don’t actually want to know.” She rolls her eyes, trying to brush me off. But I know better.
My arm moves from her waist to her neck, and I pull her tighter to my body, curling her shoulders so we’re facing each other more as we walk.
“Oh, but darlin’,” I drawl, letting my Oklahoma accent slip out obnoxiously, “I really, really do. First, let’s sit down and grab a coffee. You woke me up way too fucking early, and I need some caffeine in my system so I can give you my full and prompt attention.”
Melody looks at me out of the corner of her eye, and a real, true smile grows on her face. It’s directed at me for the first time since she kissed me this morning, and a little bit of the darkness in my heart fades away.
Melodyand I walk huddled together to a small diner just down the street from our penthouse. I like how, when we decided to look for a penthouse, we found a modern skyscraper surrounded by hole-in-the-wall restaurants and normal life.
Walking into our favorite corner bodega, I’m hoping the enticing smell of fried food and coffee will make her happier to be here with us. Trapper’s, the corner store with a little eatery in the back, has been a staple in our lives and diet since we moved here. I worked for Helen when we first arrived—we all did. I worked behind the counter, Reis was a cook, Markus and Adam did inventory. She took us in when we needed someone, and she’s been looking after us ever since.
Helen looks up from behind the tall counter when the bell rings overhead and calls my name in her thick New Yorker accent before giving me a nana-hug. You know the kind of hug that you can feel their love and affection through their warmth and embrace? She always gives us these kinds of hugs and I love it.
“Helen!” I pull back, giving her a kiss on the forehead. She’s a small woman, definitely a few inches shorter than Melody, but she’s strong, and unbelievably kind. Especially for a through-and-through New Yorker. Our pseudo-grandma.
“Helen,” I say proudly, holding a hand out to Melody. “This is Melody.OurMelody.”
“This is Melody?” Helen repeats in the form of a question. “You are just as beautiful as they said, honey!” She smiles, the crinkles around her eyes deepening with her happiness as she reaches out to shake Mel’s hand.
“They’ve talked about me?” Melody asks, her eyes wide with surprise, as she takes Helen’s hand and shakes it.
“They used to talk about how ‘Melody would love this,’ or ‘Melody would absolutely devour this cake,’ or how ‘no one would ever compare to their girl back home,’ or–”
I cut her off, my cheeks must be as red as a lobster based on how hot they feel. “That’s enough, Helen.” I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.
