Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Melody wasn’t sure where she got the bravery now. Was it the fact that she’d taken a sword to her comfort zone and slashed it to ribbons by participating in the live stream? Was it . . . the spike of confidence she’d taken for herself on the plane by embodying a seductress? She wasn’t sure. She only knew that her voice worked fine when she said, “You’ve shown me that I can only depend on myself. I taught myself how to be okay. Being okay is goals. But I don’t think being okay means avoiding anyone who might test your version of okay. Sometimes the okay boundary changes. You have to fucking step into it. You have to find your okay again. And again and again. Until we die. Welcome to being human.”
“Wait, I thought I was the lyricist.”
A laugh puffed out of Melody. A rewarding one.
Trina half smiled, sadness dancing fleetingly through her eyes. “I’m sorry, Melody Anne. I’m done being everyone’s bad girl.” She looked around. “If I want to be bad now, it’s on my terms, you know? The crowd sang along with me for years, worshipping me with their very souls. We abandoned ourselves to the universe together. And then they turned on me. They reached in and made mulch of my guts. And she led the mob. My best goddamn friend.”
Heat pressed against the backs of Melody’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d been keeping all this locked inside.”
“It’s easier to let everyone think nothing touches me.”
Melody wanted to let her get away with that. She really did. Her mother’s explanation was genuine. Every word. And Melody didn’t want to penalize Trina for being open with her when it was so rare. But she felt stronger today than she had in the past and didn’t want to lose that. Didn’t want to have regrets later. “I get that it’s easier to let people believe you’re untouchable, but I’m not everyone, Mom. I’m your daughter.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I only make you put up with me once a year, huh?” Trina laughed, pacing barefoot to the other side of the cell, signaling an end to their heart-to-heart. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
If the jail cell floor wasn’t stained with God knew what, Melody might have lain down on it, knees to her chest. But if those splotches had managed to stain concrete, they had to be something serious, so she remained standing. Swaying a little in the wake of her mother’s hurtful statement. Trina thought she was doing Melody a favor by being absent? How was she supposed to respond to that?
Thankfully, she never had to find out.
Beat’s voice cut through the stale air like a violin string through cake. “I’ve spoken to the bondsman—he allowed me to do a wire transfer. You should have an email from him. Melody no longer has to go before a judge, because charges have not been pressed. I spoke to psychotic Santa myself.” His tone invited zero nonsense. “Let her out, immediately.”
“You mean them, Beat,” Melody called into the hallway. “Let them out.”
“Mel,” he shouted back, “are you okay?”
At this rate, she was going to turn to a fine mist of relief and drift out through the metal bars. “I’m completely fine.”
Physically.
“She better be fine,” Beat informed Melvin as they came into view.
Oh . . . my.
Her blood thickened to hot syrup at the way Beat strode toward the jail cell, hair in disarray, the sleeves of his dress shirt shoved hastily to his elbows, those forearms in a full-on irritable flex, along with his jawline. He was in shambles, and yet he looked completely in command of the situation. Melody seriously hoped her weak-kneed, total body reaction to Beat’s arrival wasn’t showing on her face. One small mercy was that the camera wasn’t there, likely forced to wait outside.
Melvin unlocked the jail cell door and Beat pulled her out by the wrist, stooping down slightly to wrap her in his arms, then lifting her clear off the floor.
“I got you out as quickly as I could.” His voice was gruff paradise in her neck. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
He settled Melody onto her feet, but kept her close, that line of concern remaining deep in between his brows. “Let me see your wrists.”
“Why?” she asked, confused but presenting them anyway.
Beat took her hands, holding them up to the light, turning them right and left. “If those cuffs left a mark on you, I’m going to fucking lose it.”
“They didn’t.”
Melvin patted Beat on the shoulder. “Relax, man, she’s been in the hands of a Melody-head. She’s been treated like family!”
“Would someone mind letting me out of jail, too?” Trina shrieked.
“Guys, my mom!” Melody wiggled out of Beat’s hold and reached for Trina’s hand through the open door, pulling her out into the open. “Sorry.”