Page 118 of Devil's Dilemma

Rufus copies the gesture back. “Tell me how you found him.”

Mel takes over the story. “If my friend from work, Beth, hadn’t seen him and taken his photo, we might never have known. But she went to Vegas for the weekend and stumbled across him. Pyro and I, along with other members of his club went to see if we could track him down, and we did. That’s when we found out he was nothing I’d believed him to be, and then I lost…” She starts crying.

I get out of my chair, pull her up and hold her tightly.

“That’s all for tonight,” I tell her dad, gruffly, then, even if it is rude, I lead her out of the room without saying anything else to him.

“I don’t give a fuck,” I start, as I take her into the room she’s been allocated, “if your parents want to keep us apart. I’m not leaving you. This evening’s been fuckin’ hard on you.”

“And on you too, Pyro. But we do have to dig it all up. If I’m taking him on, my dad’s interrogation will be nothing in comparison to a defence lawyer.”

That she’s right doesn’t mean I have to like it.

“You didn’t want whisky. Is that in case?”

She gives a tiny nod. “If we’re not going to do anything to prevent it, I want to do this right. From the very start.”

“You did nothing wrong before,” I tell her, willing her to believe it, not wanting her to carry around any guilt. “If the stress contributed to or brought on the miscarriage, then that’s all on Skull, nothing on you.”

“But my reaction…”

“Was the same as any normal person’s, Mel.”

“I just want to be careful, you know?”

I do. I help her undress. Then, in deference to being in her parents’ home and not in my assigned room, I leave on my jeans and, like I have so many times before, do nothing more than lie on the bed and wrap her in my arms.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Melissa

“Sleep well?”

As Mom gives a pointed look to Pyro he replies without missing a beat. “Like a f… baby.”

I hold my breath wondering if she’s going to say anything, reminding myself I’m in my thirties and shouldn’t be scared of my mom knowing what I get up to with my man.

But when she winks at me before turning back to getting breakfast going, I know we probably did exactly what she expected and ended up sharing the same bed.

Biting back my desire to defend myself and tell her we didn’t get up to anything, I ask instead, “Where’s Dad?”

“In his office. He’s been there since early this morning. He wants to see you both when you’re fed.”

Well, that’s the reason we’ve come here. We eat, then waste no time going to the room where Dad’s holed up. There are papers all over the desk which last night was tidy.

“Ah, come in, sit,” he says distractedly after only a brief glance up. “I’ve been doing some research. This is where I’ve got with my thinking.” He removes his glasses, polishes them, then replaces them on his nose. “First, Skull was at the MC as an undercover cop, more likely a federal agent, placed there to unearth criminal activity. By drawing Mel into it, by making her part of the club, he was knowingly involving her in any illegal activity that may have been committed.”

“But there was nothing…”

“Pyro, it’s not what he found, but what he expected to, or could have, found.” Dad gives him a hard stare which makes him shut up.

“Now, he offered an inducement to Melissa.”

“What inducement?” It’s my turn to interrupt.

“The inducement of having a relationship which you were led to believe was serious and long-term. Would you have gone with him otherwise?”

“No,” I say, indignantly. “I wasn’t, and have never been, someone who’d want a fling. Any relationship would need to have at least the potential of being permanent.”

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