Page 33 of A Family Affair: The Ring
Had she been showing himhedidn’t affecther?
Was she pulling a reversal on him?Maybe she devoured dark chocolate-covered strawberriesandchocolate chip cookies,andmaybe she dated guys who looked like him.
He didnotwant to do this, but there was only one way to find answers that could lead to a way out of the self-imposed hell he’d lived in for the past eight years.
He wanted a normal life.He did not want to analyze and obsess and pretend and live in his own torment for the next forty years.It had to stop, and Melanie was the only one who could stop it.They might wish they were in different states or different universes, but the truth had plagued him since the chocolate chip cookie episode.If they were going to have a chance to move on, they had to talk about the past.She’d tried to tell him that and he’d refused, but she’d been right.
And he was ready to admit it.
Will pulled into her driveway, hopped out and headed toward the front door, rang the bell and waited.No answer, but Genevieve was in the driveway, so chances were Melanie was somewhere inside.He called her cell, thought he heard the ring, but the call went to voicemail.He tried the door, surprised to find it open and stepped inside.The sobbing hit him first, followed by the gasps coming from the kitchen area.“Melanie?”Will tried to keep the panic from his voice, failed.“Where are you?”
The crying stopped, followed by a pounding and a hysterical “Will!Will!Help!”
He ran into the kitchen, spotted the half-demolished section of basement door, and Melanie’s hand sticking through it, blood smeared on what looked like a shirt.“I’m here.”He touched her fingers, said in a gentle voice, “I’ll get you out.”
“Help me.Please, Will.”A sniff and another sob.“I don’t want to be stuck like this all night.I tried to get out and I can’t...”
“I know.I know.”He homed in on the blood smearing her hand.“Give me a minute to figure out the best way to attack this.”There’d never been a time when he wished he possessed handyman skills like his old man, until now.
“All I could find was a hammer, so I started pounding at the door, but it splintered.And then I thought if I could just reach the knob.”A sob and a pathetic “But I couldn’t.”
“I’m going to open the door and then we’ll figure out what to do.”
“Okay.”
Will unlocked the door, blew out a long breath.“I’m going to open it now.Just an inch at a time.”
“I’m ready.”Another sniff and then “An inch at a time… I can do this.”
He grabbed the knob, eased the old door open.Melanie met his gaze, her eyes bright, face pale and tear-streaked, nose red and swollen.He forced a smile, held it in place so she would not see how much finding her like this bothered him.“I think we might have to cut a section of the door to get you out.And we’ll have to take a trip to the emergency room so they can disengage you from the rest of the door with minimal damage.”He’d realized an emergency room visit would be involved the second he spotted her hand poking through the door, smeared in blood.
“But how are you going to get me out of here?”
How, indeed?“Cash is out of town, so I’ll call Nate.”
“Nate Desantro?”
“Yes, Nate.”The man might be busy, but he’d never turn away a person in need of help.And they needed his help right now because Will had no idea how to cut a hole in this door and Melanie was bleeding and afraid and her color didn’t look good.His gaze shifted to her pink bra, and he blinked.He’d been so afraid for her that his brain hadn’t registered she wasn’t wearing a shirt.How had he—
“If you’re going to call Nate, can you find me a shirt or something to cover up?”
A nod, a clearing of his throat as heat swirled to his cheeks.“Of course.I think we’ll need something that goes over your head and buttons on the side...”He studied her hand and arm, determined not to look at the swell of flesh peeking from the lacy bra.
“Why don’t you see if you can find an old T-shirt and we can cut it up?”
Her breathing had evened, and she hadn’t sniffed or spilled tears since he opened the door.His ridiculous heart thumped faster, pleased that he might be the cause.His brain called him foolish.Melanie would act this way for anyone on the other side of the door.“Let’s get you a chair to sit down, then I’ll call Nate and find a T-shirt.”His gaze slid to her bare feet, inched back to her tear-stained face.“Once we do all of that, we’ll clean you up.”
“Thank you, Will.Thank you so much for your help.”
“Sure.”He carried a chair from the kitchen table, positioned it so she could sit.“I’ll be right back.”He darted up the stairs, located her bedroom—the one with the unmade bed and pile of clothes on the floor.Melanie had never quite understood the use of a closet, a drawer or a shelf.He snagged a T-shirt from the floor, inspected it for stains, brought it to his nose and sniffed.Pure citrus, tangy and sweet.A tank top rested on a chair and he grabbed it, flung it over his arm.Will was three steps from the door when he spotted the red bra and panties at the foot of the bed.He’d always loved her in red...
He cursed under his breath, pulled out his phone and called Nate.If the man found it strange that Will was the one calling for help with his ex-fiancée, he didn’t show it.Nate was a straight-up poker player who didn’t believe in gossip or asking someone to do something he wouldn’t do himself.Will bounded down the steps as though he and the woman who needed his help were not at odds, were not ex-anything.“What do you think of one of these?”He held up the pink T-shirt and the black tank top.“The tank top will be easier to put on and I could cut it at the shoulder and then tie it.”
“That’s one of my favorite tank tops.”
He eyed her, spotted the tiny smile.Good.She’d relaxed enough to joke.A promising sign.“Sorry.I think it’s the best solution considering you’re probably going to walk into the ER with a piece of door hanging on your arm.”
“Talk about arm candy.”
