The Biker's Fate Chapter 502

Melody

I threw the car door open before the SUV even came to a full stop and made a mad run for my room. I heard my name being called behind me, but I ignored it, trying to shut out the noise of my brain, my heart, the world.

I made it to my room, quickly realizing I didn't have my room key. "Fuck!"

I had to keep it together long enough to get behind closed doors, lest there be another incident akin to the great Melody Morgan meltdown of 2014 splashed across every tabloid known to man. I didn't know if I had the emotional capacity for another stint in a psychiatric hospital, considering the last one nearly killed me. I shuddered at the thought of it.

"Ms. Morgan?"

I turned to the sound of the quiet voice and smiled at the elderly maid. "Hi. I seem to have lost my key."

She held her master key up. "I can help you with that."

"Bless you," I breathed out.

She unlocked my door and I pushed it open, slinking inside, and almost falling to the ground…the grief far too much to bear. Unfortunately, I wasn't alone for long.

"Melody," Train's deep and very annoyed voice growled behind me.

I shook my head, partly because I didn't want to talk to anyone, but mostly because I couldn't. I felt like my soul was being held together with chewing gum and shoelaces at this point, and one word out of my mouth might break me.

I heard him sigh, then the turning of my deadbolts echoed in the room before he was suddenly standing in front of me. "Baby."

"Don't," I whispered.

He slid his hand down my arm and linked his fingers with mine. "You cannot, and, let me be crystal fucking clear, Melody, cannot run off alone like that."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.

"You hearin' me?" he growled.

I met his eyes with a glare but didn't audibly respond.

He studied me for a few tense seconds before his eyes softened, and he cupped my neck, his thumb sliding across my jaw. "Baby, I need you to promise me you'll wait for me next time, okay?"

I closed my eyes, leaning against his hand, and nodding.

"Are you going to say more than one word?"

I shrugged.

I was livid.

And horny.

"I cannot believe you forced me to leave those poor people," I growled.

"Baby, you're practically falling over, you're so tired," he said. "You need time to grieve as well. You can't take care of everyone else and neglect you. You'll burn out."

"He died on my watch." I slapped my chest. "I should have been more diligent."

"This isn't on you."

I shook my head. "I know." I sighed, taking a deep breath. "Sorry I was so bitchy."

"You weren't."

I forced a smile. "I was, but it's sweet that you're covering for me."

I unzipped the dress I was wearing and let it fall to the floor.

"We're not doin' that, baby."

"Not doing what?"

"We are not having sex."

"What? Why not?"

"Because you just went from blank to sad to pissed to blank again and sex is your way to cope when your emotions are out of whack."

I gasped. "How the fuck would you know that?"

"Baby, I've been paying attention to the things you've been telling me."

"I never said anything about sex helping me cope."

"No, but you've told me about your past. About the abuse you suffered while doing that kid show. Marrying shithead number one right after it ended. And it seems to me, with your past, you may have some impulse control issues."

"So this is the time you choose to tell me everything that's wrong with me?" I rasped.

"Nope, you don't get to do that. Not with me."

"What?"

"You don't get to deflect. Let me be very clear here. I love you. Everything that I say to you is because I love you and I'm concerned about your wellbeing. I want you to succeed. We all do. But you can't ice me out and you can't make me your enemy just because you're angry about Puddin's death."

"I have to ice you out. I have to ice everyone out. If I don't, the pain will be too much."

"I get it. But I'm here to put you back together when you break."

"I don't need you to do that. You can go back to your room now." I dropped my head, focusing on my hands in my lap. "I'm good."

"I am not leaving you like this, honey," he countered.

"Just go, Nash."

He smirked. I only called him 'Nash' when I was irritated with him. "No."

"In case you've forgotten, I'm your boss, and I'd like you to leave," I sassed.

"You're my boss on that stage." He raised an eyebrow. "In here, we're on the same level. But nice try."

"Court—"

"Stop," he ordered, and I bit my lip with a scowl. He slid his arms back, so he was cradling my hips, tugging me forward.

I reluctantly settled my hands on his shoulders.

"Talk to me," he prodded.

"I can't."

"Okay, baby. I'm just gonna sit here with you until you can."

"There's nothing to say," I continued.

"I know."

"You seriously can go back to your room. I'm just going to shower and go to bed," I said.

"I'm not going anywhere, Melody," he repeated. "I'm crashing here tonight."

I scoffed. "Well, that's ridiculous."

"Is it?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to wiggle out from his hold. He held firm. "Train, I'm fine. I just need to rest."

"Rest will come, honey," he said. "But I'm gonna hold you while you do it."

I frowned. "You really don't have to do that. I've been alone a long time. I'm good at taking care of myself."

"Never said you weren't."

"He was doing so well. I made sure he had a sober coach with him at all times. He was making his meetings." I blew a breath out through my lips as I picked at my nail polish. "I mean, I've been around enough addicts to know that often times that's how it happens, you know? Everything's going great, then, bam, they OD. But that wasn't Puddin'. He was really doing great. He and his daughter were talking again. He was happy. He was playing his ass off…" I blinked back tears.