PHOENIX

23| SHE HAD KISSED HIM

That morning, Jackson found himself doing exactly what he had promised himself he wouldn't do again: following Melissa Roy. He had gone to sleep telling himself that today he would keep his distance, that he would focus on someone else, perhaps Matthew or even Ric if he absolutely had to, but the moment he saw Melissa leaving the hotel, every carefully laid plan crumbled without a fight. It irritated him how easily that woman could derail his intentions without even speaking to him. He hated that she occupied so much space in his thoughts, hated that every answer he found only seemed to produce ten more questions, yet he couldn't convince himself to stop. Somewhere between wanting justice for what she had done to him and desperately needing to understand the woman she had become, he had developed an obsession that was becoming increasingly difficult to justify, even to himself. Keeping several vehicles between them to avoid drawing attention, he followed the familiar black sedan as it made its way out of the city. He expected another law office, another secret meeting with Roy, or perhaps another mysterious destination that would leave him scratching his head for the rest of the day. Instead, nearly forty minutes later, the sedan turned into the parking lot of a private school on the outskirts of the city. Jackson frowned as he slowly drove past the entrance before finding a place to park farther away. A school? Of all the places he had expected Melissa to visit, this one hadn't even crossed his mind.

The moment Melissa stepped out of the car, Jackson prepared to do the same, but before he could even open his door, he caught sight of Max turning in his direction. Every instinct screamed at him to move. Without wasting a second, he ducked behind a nearby parked SUV, crouching low enough that only the top of his head risked being visible. His heart immediately began hammering against his ribs so violently that he was convinced anyone standing nearby could probably hear it. "Seriously?" he muttered under his breath, mentally cursing himself. "You've been following people for days and you're still this bad at it?" Slowly, he risked lifting his head just enough to peek over the bonnet of the vehicle. Max hadn't moved. The giant bodyguard stood beside Melissa's car with the patience of a statue, his scarred face slowly turning from one side of the parking lot to the other as his sharp eyes searched every corner.

There was something unnerving about the man. He didn't panic or rush. He simply observed, and somehow that made him even more intimidating. Jackson remained perfectly still, scarcely daring to breathe as several parents walked past him without paying him any attention whatsoever. Meanwhile, Melissa seemed blissfully unaware of what had briefly caught her bodyguard's attention. She had already adjusted the strap of her handbag and was making her way towards the school's entrance with her usual graceful stride. After another long moment of searching, Max finally appeared satisfied that whatever had caught his attention posed no immediate threat. He gave the parking lot one last sweeping glance before turning and following after Melissa. Only when both of them disappeared through the school's entrance did Jackson finally release the breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. His knees actually felt weak as he stood up. "One day," he quietly grumbled while brushing invisible dust off his trousers, "I'm going to become good at this. Today clearly isn't that day."

Rather than rushing after them and risking another close encounter with Max, Jackson forced himself to be patient. He remained beside his car for several more minutes, pretending to check messages on his phone while subtly watching the flow of people entering the school. Only once he was confident enough did he begin walking around the perimeter of the property, keeping a respectful distance from the main entrance. Tall fences surrounded most of the campus, but there were enough open areas and large classroom windows for him to catch glimpses of what was happening inside without drawing unnecessary attention to himself. It didn't take him very long to notice something that immediately explained the unusually crowded parking lot. Cars continued arriving every few minutes, dropping off adults rather than children. Fathers climbed out carrying briefcases instead of schoolbags. Mothers hurried through the gates while clutching notebooks and handbags instead of lunchboxes. Groups of parents greeted one another as if they had done this countless times before. Jackson smiled to himself as the obvious conclusion finally settled in his mind. It was a parents' meeting.

He almost laughed at how long it had taken him to figure it out. Here he had been expecting criminal conspiracies and secret meetings, only to discover Melissa attending what looked like an ordinary school function. It also answered another question that had been bothering him since he first arrived. She wasn't there for herself. She was there because of Ric.

The realisation lingered in his mind far longer than he expected it to. Everything he had learned about Melissa over the past few days seemed determined to contradict everything else. One moment she was standing beside Roy, the feared patriarch of one of the most dangerous families in the country, carrying herself with the confidence of someone born into power. Another moment she was laughing with an old farmer while happily planting vegetables beneath the afternoon sun as though luxury meant absolutely nothing to her. Then she spent hours organising charity events for strangers, visited her grandmother without fail, and now here she was attending a school meeting for her younger brother like any ordinary older sister would. Jackson rested his elbows against the fence as he watched parents filtering through the building's corridors, unable to stop himself from wondering which version of Melissa was the real one. Perhaps they all were. Perhaps that was what made her so impossible to understand. She could move effortlessly between completely different worlds without ever appearing out of place. The Melissa he had fallen in love with had always been gentle, caring and endlessly patient. The Melissa who had betrayed him had been cold enough to watch his life fall apart without flinching. The Melissa he had been secretly following over the past week somehow managed to be both women depending on where she was and who stood beside her. It was enough to make any sane man question his own judgment.

As the meeting continued inside, Jackson found his thoughts drifting away from Melissa and towards his own family. Watching so many parents gathering for something as ordinary as a school meeting unexpectedly stirred memories of Sue and Ethan. If Ethan were older, Sue would undoubtedly be the one sitting inside a classroom just like these parents, listening carefully to teachers while asking dozens of questions about homework, grades and whether Ethan was eating enough during break time. She would probably embarrass the poor kid without even meaning to. Jackson smiled faintly at the image. She had always been overprotective of Ethan, even if she expressed it through constant nagging and endless worrying. In that regard, Melissa didn't seem very different. Whatever else she might be hiding, it was becoming increasingly obvious that she genuinely cared about Ric. That wasn't something a person could fake so effortlessly. It wasn't in the way she showed up. It wasn't in the time she invested. Those were choices, and people rarely made those kinds of sacrifices unless they truly loved someone. The comparison unsettled Jackson more than he cared to admit because it chipped away at the version of Melissa he had spent years convincing himself to hate.

Roughly an hour later, the front doors finally opened again and parents began streaming back towards the parking lot in small groups, their conversations carrying across the warm morning air. Jackson casually stepped farther away from the entrance, blending into the growing crowd as though he had every reason to be there himself. A few minutes later, Melissa appeared beside Max, the two of them walking side by side while discussing something quietly. She looked relaxed, smiling politely at a teacher who waved goodbye before continuing towards the waiting sedan. Max, on the other hand, remained as vigilant as ever, his eyes constantly moving, scanning faces, parked cars and every possible hiding place without appearing obvious about it. Naturally, that only made him even more determined to keep following her. After all, every answer she gave him somehow managed to create an even bigger mystery. And, much to his own annoyance, Jackson Stanford had never been very good at walking away from mysteries. Jackson instinctively lowered his gaze and pretended to be checking something on his phone until they climbed into the vehicle.

Jackson knew the moment Max's eyes locked onto him that his luck had finally run out. He had barely wrapped his fingers around the driver's door handle when he saw the scarred bodyguard pause beside Melissa, his posture stiffening almost imperceptibly before he leaned down and murmured something into her ear. Jackson couldn't hear the words, but he didn't need to. The slight tilt of Max's head in his direction said more than enough. A second later, the massive man broke away from Melissa and started walking straight toward him with calm, measured strides that somehow felt far more threatening than if he had been running. Jackson cursed inwardly, forcing himself not to panic. Panic attracted attention, and attention was the last thing he needed. Instead of getting into his car like he had originally intended, he casually stepped away from it as though he had suddenly remembered something important. Timing his movements with the steady stream of parents and vehicles leaving the school, he blended into the crowd as naturally as he could, using passing SUVs and family sedans as moving shields while quietly changing direction. Every few seconds he risked a glance over his shoulder, only to find Max still following, never rushing, never calling out, simply closing the distance one patient step at a time. Jackson's pulse pounded louder with every heartbeat. "You've really done it this time," he muttered beneath his breath. "One of these days you're actually going to learn when to quit... apparently today isn't that day either." Spotting the restroom signs ahead, he headed toward them without hesitation. Crowded places offered cover, and right now cover was exactly what he needed. If he could disappear into the building long enough for Max to lose track of him, he might still salvage the situation.

He was only a single step away from pushing open the men's restroom door when everything changed. A hand shot out from nowhere, gripping his wrist with surprising strength before yanking him sharply sideways. Jackson instinctively tensed, every muscle preparing to fight back, but before he could even turn to see who had grabbed him, his back hit the tiled wall inside the ladies' restroom and soft lips crashed against his with startling urgency. The question forming in his mind died before it ever reached his tongue. He didn't need to ask who it was. He would have recognised those lips anywhere. He had kissed them beneath pouring rain, beneath starlit skies, in a tiny apartment that barely fit the two of them, and during stolen moments when the rest of the world seemed to disappear. No matter how many years had passed or how much betrayal lay between them, there were some things the body remembered long after the heart insisted it had forgotten. His breath caught in his throat as the familiar warmth overwhelmed him, sending a flood of memories crashing through his mind with painful clarity. For one suspended moment, every lie, every unanswered question, every ounce of anger simply ceased to exist. His hands reacted before his brain could object, instinctively settling around Melissa's waist and pulling her closer, deepening the kiss almost against his own will. It was reckless. It was foolish. It was probably the last thing either of them should have been doing. Yet neither of them seemed capable of stopping.

When the kiss finally broke, neither of them immediately stepped back. Jackson found himself staring into Melissa's eyes from only inches away, searching for answers in a gaze that seemed far too complicated to read. Her breathing was uneven, matching his own, while a mixture of desperation, fear and unwavering determination flickered behind those familiar brown eyes. Before he could ask the dozens of questions exploding inside his head, Melissa gently pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him before a single word escaped. The gesture was strangely intimate, almost painfully familiar, reminding him of countless moments from years ago when she had done the exact same thing simply because she wanted to tease him. This time, however, there was nothing playful about it. Every second mattered.

"Not here," she whispered, her voice so quiet he almost didn't hear it. Her eyes darted nervously toward the restroom door before returning to his face. "We don't have much time."

Jackson nodded almost automatically, although his mind was spinning so violently that he wasn't entirely sure what he was agreeing to. Outside, he could already hear footsteps approaching. Heavy. Steady. Purposeful. Max. Melissa heard them too. Without another wasted second, she grabbed Jackson's hand and hurried him deeper into the restroom, weaving between the empty cubicles until they reached a small window positioned high along the far wall. She pushed it open with surprising ease before turning back to him, urgency written across every inch of her face. "Go," she whispered, her voice trembling just enough for him to notice. "I'll cover for you."

For a brief second, Jackson remained rooted to the spot. Nothing about this made sense. Melissa had known he was following her for days. She had known exactly who Max was searching for. She had every reason to expose him, every reason to hand him over, every reason to let him deal with the consequences of his own foolish decisions. Instead, she had dragged him to safety, kissed him with enough desperation to steal the air from his lungs, and was now risking herself to help him escape. His mind desperately searched for an explanation, but none came. The sound of the restroom door opening abruptly shattered whatever hesitation remained. Someone had entered. Max. Melissa's eyes widened slightly as she looked back toward the entrance before returning her attention to Jackson. She didn't repeat herself. She didn't need to. Jackson quickly climbed onto the narrow ledge and squeezed through the small window, landing awkwardly on the grass outside with far less grace than he would have preferred. His shoulder protested immediately, but adrenaline barely allowed him to notice.

Before leaving, he looked back one last time. Melissa was still standing by the open window, watching him with an expression that hurt far more than the kiss itself. There was sadness there. Regret. Fear. Perhaps even relief. Then, slowly, she offered him a small smile that never quite reached her eyes before quietly pulling the window shut between them. Just like that, she disappeared from sight. Jackson remained frozen for another second, staring at his own reflection in the glass before reality finally caught up with him. He forced himself into motion, crouching low as he hurried away from the building, sticking to hedges, parked vehicles and narrow walkways until he was several blocks away. Only then did he duck into a deserted alley, pressing both hands against his knees as he struggled to steady his breathing. His heart refused to calm down. It wasn't because Max had nearly caught him. It wasn't even because he had just escaped through a restroom window like some amateur criminal. It was because Melissa had kissed him. Not a polite kiss. Not an accidental one. She had kissed him exactly the way she used to years ago, as though the world around them no longer existed.

Jackson leaned back against the brick wall and dragged a shaky hand through his hair, closing his eyes as the questions came flooding in faster than he could process them. Why had she done that? Had the kiss simply been a distraction to keep him quiet until she could get him out of danger, or had she wanted to kiss him? More importantly, why would she help him escape in the first place? She could have exposed him without lifting a finger. Instead, she had chosen to protect him. Nothing about her behaviour fit the woman he had spent years convincing himself she had become. Every answer he uncovered seemed to create an even greater mystery, and Melissa Roy was rapidly becoming the biggest one of all. After taking several slow breaths, he finally pushed himself away from the wall and started making his way back toward his car. One thing was certain now. Whatever game Melissa was playing, he was no longer convinced he understood any of the rules.

Keeping his head down and his pace steady, Jackson carefully made his way back toward the parking lot, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder every other second. He forced himself to walk instead of run, reminding himself that people who were running usually had something to hide. Every instinct urged him to hurry, but instinct wasn't always the smartest advisor. His eyes continuously swept across the rows of parked vehicles, searching for any sign of Max's imposing figure. He expected the scarred bodyguard to emerge from behind a car, step out from between the buildings, or simply appear in front of him with that unnervingly calm expression that never seemed to change. Yet the man was nowhere to be seen. Whether Melissa had successfully distracted him or Max had chosen to stop searching altogether, Jackson had no way of knowing. That uncertainty unsettled him far more than if the man had simply continued chasing him. Max didn't strike him as someone who gave up easily. Men like him didn't lose people by accident. If he had abandoned the search, there was probably a reason for it, and Jackson wasn't sure he wanted to know what that reason was. Even so, he refused to lower his guard. He checked every reflection in nearby car windows, every blind corner between vehicles, every movement in his peripheral vision before finally reaching his own car without incident. Only after climbing into the driver's seat and locking the doors did he allow himself to exhale properly. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel with enough force for his knuckles to turn pale, while his heart continued pounding against his ribs as though it still hadn't realised the immediate danger had passed. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the silence settle around him. "You really need to stop getting yourself into these situations," he muttered to himself with a weary shake of his head. "One of these days your luck is going to run out, and I have a feeling it won't send you a warning beforehand."

The drive back to the hotel passed in a blur, though Jackson barely noticed the traffic, the changing lights, or even the route he had driven dozens of times before. His hands guided the car almost automatically while his mind remained hopelessly trapped inside that tiny restroom. No matter how many times he replayed the scene, he arrived at the same impossible conclusion. Melissa had kissed him. Not because she had mistaken him for someone else. Not because she had been forced to. She had recognised him the moment she grabbed his wrist. He was certain of it now. There had been something in her eyes during those few stolen seconds that couldn't be explained away as panic or coincidence. The kiss itself had felt painfully familiar. It hadn't been awkward or hesitant. It had carried the same urgency, the same warmth and the same heartbreaking tenderness he remembered from years ago, before lies and betrayal had poisoned everything they once shared. His body had recognised her before his mind ever had, responding instinctively in a way that frustrated him almost as much as it frightened him. He had spent years convincing himself that Melissa Roy had destroyed every feeling he had ever harboured for her. Yet the moment her lips touched his, every carefully built wall had developed cracks he hadn't even known existed.

The more he thought about it, the less sense it made. If Melissa truly wanted him caught, all she had needed to do was step aside and allow Max to continue searching. She hadn't done that. Instead, she had risked being alone with him, hidden him from her own bodyguard, kissed him into silence before he could ask questions, and practically pushed him through a restroom window to help him escape. None of those actions benefited her. If anything, they placed her in an incredibly difficult position should Max discover what had happened. Unless, of course, Max already knew. Jackson frowned at the possibility before immediately dismissing it. No. If Max had known, he wouldn't have been searching so aggressively in the first place. That meant Melissa had acted entirely on her own, and that single fact complicated everything Jackson thought he understood about her. For years he had believed she had willingly betrayed him. Now, with every encounter, she seemed determined to challenge that belief without ever offering an explanation. She smiled at him like she missed him, spoke about him with sadness she didn't bother hiding, helped him escape danger when she had every reason not to, and now... she had kissed him as though part of her had forgotten they were supposed to be strangers.

Jackson let out a slow, frustrated sigh as the hotel finally came into view. The kiss refused to leave his mind. He could still remember the softness of her lips, the way her fingers had trembled slightly when they brushed against his wrist, the sadness hidden behind her eyes when she silently watched him climb through that window. None of it felt rehearsed. None of it felt like manipulation. It had felt genuine, and that was precisely what terrified him. Because if the kiss had been real, then so were the questions it left behind. Why was Melissa helping him? What was she hiding from Max? More importantly, what exactly was she protecting him from? Jackson tightened his grip on the steering wheel one last time before pulling into the hotel parking lot. He knew one thing with absolute certainty now. He couldn't walk away anymore, even if he wanted to. Whatever Melissa Roy was tangled up in had become far bigger than simple betrayal, and unless he uncovered the truth soon, he had a feeling that both of them were heading toward a disaster neither would be able to escape.