Melissa's pov.
I didn't stay in one hotel for too long. I was running away from something, someone whom I didn't know, but I knew he would stop at nothing to hurt me.
Sometimes, while staring at the ceiling of the luxurious suites I stayed in, I wondered if it would be better to turn myself to the cops. Tell them I planned to murder my father by overdose but he ended up in a coma.
If I did, I'd be on death row, and I love life too much. I loved MY life too much. I stretched my hands up in the air, laying back down on the bed; my nail polish was getting old and worn out; between being blackmailed and trying to figure out how I was going to save myself, there was no chance for a manicure.
I no longer slept well at night, resulting in ugly bags under my eyes. I was stuck in Seattle fo
