Page 14 of The Spare

Not me.

"Hey, Mel! Good to see you, girlie!" she calls out to me, grabbing her feather duster and stepping on the rung. "Have fun on your run."

I swing my head to the side, making sure that someone's there in case she falls. Relaxing when I see Gustavo a couple doors down the hallway switching with the night shift outside of Mariah's bedroom door.

Hitting the playlist I want, I break out into a light jog, making my way to their in-home gym and then hit the treadmill hard. I do nine miles before I call it quits and then bake in the sauna for twenty minutes so I don't get cramps.

It's a luxury I'm not afforded at school so I take advantage of it when I'm here. As I sit, I think about school and what I can do to get Isobel to be okay with me going to work. The fact that I'm well into adulthood and can't even make my own decisions is a prison I'd never thought I'd find myself in, and I need a way out.

Sometimes I think I'd even kill for it.

"Is that what you're wearing?"Isobel says.

I fight like hell not to roll my eyes as hers drag judgmentally down my body.

"What's wrong with it, Izzy?" I ask in an exasperated tone, folding my arms and looking to the side.

We're standing on the concrete steps outside the front, waiting for Hendrix to wrangle Mariah in her car seat in the back of the car.

Isobel's eyes snap to mine. "Jesus. Did you miss your run this morning or something?" She rubs her swollen belly, rocking side to side.

"No. I did nine miles. Why?"

"Because you're acting like you found out someone shit in your cheerios this morning," she says, gingerly making her way down the steps as Hendrix motions for us to come on.

I take a deep breath and follow her, putting my hand on her elbow. "I'm just bored, Izzy. I want to talk about me getting a job."

"Melody, you know you don't need to work." She gives me a pointed look as she slides into the back of the car, making room for me to get in behind her. "You have a credit card for anything you need."

I wait patiently as Henny gives his instructions to the driver before continuing to speak. "That's not the point. I want to work."

Henny looks at me now. "Melody, take the time that you could be working and focus on your math grade instead. You need to focus onschool.You know that's all we ask. We've got everything else taken care of. Enjoy the freedom of not needing to hustle just yet and figure out what you want to major in." He arches his brow."Haveyou decided what you want your major to be yet?"

Now I really do roll my eyes.

Snapping my seatbelt on and folding my arms again, I look out the window, going silent. Maybe I would know what I wanted to do had they let me get a job and gave me some room to figure out what I was passionate about. But nope. In the reflection of the window, I see himthrow Isobel a concerned look, but she just shakes her head and slides on her sunglasses, going quiet.

The rest of the drive is filled with awkward silence. Because we're at a standstill. The same standstill we've been in for months.

Soon, we roll up to the massive gates at King Compound, and as we make our way through, I entertain thoughts of doing something completely mundane. Like taking a walk in Central Park by myself. Hopping on a plane to start a new life in Hawaii, maybe selling surfboards out of a shack on a beach.

Getting out from under Isobel's thumb.

We pull up next to Mason's Ferrari, and a little thrill courses through me at the sight. I step out of the car and make my way in, eager to get out from Isobel's suffocating presence, even if it's just for a minute. I nod at the butler and make my way through until I hear the unmistakable chatter of the family emitting from the dinning room.

I round the corner. The maids are still setting up the sideboards with the buffet and placing pitchers of mimosas on trivets on the walnut table. My seat has water, as usual. Maribel, Teresa, her husband Brody and their daughter Vivian are already sitting, talking and laughing. Mason's spot is empty.

I frown, my eyes roaming until I find him.

He's standing in a corner next to the big picture window that overlooks the back gardens, speaking with his father. Mason's back is turned towards me, and I let my eyes roam for just a second. Beating back familiar, lustful feelings.

Desperately forcing myself to forget any romantic feelings I harbor for him.

But it's hard when he's looking this delicious.

My heart races, and, as if he was right next to me, I inhale deeper at just the mere memory of his smell.

He's in all black today. Button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tucked into a pair of black pants that grip his ass just right. His pants are tailored perfectly, showing me the barest hint of black socks hidden by leather dress shoes. His chest is broad, and his arms are thicker than even the last time I'd seen him, filling out the sleeves of his shirt.