Melanie Gaydos Novels & Stories

“He’s a jobless cunt, and the only thing he’s running now is his mouth while sitting at a slot machine in some shady bar downtown.” She stood up, but I was already pointing at the door. “Now get the hell out of my office before I call security.” Melanie’s face hardened. She grabbed her purse and stomped toward the door, her heels clicking angrily against the floor. “And Melanie?” I said just as she reached for the handle. She turned slightly. “Next time you want money… try a GoFundMe.” -- “I swear, Bae, I’m not making any of this up,” I said as I stabbed a piece of grilled chicken with my fork.

Continuing my pace, hands now in my mouth as a start feasting on my nutritionist nails. “Who said that Alec needs to find out?” asks Grey calmly with a sly smile tugging at his lips. “I know that face, I don’t like that face. It got us in trouble a lot as kids. Greyson, what are you thinking about? Asks a slightly terrified Xander. “Mel can always spray herself with scent masking spray. Then all she has to do is actively avoid him while he’s here. She could try and stay out of the house. I mean duh! It’s not that hard.”

“When I do this, you’re going to feel it. It’s going to burn. You might black out. You might seize. You are not dying, do you hear me? You are not dying. Trust me. Trust Baylee. Trust Collin. Trust your mate. You’re safe. We’re here.” Melissa swallowed hard. Looked at Baylee. Baylee swallowed, too. “You trust me?” she whispered, voice shaking. Melissa smiled, small and tired and all warmth. “Baby,” she breathed, “I’ve always trusted you.” Baylee’s throat closed. Her eyes flooded. She held it down. Barely. Melody nodded once like okay, emotions acknowledged, now we cut god-wires. She pulled on a pair of gloves. They weren’t latex. They were something else, something she’d worked oil into, som

Leo says as he checks with his sister. “We can go in the water. Melody do you want to go in first and then, they can go?” Gage asks. "Yes, I'll go in first," Melody says, dragging her kayak toward the green-tinted waters. The cool liquid laps at her feet as she wades in, sending a pleasant shiver up her spine. She settles into her yellow kayak with practiced ease and secures the black neoprene skirt around the rim, her movements confident from years of experience. Once sealed in, she feels the familiar sense of freedom as the bay's rippling waves trickle away from her bow.