PHOENIX

11| THERE WASN'T ANOTHER SHORTCUT

Ever since Jackson had discovered that Melissa was staying at the very same hotel as him, his curiosity had refused to leave him alone. It wasn't simply curiosity, though. It was something far more complicated than that. A mixture of unanswered questions, lingering resentment and emotions he had spent years trying to bury had convinced him that following her was the right thing to do. He needed to know what she was doing, who she was meeting and whether her sudden appearance had anything to do with Roy. He knew keeping track of someone like Melissa Roy wasn't going to be easy, but he had already decided that even the smallest clue about her activities could prove useful in the future.

For the past thirty minutes, Jackson had been sitting quietly inside his car in the hotel parking lot, his attention fixed firmly on the main entrance. He had deliberately parked where he could see everyone coming and going without attracting unnecessary attention, and now all that remained was to wait. Patience had become one of his greatest strengths over the last five years, so the thought of spending hours inside the car didn't bother him in the slightest. If it took the entire day for Melissa to appear, then he would spend the entire day waiting. He had nowhere else he needed to be, and for the moment, this had become the only thing that mattered.

As the minutes slowly dragged by, boredom eventually got the better of him. Reaching into his pocket, Jackson pulled out his phone and opened Candy Crush, deciding it was better than staring endlessly at the hotel doors. His fingers moved across the screen almost absentmindedly, matching colourful sweets while his attention remained divided. One eye stayed on the game, but the other continuously drifted back towards the hotel entrance, making sure he didn't miss Melissa if she suddenly appeared. Inevitably, his thoughts wandered back to her as well. It was only a little after eight o'clock in the morning, and despite everything that had happened between them, he still remembered one small detail that irritated him more than he cared to admit. Melissa had never been an early riser. Unless she had something important planned, weekends usually saw her sleeping until eleven in the morning without the slightest bit of guilt. Jackson quietly sighed to himself, frustrated that after five years, his mind still remembered insignificant details like that as though they had never been apart.

The memory only led him further down a path he didn't want to travel. Melissa's betrayal still hurt in ways he couldn't fully explain. Calling it a betrayal almost felt like an understatement because what she had done had gone far beyond breaking his trust. She had almost cost him his life. The physical wounds had healed long ago, but the scars left behind by that day had never truly disappeared. Some of them couldn't be seen at all. Every time he thought he had finally moved on, another memory surfaced to remind him that a part of him was still trapped in the past. Shaking his head, Jackson forced himself to push those thoughts aside before the bitterness swallowed him whole. He couldn't allow emotions to interfere with what he was trying to accomplish.

Another thirty minutes passed with agonising slowness. Jackson continued playing Candy Crush while repeatedly lifting his eyes towards the hotel entrance, growing more restless every time the doors opened for someone who wasn't Melissa. An entire hour had now gone by, yet there was still no sign of her. Doubt slowly began creeping into his mind. Perhaps he had remembered her routine incorrectly. Maybe she had already left before he arrived and he had wasted the entire morning waiting for someone who wasn't even there. It wouldn't be the first time he had been wrong where Melissa was concerned. Looking back over the past five years, he had realised that he had been mistaken about far too many things involving her.

Just as he was beginning to accept that the morning had been a complete waste of time, the hotel's glass doors slid open once again. Jackson immediately lifted his head, and there she was.

Melissa stepped outside at an unhurried pace, pausing just beyond the entrance as her eyes slowly swept across the parking lot. Jackson instinctively lowered himself slightly in his seat, careful not to draw attention to himself while continuing to watch her. A moment later, she reached into her handbag, pulled out her phone and quickly dialled a number before raising it to her ear. Even as the phone rang, her eyes continued searching the parking lot as though she was expecting someone to be there.

Jackson's heartbeat quickened. Who was she calling?

Jackson watched Melissa's lips move as she spoke into the phone, but the conversation was so brief that it was over almost as soon as it had begun. She lowered the phone from her ear and ended the call without another word. Barely a few seconds later, a car pulled up beside her as though it had been waiting for that very call. Jackson immediately tensed in his seat. The front passenger door opened, and the same scarred man he had seen before stepped out. Jackson recognised him instantly. That long scar stretching from his left eyebrow, across his nose and down to the corner of his mouth wasn't something a person forgot. Without saying a word, the man walked around the vehicle and opened the rear door for Melissa. She slipped her phone back into her handbag before climbing into the car without the slightest hesitation. Once she was comfortably seated inside, the scarred man closed the door behind her and paused for a brief moment, his sharp eyes scanning the parking lot with obvious suspicion before he climbed back into the driver's seat. A moment later, the vehicle pulled away and disappeared towards the exit.

Jackson remained exactly where he was for several more moments, resisting every instinct telling him to follow immediately. Yesterday's close call was still fresh in his mind, and he wasn't about to repeat the same mistake twice. If the Roys had posted lookouts around the hotel to watch for anyone following Melissa, rushing after them now would only expose him. He patiently watched the parking lot, allowing enough time to pass before finally deciding the area appeared clear. Only then did he start his own car and slowly pull out of his parking space, heading in the same direction Melissa's vehicle had taken while making sure to leave a comfortable distance between them.

It didn't take Jackson very long to catch sight of the car again. They weren't driving particularly fast, nor did they appear to be in any kind of hurry, which made keeping them in view surprisingly easy. He settled into a steady rhythm, maintaining enough distance that he wouldn't attract attention while making sure he never lost sight of them completely. As the journey continued, his thoughts refused to stay still. Where exactly were they going? Was Melissa simply running errands, or was she on her way to meet someone important? More importantly, was this connected to Roy's organisation or was he chasing nothing more than an ordinary trip through the city? Every possibility seemed equally likely, and the uncertainty only fuelled his determination to keep following.

After driving through the city for some time, Melissa's vehicle merged onto the highway. Jackson quietly followed, his curiosity growing with every passing kilometre. It wasn't until he noticed the direction they were travelling that he realised they were heading towards the mall.

His heart skipped a beat.

Almost immediately, his mind went back to what had happened the previous day when Melissa had nearly caught him following her. He had been lucky enough to escape without exposing himself, but he doubted he would be fortunate a second time if he repeated the same mistake. Determined to be smarter this time, Jackson quickly abandoned the idea of remaining directly behind them. Instead, he searched for an alternative route, hoping to find a shortcut that would allow him to reach the mall before Melissa's car arrived. If he could get there first, he could choose a good vantage point and observe everything without risking another close call. Unfortunately, the more he searched, the more obvious the truth became. There wasn't another shortcut. The only practical route to the mall was the very one Melissa's driver had already taken.

Jackson pressed harder on the accelerator, silently praying he wouldn't attract the attention of a traffic officer and end up with a speeding ticket. Every second felt precious, and although anxiety steadily gnawed at him, he knew allowing it to take over would only make him careless. He forced himself to focus on the road ahead, weaving through traffic as carefully as he could without losing too much time. The moment the mall came into view, his eyes instinctively swept across the surrounding roads, searching for any sign of police vehicles. Finding none, he finally allowed himself to breathe a quiet sigh of relief before steering into the sprawling parking lot, his gaze moving continuously from one parked vehicle to another as he searched for Melissa's car.

Although he didn't immediately spot the vehicle he had been following, Jackson's eyes quickly landed on someone far more difficult to miss. Standing just outside one of the clothing stores was the scarred man, his intimidating figure impossible to overlook even from a distance. Jackson recognised the boutique immediately. It was Melissa's favourite clothing store. Seeing her bodyguard standing outside its entrance made him realise something that irritated him more than it should have. She hadn't lied to him all those years ago when she told him it was her favourite place to shop. The only thing she had lied about was how often she actually came here.

The memory surfaced almost immediately. Back when they had been dating, Jackson had once asked Melissa which clothing store she liked the most. She had casually mentioned this very boutique, but instead of believing her, he had immediately assumed she was lying. At the time, he had convinced himself she was deliberately choosing a more modest answer because she knew he couldn't afford expensive gifts. The boutique's name alone hadn't sounded elegant enough for him that he concluded that it catered to people who couldn't afford expensive clothing, and he couldn't shake the feeling that she was simply trying to spare his pride. Melissa never spoke much about the place afterwards, and the more she avoided the subject, the more convinced he became that she only visited it whenever they were together instead of shopping there regularly. Looking at it now, he realised how wrong he had been. The boutique wasn't outrageously expensive as he had known but it sold fashionable clothing of good quality.

Melissa had never actually told him she came from a wealthy family, yet Jackson had never truly believed she came from a background anything like his own. From the very first moment he saw her sitting in that bar, there had been something about her that quietly spoke of privilege. It wasn't something she flaunted or used to make others feel inferior. It was simply there, woven into the way she carried herself, the confidence in her posture and the effortless grace that seemed to follow her wherever she went. She looked like someone who had never experienced the hardships that had shaped his own childhood, someone who had never gone to bed hungry wondering where the next meal would come from or spent sleepless nights worrying about whether there would even be a roof over her head the following month.

Looking back now, even the smallest details suddenly seemed different. Melissa had always used an Uber whenever she came to see him, something he had thought was slightly unusual even back then. Not once during their relationship had she ever asked him to drive her home, and she had always insisted on arranging her own transport instead. At the time, he hadn't questioned it too deeply, but standing there now, he found himself wondering whether she had simply never wanted him to know where she lived. From the conversations they had shared years ago, he remembered her mentioning that she still lived with her father, the man who had raised her alone after her mother passed away when Melissa was only about five years old. Back then, he had accepted that explanation without giving it much thought. Now, however, he couldn't help wondering how much of what she had told him had actually been true.