Chapter 41
Micah sat in his office, two fingers of whisky in the tumbler on his desk, even though it was still far too early in the day to be drinking. He”d made it to mid-afternoon at least.
Well, that”s what he was telling himself, anyway, as he stared at the amber liquid which he”d not yet tasted, while he tried to talk himself out of touching it altogether.
It had been three years since Sara died. Even longer again since the two of them had been an item. He should be over this by now. In fact, he was pretty sure he was…almost.
Despite holing himself up in his office and brooding, he wasn”t the moody wreck he normally was on the anniversary of Sara”s death.
Staying away from Melody last night and using his own bed for the first time since they’d started sleeping together, had left him feeling unexpectedly lonely and had resulted in him thinking more about Melody than he had about Sara.
He”d hurt her, he knew, with his withdrawal, but Micah had expected to be plagued with his usual guilt over letting Sara down and hadn”t wanted to inadvertently take it out on Melody. She sure as hell didn”t deserve that.
Conversely, though, that made him feel guilty in an altogether different way. Doubly so, in fact. First, feeling guilty that he”d withdrawn from Melody without any excuse or explanation, even though his intention had been to protect her from his own bad mood and brooding. Then feeling guilty that Sara was slipping from his mind, no longer his sole focus, as if he were guilty of forgetting her, even though they were no longer a couple when she died.
Even though she”d been living with another man.
A man Sara had chosen.
A man Sara had left him for.
A man whose hand Sara died at.
But this year, for the first time, Micah no longer felt the bone deep guilt that he might, somehow, have prevented it.
He”d managed to let go of all the usual second guessing.
What if he had just tried harder to be what she wanted him to be, even though he was opposed to it?
What if he’d tried harder to stay in touch with her, even after she had decisively cut him out of her life?
What if he”d tried harder to intervene when he first began to suspect that the relationship she shared with her new Master was more abusive than consensual.
What if; what if…
The world was full of what ifs.
The truth was, he’d tried all of those things, and he was finally beginning to accept that he’d done all he possibly could.
In an effort to compromise, he”d even agreed to a trial period with the two of them living a Master/slave relationship and he”d hated it. It had done nothing at all to improve their situation. In fact, if anything, it had just made things worse. Everything between them had become stiff and formal, and Sara herself hadn”t been happy with how things had played out. It was the very reason she had sought out someone else. Even Sara had realised that the Master/slave dynamic was never going to work between the two of them.
He had loved her, and they were fairly well matched when it came to kink, but the compatibility, in that particular area of the lifestyle, just hadn”t been there.
And Micah had stayed in touch with her after the breakup, even as rejected and heartbroken as he”d felt at the time. He hadn”t wanted to turn his back on her, so he”d left the avenues of communication wide open.
It was Sara who”d insisted their continued friendship was detrimental to her new relationship; the Master/slave relationship which she”d coveted and didn”t want to compromise.
It was Sara who had blocked his number, so Micah could no longer contact her.
And when he’d suspected things weren”t all as rosy as Sara had claimed, when he was worried that her new Master was jealous and controlling on a whole different level to a healthy Master/slave relationship, when he”d suspected that it had, in fact, been he who had insisted on Sara cutting their ties, Micah had co-opted some of their mutual friends to look out for her, and none had claimed to notice anything particularly untoward.
So maybe Micah had been jumping at shadows, seeing things that weren”t there in his latent grief over the end of their relationship.
Even the circumstances of her death were inconclusive.
Sara had been choked, but her lover had only been convicted of manslaughter, claiming it was the result of a tragic accident during a breath play scene, which had gone disastrously wrong.
Her autopsy had shown a number of welts and bruises but nothing truly outside of the scope of the lifestyle they were living. Nothing like the systematic violence and abuse that Melody had endured during her incarceration, which even she had accepted as just a characteristic of the slave union she was trapped in.
The depth of Micah’s feelings toward Melody had him looking at his past relationship in a completely different light.
Was it possible that he”d just never wanted to accept the truth? Preferring to wallow in the perceived guilt that he could have changed what he considered to be her coercion, rather than face the facts and accept that Sara simply didn”t want him anymore?
It was that mind-blowing comprehension that had Micah reaching for the whisky glass.
Before the liquid made it to his lips, however, he slapped it down again, the force with which he did so causing the amber liquid to slosh slightly, dribbling down the side of the glass and onto his desk. He swore and grabbed a tissue from the holder then blotted up the mess.
What the hell was he thinking? He needed to go find Melody and explain himself to her first.
He knew she”d been confused by his withdrawal today and his refusal to share her bed last night. It wasn”t fair to leave her hanging the way he had, because of his own personal crisis of conscience.
If he was seriously considering a meaningful relationship with the woman—and he was—then, at the very least, they needed to start out with honesty between them.
Micah cursed himself. Melody had been through enough at the hands of heartless men who had used her for their own selfish ends. The very last thing he wanted was to appear as if he was one of them, casting her aside as soon as he”d taken his fill, when, in reality, nothing could be further from the truth.
He was indebted to her, he realised with a start. This thing between them, which had started with his own lofty thoughts of liberating her and possibly doing something to redeem himself in the process, had been his deliverance.
How short-sighted he had been. After all was said and done, Melody had been the one who had saved him, made him see the truth for what it really was. She had brought about an epiphany in his own closed mind. How could he have been so blind?
Easily, of course. While he might rate his psychological prowess above that of the layman, when it came to studying oneself, it was nigh on impossible. Emotions inevitably got in the way of clear thinking. Hadn”t he postulated that very thing when he realised how he’d gotten things wrong with Melody, because he was far too close to the situation?
He knew better, but in the end, he’d known nothing at all, and it had taken Melody to show him the way.
And now, here he was, repaying her by behaving like a sulky, sullen kid who”d had his lollipop taken away. Shame washed through him. He’d always considered himself better than that, more in tune with the workings of his own mind. Level headed and rational, that was what he always strove to be, but this…
Micah shook his head and gave a wry laugh. This just proved he was human after all, didn”t it? That he was just as much a casualty of the whims and quirks of fate as the next man. As much a victim of his own emotions as anybody else, and that wasn”t a bad thing. In fact, it was wonderfully, reassuringly normal.
It was time to stop berating himself, learn from his mistakes, and know when to take action. And that time was right now. No more sitting here brooding over Sara, and no more beating himself over the head for not being superman.
And most importantly, no more letting Melody down. It was time to tell her the truth…about why he”d been behaving like an idiot, and exactly how he wanted to pursue their relationship.
She deserved a bit of stability in her life, and Micah wanted to be able to give it to her.
He strode purposefully out of the room and headed for the staff room. When he didn”t find Melody there, he wandered over to the boudoir. It was only when he couldn”t find her there, either, that he felt a trickle of trepidation crawl down his spine.
He popped back to his office and flicked on the security monitors to see where she might be in the vast building. He didn”t want to waste time, running around searching for her in this huge place.
Scrutinising each screen, Micah finally found what he was looking for.
Well, almost.
The camera in the bar showed signs someone had been working down there, and Micah realised Melody must have busied herself replenishing the stock, even though there was no sign of her right now. Nevertheless, he quickly made his way downstairs to find her, not even stopping to turn the security screens off.
Jogging downstairs with a spring in his step, he felt a new lightness in his heart which he was prepared to embrace.
He called out to Melody when he reached the ground floor, his voice ringing out through the cavernous, empty nightclub. There was no reply, so he headed back to check the stock room, frowning when he didn”t find her there.
Back at the bar, he took in the half empty bottle of water and the pile of broken-down boxes and swung his gaze to the emergency exit which was often used for easy access to the recycling area. The door was ajar, and Micah picked up what was left of the stock boxes, realising she must have gone out with a load already.
He’d crossed the dance floor and almost reached the door when he heard a shrill, terrified scream, which was abruptly cut short, making his blood run cold. Dropping everything, Micah sprinted for the door, reaching it in time to see a car speeding off, kicking up the gravel from the parking area in its haste.
It was too far away to get the number plate, but he noted the make, model, colour, and the direction it took off in. His gut instinct was to give chase, but that would take too long. He wasn”t wearing shoes, and his car keys were still upstairs.
Heart pounding and pulse racing, Micah looked around in case he was mistaken in his assumptions. ”Melody?” he called out with a despairing kind of hope.
There was no reply.
He glanced around and saw a trail of stock boxes and a distinctive scrape through the gravel where it looked like something had been dragged. Overcoming the urge to stand there and bellow like a wounded animal, Micah ran back into the club, heading for the security footage in his office and fumbling in his pocket for his phone along the way.
Thank God he had Detective Andy Storer”s personal number on speed dial.