14. Micah
Iwalk through the house the next morning, with my new, barely-clinging-to-life monstera clutched against my side, and Tiia Hale’s sweet perfume lingering in my lungs like a gift she sent me away with.
The thought would irk her, I think. The idea that I could bring her home with me, that I’d smile about the night we spent together long after it ended and she’d left for work in the city.
Oddly, annoying her makes me happy.
It’s not a healthy foundation for two people to work from. It’s toxic and mean and not at all something two grown adults should strive for. But that’s okay, because I wasn’t born into a healthy, respectful relationship anyway.
The shit I was destined for was much uglier than that. So I consider this a win.
If I was more like my father, I’d have killed her already.
“He returns.” Felix is hunched at the counter when I walk into the kitchen, his back bowed and his hand wrapped around a cup of coffee. He regards me with long sweeps of his eyes, checking that I’m safe. Unharmed. Not bleeding. “You’ve been gone all night and half the morning.” Setting his coffee down, he straightens, and purses his lips. “Want to tell me where you’ve been?”
I circle the counter and set the monstera in the deep, steel sink. “No thanks.”
“So you were with Tiia Hale.” He says her name lazily: Tiiiiia Haaaaaale. “All night and into today. Sounds serious.”
“Sounds like you missed the part where I declined discussing it.” I’m bound to get my ass whooped by Mary, but I dump clumps of soil into the sink and begin emptying everything from the pot too big for the undernourished plant. “Where is everyone?”
“Christabelle should be down in a sec, though she’s heading to Manhattan this morning. The guys are securing the estate, because Stovic’s feeling fussy. And the dog is…” he looks down.
I’m on the opposite side of the counter now, so I don’t see, but I know Bastard dozes on the cold tile floor beneath his owner’s stool.
Felix nods toward the paper laid out on the counter. “Seems some shit went down in Brooklyn overnight.”
“Yeah?” I flip the tap on and rinse the monstera’s roots of the crappy dirt devoid of nutrients. “We were supposed to head there last night. I’m sorry I got busy.”
“Busy,” he smirks, sly and playful. “Bet you did. When do I get to meet this chick?”
“When Hell freezes over and my cock snaps clean off.” I massage the clumped soil and slowly dislodge chunks from the roots. “What kind of shit went down?”
“That guy, Carter?—”
“The dealer who dreams of sucking your dick?” I snort. “Little tweener with grand plans to become the next boss of bosses?”
“Had. Dreamt.” He points to the paper. “Gunned down around four this morning. It was done in the street, so the press has already spread it all over.”
“Shit.” I set my monstera down and yank the paper around so it’s right side up. Scanning the headlines, dread settles deep in my belly. “You think it was Wilkes? Why the fuck is he out here popping dealers who have nothing to do with him? Carter was a nobody.”
“He was a noisy nobody.” Felix picks up his coffee and brings it higher. “And he had big aspirations. We were supposed to meet with him last night, Micah. Now he’s dead. In the place we were supposed to meet, mere hours after we were supposed to meet him there.”
“I got busy.” I drop my head back and sigh. “Fuck, Lix. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t feel right taking the meeting without you, so…” He shrugs when I bring my head down again. “I got in the car and drove all the way to the gates. But you not being with us felt off, so we turned around and came home. Honestly, the fact you got busy possibly saved both our lives.” His lips curl into a devilish grin. “I think I should meet the woman who has the power to make you forget business. That must be some seriously magic p?—”
“Don’t say it.”
“What!” he laughs. “I was gonna say ‘pulchritudinous.’” He giggles. “It means pretty.”
“You must’ve gotten today’s word of the day email,” I sneer.
Coming back to the monstera, I breathe through the temper beating in my veins. The protective instinct I’ve always had when it comes to anyone with the last name Malone coming around anyone of the female variety that I’d rather keep alive.
It’s the way of our world: if we like a woman, chances are, someone in our family—our dad, typically—will rape and kill her. It happened to a girlfriend of Archer’s. And one of Felix’s. It happened so fucking often, I learned to never bring a woman back to this house and expect her to be okay.
But I force my jaw to relax. Exhale the poisonous rage coursing in my blood. Because our father is dead now, Felix is happy and practically married, and none of us took up our sperm donor’s habit of destroying his own family to exert a little power.
“You should bring her around,” Lix says. “Invite her to dinner. I think it’s important I meet the lady who can make you forget me.”
“I didn’t forget you.” I give the monstera and its roots a gentle shake. “I got busy. Found something else I’d rather do than be here. But I didn’t forget you.”
“I might’ve gone to that meeting alone.” He presses a hand to his chest. “Been gunned down in the street. The tragedy…”
“But you didn’t go alone.” Christabelle strides into the kitchen in four-inch heels and a pressed skirt suit that makes her look like a million dollars.
She’s class. She’s money. But as she comes closer, she extends her fingers and waits for the dog to scramble to his feet and trot to her.
“And the fact you didn’t means your intuition was on the mark.” She scratches the top of Bastard’s head and continues in our direction. “You’re brothers, and you protect each other. You couldn’t go without Micah to that meeting any more than you could go without your suit.” She comes up behind Lix and presses a gentle kiss to the back of his head.
It’s quick.
Quiet.
There’s no fanfare, no loud mwah to turn the gesture into something silly. There’s just Christabelle Cannon loving my brother the way he deserves.
And there’s my brother, closing his eyes for a beat and absorbing the fact he’s found something that we, as children, were convinced we would never have.
We were bred to think that money, status, turf, and power were the ultimate goals to make a man happy. We’ve had those things all our lives. But it took until Archer found Minka, then for Felix to find Christabelle, for us to realize what a man should really hope for.
Love.
Lovemakes a man powerful, and having something to fight for makes him immortal.
“Keep listening to that intuition,” she murmurs, hugging her man from behind and speaking just loud enough only the three of us can hear.
Funny that seeing her hold him that way, speaking to him from behind, would make me think of Tiia. Not because I want her to hug me like that, or for other fanciful, romantic reasons. But because if it was me whispering to her from behind, my lips hidden from her view, I’m not entirely convinced she’d be able to hear me.
Setting the monstera carefully on the counter, I reach into my pocket and take out my phone. While Felix and Christabelle do their thing, I swipe my screen unlocked and navigate to my texts. Opening a fresh chat, it bothers me somewhere in the recesses of my mind that my lips curl into a stupid, giddy smile. But I type anyway.
How are your ears, Hale? Have you been to a specialist? You told me last month that a cold had you all blocked up, but you’re still staring at my lips when I talk. What’s up with that?
Hitting send, I lower my phone and glance across the kitchen when it turns too quiet. When everything stops, and the beady warmth of someone’s stare burns my skin.
I pause not only on Felix’s gaze, but Christabelle’s too. “What?”
“This is cute.” Christabelle comes around and perches her ass on Felix’s lap. She crosses her legs and wraps her arm around his neck for balance. And using her free hand, she flicks her wrist my way with nonchalance. “This smiley, in lust thing. It’s cute.”
“I’m neither cute, Ms. Cannon, nor in lust.”
“‘Ms. Cannon,’” Felix sniggers. “He’s getting formal with you, Darling. You’ve hit him where it hurts.”
“I’m not hurt!” And yet, the moment my phone beeps, my eyes shoot down to the device in my hand.
That cold came with an ear infection. Doctor says I just have to wait for things to clear up. Now mind your business and leave me alone. Have a nice life, Micah Malone. I’m probably committing a crime simply by communicating with you.
I laugh, but when that pair of stares continues to warm the side of my face, I cough to cover the sound.
Without replying, I lock my screen and drop my phone into my pocket. Then I pick up the monstera and give it one last gentle shake to dislodge water from the roots.
“Mind your business,” I tell the duo. “Leave me alone.”
“It’s love,” Christabelle sighs. “Which means we really should meet her. If she’s moving in here eventually?—”
“Moving in?” I shoot her a glare. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“If she’s moving in, then our hormones will eventually sync! It’s important we meet sooner rather than later to make sure it’s all…” she flicks her wrist again, “copacetic. You don’t want us on our period at the same time if we don’t even get along.”
“No one’s hormones are syncing except yours and Lix’s. Because he’s a bitch, and you’re never leaving.” I reach across and steal his three-quarters-full coffee, then abandoning the too-big pot and worthless dirt, I nab the plant and start toward the back door. “No one is moving in, Cannon. And no one is meeting anyone. I’m allowed to spend time with a woman and not turn it into this whole Malone-gets-whipped shit that Lix and Archer have going on.”
“Bring her to dinner,” Felix calls at my back. “I wanna know who I’m protecting now.”
“Mind your business.” I stomp out the back door and onto the covered patio.
On my left, the pool glistens, blue water sparkling under sunshine that’s quickly heading toward blistering. But I cut right and move onto grass.
Guards stand at their posts, their entire job to protect Lix and secure the grounds so no one steps foot on our property without our permission. I ignore them and make a beeline for my greenhouse, since the monstera needs a new pot. New soil. Nutrients, and way less water than the daily jugful it’s been getting while living with Tiia.
I got a taste of what that’s like.
I showered at her apartment. Watched her eat breakfast. Waited as she got dressed, sipped her coffee, and brushed her long, dark locks.
I simply observed her morning routine. And already, I want more.
So as I push through the greenhouse door and set my things on the steel counter in the middle of the humid hotbox, I take out my phone and reread her last message:
That cold came with an ear infection. Doctor says I just have to wait for things to clear up. Now mind your business and leave me alone. Have a nice life, Micah Malone. I’m probably committing a crime simply by communicating with you.
I stare at it for a full minute. Dissecting her words, and skipping the bit where she asked me to leave her alone. I don’t consider her request serious. Or reasonable.
I smile at where she thinks speaking to me is a crime. And when I can think of nothing witty to type in reply, I hit dial instead, place the call on speaker, and set the phone on the counter.
“Go away, Micah,” she answers in exasperation. But fuck, my breath comes a little easier when her voice registers in my mind. “Last night was a lapse in judgment. We’re done now.”
“We have joint custody of a monstera adansonii, Ms. Hale. You have to speak to me.”
“You stole my plant. Which is just another crime added to your already lengthy rap sheet. I’d rather not lose my career or my freedom over a man who steals trees in the middle of the night.”
“You’re getting pretty fucking mouthy about that ‘crime’ shit, now that we’re not in the same room, Grá. Feeling confident over there?”
“Feeling tired and grumpy. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
I set an empty pot on the counter and simply stop. Smile. Fuckkkkk me, because my stomach flips with happy nerves. “It was worth it. I got the same amount of sleep as you did, but you don’t hear me complaining about it.”
“My apartment smells of sex.”
“Your apartment smelled of fried eggs and coffee when I left. If it smells like sex now, you and I are gonna have words.”
“Yeah?” In the background, the bell above the shop door rings, and I see the scene clearly in my mind. I picture it exactly, including the chair beside the door that once acted as a plant stand. “What are you gonna do about it?” she challenges. “Get mad at me? Shout at me?”
No, but I’ll brand your ass and make you understand I don’t share.
“My brother wants me to bring you to the house for dinner.”
“Your brothe—” Like I stuck a hot poker down her throat, she chokes. “What?”
Yeah, Micah. What??
“Um…” So fucking stupid. Take it back. Take it back! “Felix. He wants me to bring you to the house. For dinner.”
“Felix Malone…” She gulps, audibly uncomfortable. “The Felix Malone?”
“Yeah.” For fuck’s sake, shut up! “But we don’t call him the Felix Malone, or he’d get all puffy and excited. He’s just Lix, and he figured out I was with you all night. And his girlfriend is doing that thing women do, inviting you over for a meal. So now, I guess I’m extending the offer to you.”
“H-his girlfriend. As in, the Christabelle Cannon? Cannon Daily heiress and mega-rich queen bee. That girlfriend?”
“Yeah… but we don’t call her the Christabelle Cannon either. She’s just Christabelle. Or Cannon. Or Debbie.”
“Debbie?”
“It’s a thing.”
I pick up my pot and walk it to a bin filled with soil I’ve created, bursting with nutrients and far superior to any store-bought potting mix. Digging the pot in and filling it most of the way, I scoop it up again and think of Tiia sleeping on my chest for most of the night. I think of her supple breasts pressed to my skin. Her soft breath, tickling my flesh. I think of her hair against my nose…
And fuck, I think of doing it again tonight.
“I could pick you up around six,” I suggest. “Bring you back to the house.” I pause before adding, “You’d be safe. And despite your bullshit teasing, you wouldn’t be breaking any laws.”
“I mean…” I know her mind spins out of control. That her palms probably sweat, and her heart gallops.
She barely tolerates me. She’s hardly comfortable when it’s just the two of us in the room. So add Felix and Christabelle, and she’s about to freak out.
“Tiia?”
“Do you want me to come to dinner?”
“What?”
“You said Felix wants me to come. And Christabelle wants me to come. But you haven’t actually mentioned your wants. I don’t…” She draws a deep breath, then exhales again so the sound rolls along the line. “What is this, Micah? What are we doing here?”
“We’re…” Fuck. What are we doing here? “I just… I like being near you, Grá. It feels good, physically, to be in the same space as you. That’s all I know.”
“So you want me to just… come to your house? The house widely reported to be where women go to die.”
It’s a sucker punch, right to my gut. Her words are so cold—and yet, so fucking factual, it makes me sick.
“I’ve lived in New York my entire life,” she whispers. “I know who your family is. Which means I’m familiar with your father’s reputation to make babies with as many women as he could trap. The papers have covered, in detail, how these women were never seen again after their time with him.”
“He’s dead.” I put down the prepped pot and press my hands to the steel counter.
She reminds me of all the things I already know about this house. About this family. This life.
Twenty minutes ago, I didn’t want her here either. But now I do. I want her to see my home so fucking much, it makes my stomach twist with nerves. With need.
“He’s dead, Tiia, and his sons aren’t the same. If you come here, I promise you’ll be protected.”
“Micah…”
“Just think about it. I’ll be outside your apartment at six; if you slide into my car, then you’re accepting my invitation. And if you don’t…” I stop and swallow. “Then, you don’t. That’s your choice.”
“And if I choose not to?” she rasps. “If I told you I have no desire to ever meet your family or see the home that Timothy Malone the Second tarnished? If I told you I don’t want to be in your world?”
“Well—”
“Would it be the end of us?” Her voice cracks with emotion, catching me by surprise, when she typically makes such a good show of aloofness. “Because I kinda want to spend time with you still. In private. At my apartment.”
“It wouldn’t be the end.” I lower to my elbows, hovering over my phone on the counter, and comb my fingers into my hair. “I’m not done with you yet, either. But if you’re worried about Tim’s legacy… you’re safe, okay?”
“Hey, Micah!”
I shove up at Felix’s shout and turn toward the greenhouse door. Tiia obviously hears him too, because her breath comes to a stop, and our call goes completely, deathly silent.
“Where are you?”
“In here!” I grab my phone and take it off speaker, then bringing it to my ear, I turn toward the door. “I’ll be out front of your apartment at six. If you feel brave, come out, and I’ll show you my world. But if you don’t…” I open the greenhouse door and spy my brother twenty feet away.
Our eyes meet, but then his move to the phone pressed to my ear, and he closes his lips and silences.
“If you don’t,” I continue, “then I won’t be mad. I’m not done spending time with you, Tiia. Where we do it is entirely up to you.”
“You have to hang up now, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” I wave Felix inside and circle back to the steel counter so I can finish rehoming the monstera before it truly dies. “I have things to do.”
“Illegal things?”
I snicker and, tilting my head, hold the phone between my ear and shoulder so I can work. “I never do illegal things. And I especially never discuss illegal things on the phone.”
I glance across when Lix comes to a stop beside me, leaning against the counter and folding his arms.
“I’ve gotta go. But I’ll see you at six.”
She exhales a soft sigh and nods, though I’m not there to see her head move. “Alright. See you later. Oh, and Micah?”
“Yeah?” I meet Felix’s eyes and know he’ll wait. Patiently. Respectfully. “What’s up?”
“I want it on record that I never asked for any of this. I told you to go away and leave me alone.”
“Good thing I rarely listen. I’d hate to have missed out on this.”
Pulling the phone from my ear and killing our call before she can convince me to cast my entire life and family aside and exist only within her apartment walls, I slip the device into my pocket and give my brother all of my attention. “What?”
“You like her.” His smile turns sweet. Almost angelic, if the devil was ever capable of such a thing. “Shit, Micah. You’ve actually caught feelings for someone, huh?”
“I’m not discussing it with you.” Even with my father dead, hard lessons are nearly impossible to cast aside. And the Malone curse, it seems, is to lose anything good that has ever happened to you. I’m not ready for Tiia Hale to be struck down just yet. “What did you want?”
“I want you to stop being an unfeeling machine, acting as though you’re another soldier like Stovic and Michaels, and instead, remember you’re my brother.” He steals back his coffee and sips. “As your brother, I’m asking you to talk to me about that girl. Because I’ve never, in my thirty-four years, seen you bring someone home.”
“I haven’t brought her home.” But I might. Tonight. Maybe. “She’s literally never been here.”
“She’s already here!” He throws his free hand up. “She’s in every thought you have. In the phone calls you make. The texts you send. You’ve got half a greenhouse dedicated to her dying ivy, and a fuck-ton of bad attitude to toss around this morning, though I know your night was fan-fucking-tastic. The look in your eyes says she’s important, and the love in my heart says I wanna know about it.”
He presses his hand to my shoulder, squeezing as I look at it. “If it matters to you, then it matters to me. And if you’ve caught feelings for her, then fuck, Micah, I’ve caught feelings for her. We’ve spent our entire lives fighting a war within our own home. But our Stalin is dead now, so if Tiia Hale is gonna be part of this family, then I want to know her too. Now. Not in a year, or ten years.”
“You’re skipping way ahead.” I brush his hand off and turn back to my work. “She’s a woman I’m hanging out with, but you’re jumping to family and forever and all sorts of serious shit.”
“We lost Arch and Tim for half our lives. They’re our family, but we let them go, knowing it was for their own good. But that was sixteen years we’ll never get back. Sixteen years of not knowing the men they had become. Of not having their backs. We risked losing them forever, because we were too far away to do any damn thing if shit went bad. And we missed out on the good shit, too—like getting to spend time with the women they’d fallen in love with.”
He grabs my prepped pot just as I lift the monstera to place it inside, drawing my eyes and my ire as he pulls it out of my reach. “If Tiia matters, then I’m not losing sixteen years of hanging out with her. And if she doesn’t,” he places the pot behind his back, childish and annoying, “then say the words, ‘Tiia Hale is nothing but tasty pussy, and I don’t have feelings for her.’”
My teeth snap closed and my hands ball into dangerous fists.
“Say it,” he taunts. “Tell me she’s just sex. If she’s not important, I’ll let it go. But if she’s gonna be family someday, then she’s family today. I don’t intend to waste more time.”
“Lix…”
“So she’s just pussy?” He sets down his coffee and brings the pot back around, hugging it to his chest with one arm while he uses the other to grab the plant from my hands and jam it into the dirt. “She’s pretty pussy, I’ll give her that. But since it’s not serious, I’ll let Stovic know. He can take her for a spin next week. No reason not to share her around, right? Michaels can go after. I’m not about sharing women with you anymore, since I found my family in Christabelle. But if she never existed, then it would totally be a possibility. You and I… we had good times, right? We knew how to pick them. If Christabelle didn’t have my heart, I bet I could’ve found time in my schedule for Ms. Ha?—”
I snatch the blade from my pocket, my hand moving even without my conscious thoughts giving permission to do so. Flicking it open, I set the tip at my brother’s jugular, and sneer when he only grins.
“Put the plant down, Lix. And back the fuck up out of my space.”
He snickers, completely unfazed by how close he is to death.
“I expect to meet her soon.” He sets the now-full pot on my steel table and gives it a little pat. “I want to know her, so bring her to the house before I let myself into her apartment and scare the poor woman half to death.”
He makes his way to the door, but stops before opening it. “Oh, and we have a meeting in an hour. Go shower off your night of fucking, and get presentable. We have a mess to clean up.”