Chapter 19 Micah
Micah
I'm back at the house packing a bag, moving through my bedroom and gathering essentials.
The familiar routine of choosing clothes and toiletries grounds me after the chaos of the morning.
My duffle bag sits open on the bed, already half-full with jeans and shirts and the other mundane necessities of life.
A knock sounds at my front door. I assume it's Jamie or one of my neighbors checking in on me, making sure I'm healing okay after the fall. Small-town life means everyone knows your business and actually cares about it.
"Come in!" I call out, folding another shirt into the bag.
The door opens and I glance up, expecting Jamie's familiar grin or Mrs. Peterson from next door with another casserole. Instead, Derek and Colt walk into my house like they own the place, their Alpha energy filling my small living room with aggressive confidence.
My blood runs cold. "What the fuck are you two doing here?"
Derek's smile is all teeth, nothing friendly about it.
"I heard you went and got hitched to that famous drummer while still keeping this investigation open against us.
" He moves further into my house without invitation, looking around like he's cataloging everything I own.
"Tell the police it wasn't a big deal and we'll let bygones be bygones.
Drop the charges, say it was just an accident, and we'll leave you alone. "
Rage floods through me, hot and immediate.
"You made me fall from a goddamn ladder, you assholes.
And why? Because I wouldn't let you fuck me?
Or is this just because you can't contain your anger and had to take it out on someone?
" My voice rises with each word. "I owe you nothing and you both should still be in jail for what you did. "
Colt steps closer, his bulk intimidating in my small space. "We're not doing shit. Just having a conversation with an old friend."
"We're not friends." I take a step back, my hand instinctively reaching for my phone in my pocket. "Get out of my house."
Derek laughs, the sound harsh and mocking.
"It won't be your house for long if you don't start paying your bills.
" He swipes his arm across my kitchen table, sending the stack of bills and the dish of dried rose petals crashing to the floor.
Papers scatter everywhere, the petals crushing under his boots as he moves.
"Medical debt's a bitch, isn't it? Shame you had such a bad fall. "
I stare at the destroyed petals, at the bills now trampled and dirty, and something inside me goes cold and quiet. "Fantastic. Truly. You break into my house, threaten me, destroy my property. Real smart when you're already facing charges."
Another knock sounds at the door, this one more aggressive. Before I can say anything, Jamie strolls in and takes in the scene immediately. His expression shifts from casual to dangerous in seconds.
"Well, isn't this cozy." Jamie's voice drips with sarcasm.
"Even if there was nothing wrong with this picture and you were asking for remediation or some shit, Micah only has to call the station and let them know you're harassing him before you get taken into custody again.
" He pulls out his phone, making it obvious he's ready to dial.
"I suggest you two fuckers leave him alone. "
Derek turns his aggressive attention to Jamie. "You just think you're going to get some fame now that your Beta here is all wrapped up in famous dick. Hoping for a piece of that celebrity lifestyle?"
Jamie laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Actually, no. I would rather not have that. I'm perfectly content with my boring, normal life where I don't assault people for rejecting me." He takes a step forward, inserting himself between me and the two Alphas. "Get the fuck out. Now."
Derek and Colt exchange glances, clearly weighing their options. Finally, Derek sneers and heads for the door. "This isn't over. You'll regret pressing charges."
"That sounds like a threat," Jamie calls after them. "I'm sure the police would love to hear about that."
They leave, the door slamming behind them hard enough to rattle the frame. The silence that follows is deafening. I stand there staring at the mess on my floor, at the destroyed petals from Kellan's flowers, and feel something break inside me.
Jamie turns to me, his expression shifting to concern. "How are you? That could have been a lot worse."
"I could be better." I crouch down to start gathering the scattered bills, my ribs protesting the movement. "I was just grabbing some things and going back to Kellan's. Didn't expect a home invasion."
Jamie crouches beside me, helping collect papers. But then he stops and looks at me, really looks at me, with that expression that means he's figured something out. "I get that you're mates or whatever and all, but don't you think you're moving too fast?"
I freeze, papers clutched in my good hand.
Jamie steps closer, lowering his voice even though we're alone.
"What is really going on? Because I don't believe for a second that grumpy bastard Kellan was just like 'oh no, my first love, move in!
' That's not how relationships work, especially not with someone as closed off as he seems. So what's the truth? "
"You can't tell anyone." I meet his eyes, needing him to understand how serious this is.
Jamie's expression shifts to understanding. "It's fake, isn't it? The relationship. It's all for publicity."
I slowly nod, relief and guilt mixing in my chest. "They needed a different image for Kellan and the label.
I didn't really read what I was signing.
Tom, his manager, he made it seem like I was signing an NDA but it was actually the contract for the fake relationship.
By the time we figured it out, he'd already announced it on social media. "
"Jesus Christ." Jamie sits back on his heels. "That's manipulative as hell. Why didn't you fight it?"
"Because it would have been a PR nightmare.
The fans would have crucified me, said I was leading him on or using him.
And honestly?" I set the bills down. "Kellan is actually very sweet.
Not at all like his public persona. Being with him, even if it's fake, it's not terrible. It's actually kind of nice."
Jamie laughs, the sound surprised and genuine. "You don't call anyone sweet. Like, ever. So I'm going to take your word for it. But if he hurts you, if this arrangement goes south and you need out, call me and I'll be right there. Okay?"
"Okay." I smile despite everything. "Thanks."
"Do you need anything? Want me to stay while you finish packing?"
I shake my head. "No, I'm almost done. And honestly, it's nice to have a little vacation from all of this. I definitely won't miss running into Derek and Colt around town. How are they still out on bail anyway? I don't understand how that's legal given what they did."
Jamie's expression turns grim. "That's actually why I'm here rather than meeting you at the diner like we planned. The police are on their way. They wanted to talk to you about the case."
"What?" Dread pools in my stomach. "Why? What happened?"
As if on cue, there's another knock at the door. This time I recognize the rhythm, the official double-rap that law enforcement uses. I open it to find Officer Morrison and Officer Pinkney standing on my porch, their expressions carefully neutral.
Morrison gives me a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Micah. We're glad you're healing up. You look better than the last time we saw you."
"What's going on?" I don't invite them in, don't want to pretend this is a social call.
Pinkney shifts uncomfortably, not meeting my eyes.
Morrison clears his throat and pulls out a small notebook.
"We have all the eyewitness accounts now, along with your statement and Derek and Colt's version of events.
Based on what we've put together, it seems like it was a dangerous but unfortunate accident. "
The words hit me like a physical blow. "What?"
"They didn't seem to know how unsteady the ladder was," Morrison continues, his tone apologetic but firm.
"Looking at the evidence, it appears they were just messing around, not understanding the severity of the situation.
We'll be charging them with fleeing the scene and potentially reckless endangerment, but the assault charges won't stick. "
Anger floods through me, hot and righteous.
"What the actual fuck. You said they were charged with something similar after my accident.
With assaulting someone at a bar that same night.
And you know I didn't just fall. They did that shit on purpose.
I told you they were shaking the ladder even after I asked them to stop. "
Pinkney finally looks at me. "No one else saw the actual moment the ladder fell. The eyewitnesses only saw the aftermath. Without corroborating evidence that they intentionally caused you to fall with malicious intent, we can't prove assault. It's your word against theirs."
"Seriously?" I look between them, disbelief and fury warring in my chest. "Did someone pay you off or whatever? This makes no fucking sense. There were dozens of people working on that site. Someone must have seen them shaking the ladder."
Morrison's expression hardens. "We interviewed everyone who was there. Most people were inside the building or on the other side of the site. The ones who saw anything only saw you already falling or on the ground. That's not enough for an assault conviction."
Everyone looks surprised at my outburst, probably because I'm usually more mild-mannered, more controlled. But right now I'm too angry to care about being polite or reasonable.
"The chief is closing the case," Morrison says, and something in his tone suggests he's not happy about it either. "But we came here to see if you wanted to file a protection order or something like that. Keep Derek and Colt away from you legally."
I grimace, thinking about how effective that would be. A piece of paper telling violent Alphas to stay away from me. Sure, that'll work. "No. I'm just going to leave town for a while because you guys clearly can't do your fucking jobs."
Jamie steps forward, his expression dark. "I should have known something was wrong when you were dragging your feet on this case. Taking weeks to interview witnesses, losing evidence, suddenly deciding it was all just an unfortunate accident."
Pinkney opens his mouth to respond but I cut him off.
"Save it. Maybe I'll gather up some money and sue their asses in civil court.
Maybe you'll see that case a bit differently when a judge sees the permanent damage they did to my body.
" I gesture to my cast, to my chest where the scar runs hidden under my shirt.
"I might never be able to do construction again, not like I used to.
But sure, just an unfortunate accident. Keep telling yourself that. "
I grab my duffle bag from where it sits by the door, shouldering it with my good arm. The weight pulls at my healing ribs but I ignore the pain. I stalk outside, barely registering Morrison and Pinkney's attempts to apologize or explain further.
Jamie follows me to my truck, his expression concerned. "Hey. Text me when you get there and let me know you're alright. I don't like you driving when you're this angry."
"I'll be okay. I promise." I throw my bag in the truck bed, maybe with more force than necessary.
Jamie pulls me into a careful hug, mindful of my injuries. "I know. You always are. But I worry anyway because that's what friends do."