Chapter 27 Kellan
Kellan
The next morning, Micah comes with me to the practice rooms. I'm not scheduled with the band today, choosing instead to do independent practice and work on some personal projects Tom doesn't need to know about.
The small practice rooms are quieter than the main space, more intimate, perfect for working through ideas without an audience.
I grab one of the guitars from the rack, this beautiful acoustic that rarely gets used since we're primarily an electric band.
The wood is warm under my hands, familiar and comforting.
I've been working on a melody for about a year now, something softer and more vulnerable than anything Lunar Ransom would ever record. Something that's just mine.
I start playing, fingers finding the chords automatically. Then I hum along, letting the melody guide my voice. It's rough, unpracticed since I don't usually sing. But it feels good to use my voice like this, to create something complete rather than just providing the rhythm section.
"I had no idea you could sing." Micah's voice startles me and I look up to find him watching with an expression of wonder.
I shrug, slightly embarrassed at being caught.
"I told you I did a little bit of everything before the band.
Vocals, piano, guitar, drums. Jack of all trades, master of none.
I haven't been in this room for a while though.
It's easier to just focus on drums and not think about what else I could be doing. "
Micah moves to the piano in the corner, an old upright that's probably been here since the building opened. He sits down and plays a simple tune, just four notes repeated. "I know that and that's it. My dad tried to teach me when I was a kid but I never had the patience for it."
I laugh, charmed by his honesty. "That's more than most people can play. And I can definitely do something with that. Play those four notes again, on repeat."
Micah does as I ask, the simple melody filling the small space. I pick up the guitar and find a tune that complements it, weaving around his notes with something more complex. The harmony builds between us, two simple parts creating something more interesting together than either would be alone.
Micah grins at me as he keeps playing, his good hand dancing across the keys.
For a few minutes, we just exist in this bubble of music and connection, creating something together without pressure or expectations.
This is what I've been missing, this pure joy of making music with someone just because it feels good.
I end the song and place the guitar down carefully, my chest tight with emotion. Micah stops playing and comes over to me, straddling my lap in the chair. His good hand frames my face and he pulls me into a heavy kiss.
The kiss deepens quickly, his tongue sliding against mine as my hands automatically go to his hips. I slide them down to grip his ass, pulling him closer until we're pressed together completely. He makes a sound into my mouth, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, and I want to hear it again.
My hands tighten on his ass, fingers digging into the muscle there.
Micah grinds down against me and I can feel him getting hard through his jeans.
Heat floods through me, arousal spiking fast. We're in a practice room where anyone could walk in, but right now I don't care. Right now I just want him.
Then the door bursts open and Tom stands there, his expression thunderous. "What the fuck is going on?"
Micah freezes on my lap, his face flushing red with embarrassment or anger or both. I keep my hands on him, refusing to let Tom's intrusion make this something shameful.
"You guys are supposed to be playing into a relationship, not actually having one." Tom's voice rises, his anger palpable. "I know that it's a temptation to get your dick wet, Kellan, but maybe not this one. He's temporary. He's a means to an end. This was supposed to be professional."
I grimace, my jaw clenching. "Get out, Tom."
"I think I underestimated your need to screw things up.
" Tom ignores me, his attention shifting to Micah.
"So from now on, Mr. Davis, you'll return to your house until the breakup portion of your contract.
A car will pick you up and drop you off for any required appearances, but you won't be staying with Kellan anymore.
I don't trust things to not blow up in my face between you two. "
"You can't do that." I stand, forcing Micah to climb off my lap. "The contract says he stays with me for appearances. Selling the relationship requires us to be together."
"The contract says he participates in promotional activities as required." Tom's smile is sharp. "Living arrangements aren't specified beyond the initial period. Consider this a modification to better serve the project goals."
Tom storms out, slamming the door behind him. The silence he leaves behind is deafening, oppressive.
Micah deflates immediately, all the tension draining out of him. He places his head on my shoulder, his weight heavy against me. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.
"Fuck, I'm sorry." The words feel inadequate. "This is my fault. I should have locked the door, should have been more careful."
"It was going to happen anyway at some point." Micah's voice is muffled against my shirt. "Tom was looking for a reason to separate us. I still know where you live though. He can't stop me from visiting."
"When you say it like that, it sounds like a threat." I try for humor but it falls flat. Nervous laughter escapes me and I cup Micah's face, tilting it up so I can see his eyes. "But I can see fear there. Real fear. What's going on? Is it those Alphas who hurt you?"
Micah pulls away slightly, his expression guarded.
"They're roaming the streets and I fucking hate it.
I see them around town, at the grocery store, at the gas station.
Everywhere I go, there's a chance I'll run into them.
I can sue them with the money I got from this contract, but it won't be immediate.
Civil cases take time. Jamie is looking into a protective order, but that's just a piece of paper. "
"Who's Jamie?" The name is familiar but I can't place it.
Micah laughs, the sound a little broken.
"Just a friend who's been helping me with everything.
My best friend, really. He's been checking on my house, dealing with the legal stuff, keeping me grounded through all this chaos.
But I'd rather not be at home while Derek and Colt are still roaming around.
The house feels unsafe now that they know where I live. "
"Fuck, I don't want you there either." The thought of Micah alone in that house, vulnerable to those Alphas who already hurt him once, makes my skin crawl. "Stay with Jamie then. Or get a hotel. I'll pay for it."
"I'll call Jamie, okay?" Micah pulls out his phone, already scrolling through his contacts. "See if I can crash at his place for a bit."
"Why aren't they in jail?" The question comes out harsher than I intend. "They assaulted you. Nearly killed you. How are they just walking around free?"
Micah stands, creating distance between us.
His expression shuts down, walls going up.
"Because there weren't any eyewitnesses that saw the whole thing.
People saw me falling and saw me on the ground after.
But nobody actually saw Derek and Colt shaking the ladder.
It's my word against theirs, and apparently that's not enough for assault charges. "
Something clicks in my mind, a memory from that day.
"I saw the end of it. When I came around the corner, they were at the bottom of the ladder and it was moving.
I told the police that when they interviewed me.
I couldn't really describe the guys because I was focused on you, but if I saw them again, I could absolutely identify them.
Point them out and confirm they were the ones there that day. "
"I can't ask you to do that." Micah shakes his head. "Getting involved in my mess, testifying in a potential trial, dealing with legal proceedings. That's too much."
I stand and close the distance between us.
"You're not asking anything of me that I wouldn't do for anyone else.
This isn't about our relationship or the contract or any of that.
This is about holding people accountable for hurting someone.
Go home, or go to Jamie's, wherever you feel safe.
And I'll talk to that officer who interviewed me, what was his name?
Morrison? I'll talk to him and we'll get this straightened out. "
Micah looks at me for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. "You'd really do that? Get involved in all of this?"
"Of course I would." I cup his face again, making sure he hears me. "You matter to me. What happens to you matters. If I can help make sure those assholes face consequences for what they did, then that's what I'm going to do."
"Thank you." Micah's voice is rough with emotion.
We stand there for a moment, just holding each other in the small practice room.
Outside, I can hear the sounds of the building, other musicians practicing and staff members going about their day.
But in here, it's just us, trying to figure out how to navigate a situation that keeps getting more complicated.
"I should go," Micah finally says, pulling away. "Pack some stuff, call Jamie, get out of that house before Tom sends someone to supervise my departure or something equally controlling."
"Text me when you're safe." I walk him to the door. "Let me know where you end up so I know how to find you."
"You planning to show up unannounced?" Micah's smile is teasing but there's hope underneath.
"Maybe. If that's allowed."
"It's definitely allowed." Micah kisses me once more, soft and sweet. "I'll see you soon."
He leaves and I stand in the practice room alone, staring at the guitar I abandoned and the piano with his fingerprints still on the keys. Tom just separated us, sent Micah back to an unsafe situation because he couldn't stand the idea of something real developing between us.
I pull out my phone and search for Deputy Morrison's contact information. The police station's number comes up and I dial before I can talk myself out of it.
"Riverside Police Department, how can I direct your call?"
"Deputy Morrison, please. This is regarding the Micah Davis case."
"One moment."
The hold music is generic and annoying, but I wait through it. This is important. More important than Tom's anger or the band's schedule or anything else happening in my life right now.
"Deputy Morrison speaking."
"Deputy, this is Kellan Hayes. You interviewed me a few weeks ago about an incident at a construction site. Micah Davis who fell from a ladder."
"I remember. What can I do for you?"
"I need to update my statement. I think I could identify the suspects if you handed me a lineup."