Chapter 14 #2
I felt a tiny spark of anger rushing up my spine. “Was waiting for you. For apology!”
“I—fuck you,” he spat.
I took a step back. He was…mad at me? My head began to spin. Had I done something wrong? Pushed him into something? Read his signals incorrectly?
Had I…oh god, had I hurt him?
“Micah.” My voice wobbled in the back of my throat. “Did I do something—”
“Fuck,” he whispered, cutting me off. “No, look. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I took off, okay? Is…is that why you’re here? For an apology?”
“No. I’m here to take you home.”
He stumbled a step back. “What?”
“Sleepover, remember?” I raked my fingers through my hair, a little frustrated because why was he acting so confused? “You can’t go home.”
“Yes, I can. This is—I’m being stupid, okay? This whole thing with Hunter, it’s whatever. It’s…” He stopped. “He’s not here, is he?”
Obviously, his thing with Hunter was not “whatever,” but I wasn’t going to fight him on it. He was a stubborn bastard, which was one of the things I liked so much about him.
“No. He’s not here. But I was at my game tonight, so I didn’t watch the stands.”
His shoulders sagged, and he shook his head. “It’s fine. He’s probably off sulking. I’m just going to go home and relax and let myself feel fucking comfortable in my own place—”
“Okay. I drive.”
“Vanya,” he started, but I stepped forward to close the distance between us, and when I clutched his wrist, he went quiet.
And pliant.
Just the way I wanted him.
“Come.”
“You don’t need to do that,” he murmured, but his hand turned to find mine, and his fingers slotted between my own.
I couldn’t hide my smile. “Yes, but I drive all this way. Might as well make use of it.”
He didn’t argue this time. He put his hand on my elbow instead, tucking his cane in close to his body, and followed me to the car.
While he got situated, I took my time glancing around the parking lot at whatever lingering crowd was left, but there wasn’t a sign of the stalker. I gave it a few extra minutes, but when I was sure we were alone, I put the car into drive and headed for the street.
“You want some food?” I asked, breezing past the guard at the gate.
Micah sighed. “Not really.”
“You eat today?”
He scoffed and turned to face me. “Yes, Dad. I ate today.”
“Mm, no.” I reached for him in spite of myself, fingers grazing over his jaw. “Maybe Daddy, if you really want.”
“Fuck you!” He pulled away from me, but he was unable to hide his smile or the flush that crept over his cheeks.
I let my hand fall back to the steering wheel. “Mm. Maybe later. If you are very good boy.”
“I hate you.”
I smiled. “No. I don’t think you do.”
He didn’t argue, which was something. We fell into another comfortable silence until we got close to his place. I thought maybe he’d dozed off. I was exhausted, too, after the game, and if it weren’t for Micah, I would have definitely been in my bed.
But then he shifted and said, “I really am sorry about this morning.”
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. Not really. But I understood.
He nodded. “Did you, ah…did you win your game?”
“Yes. Not great points, but new goalie took the last period, and we finished 2-1. He’s going to be good player, I think.”
“Are they thinking of trading you, or—”
“No. Probably backup goalie. San Jose want him, I think. But it’s all difficult now with new owner making so many changes.”
“Yeah,” Micah said with a scoff. “Journey’s a good guy, but he can be such a pain in the fucking ass.”
“Journey?” It took me a second to place the name, but then it struck me. “Oh. Pretty guy, friends with Ben?”
Micah went pale and didn’t brace himself when I took the turn onto his street. “Oh shit. You’re not supposed to know that yet.”
“Don’t worry. I am vault of secrets. But that makes me feel better. I meet him the other day. Wasn’t bad guy.”
“No. He can be a bit of a dick, but he’s not a bad guy.” The way he said that told me there was more to him and Journey than old friends, but I was going to let that lie for the moment.
“He was worried about you.” I hesitated, then said, “He tell me to be careful with you too. That you are only interested in one thing.”
In the dark car, I could see Micah’s cheeks darken. “Yeah. I’m not surprised. It’s fine.”
I didn’t think it was fine. I think it hurt him. Once again, the people he loved didn’t know him, and that had to sting.
Micah said nothing as I pulled into the spot near his place, and when I moved to turn the car off, his hand darted out, and he grabbed my arm. “Thanks for the ride. Catch you around?”
“Micah—”
“Please don’t walk me in.” He let go and grabbed his cane, slamming the door behind him as he began to hurry away.
It only took me a second to realize that his bag was in the back, so I shut the car off and grabbed it, racing after him. “Micah! You forget your—” My words died when his front door came into view, and the moment I saw it, without thinking, I dove at him.
He was moving slower than me, so I had caught up to him, and he let out a sharp cry as I tackled him to the ground.
“Vanya! What the fuck are you doing—”
“Quiet,” I snapped. He obeyed like he was born to do it. I shifted my weight off him, my eyes on his door, which was sitting partly open. I let out a breath as I gathered him close to me. “Your front door is open. There is someone there.”
For a brief, hopeful moment, I thought maybe he was going to tell me that he knew. That a friend was waiting for him. But instead, he froze, and then he began to shake.
“What do you mean it’s open?” His voice trembled in the back of his throat, and I held him tighter as I rose to my feet, taking him with me.
“Not a lot,” I told him. “But…is small crack like…” I took his hand and spread his fingers to show him the distance.
He turned his face into my chest and then let out a muffled, tattered scream. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
“Is him, yes? The stalker?”
“Hunter,” he spat as he pulled back.
I winced at the sound of his name. It was such a nice name. So…human, but I didn’t want to think of someone who could do this to Micah the same way as I thought about myself, or his friends, or him.
No. This man was a fucking monster.
“We need to call police—”
“Just,” Micah said, holding up a hand. He licked his lips, then reached for my arm and squeezed it. “Just wait. Maybe I should go inside and see if he’s there.”
“That is bad idea. Very bad idea. He could have a knife or a gun or a machete—”
“Oh my god, he doesn’t carry a fucking machete,” Micah said. “He’s just a dickhead who’s trying to make my life harder.”
I wanted to believe that, but how could I trust a man willing to go this far? There was something wrong with him that he could torment Micah this way.
It would be one thing if they were playing a cute game of horny cat and mouse who wanted to fuck. But the man had hurt Micah. Assaulted him. Refused to take no for an answer, and that’s what I knew without any details.
I was afraid to know the whole story because it would be worse.
And now Micah wanted me to believe this was harmless?
“I will go first.”
“Vanya—”
“No. Not to be dickhead. I promise. But I can see, okay? I can see if he’s inside. You can handle after we know.”
He tightened his jaw, but after a beat, he gave me a sharp nod and moved his grip to the back of my arm. I walked slowly, as quietly and carefully as I could, and when I pushed the door open, the room was empty.
There was a soft glow that was coming from several lit candles on the coffee table, and I could see a note sitting next to it. It was handwritten, so clearly it was meant to either be hidden in plain sight or cause Micah a sense of helplessness.
The fucker.
“Well?” Micah demanded.
“I don’t see him here. We need to check the rest of the house,” I said.
Micah’s steps faltered a little as we pushed further into his place, his breathing hitching every time we entered a new room. But everything seemed in order.
Everything was untouched.
Until we got to the kitchen.