Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I got it. I got my confession.
I stare at the wall across from the bed, waiting for the exultant feeling to hit me. The big win that’s supposed to come from playing the moves ahead of someone else.
Instead, all I feel is Micah’s hand in mine, his warm, strong fingers between mine.
I figured out Micah was snooping. The tracker was new.
You were right. You were right! The thoughts buzz in my head, but that’s all they do: buzz.
There’s no fizzing over, because something is still off.
I got my confession, but where is the yelling?
The fighting? Why is he just sitting here, holding my hand?
Telling me he stopped because I…asked him to?
The concept is almost laughable. No one just stops.
And yet, Micah still just sits here.
I want him to do something. Get mad for suspecting him.
Micah gently squeezes my hand, just slightly enough that I’m not sure he did it on purpose. I glance over at him, and he doesn’t look at me, but there’s a shy smile on his face. Almost like he’s genuinely happy.
Fuck, this man is infuriating. And…hot. His blush lips stand out against his fair skin. Lips that I’ve kissed. Lips that were wrapped around my dick.
Fuck.
I drop my eyes from his face, down to the hand that’s gripping mine. The way his veins push up softly against his hand. A hand that’s never hit me. Never thrown something at me.
Suddenly, staring at him, I wonder something else. What if Micah is playing a game, but it’s just a different game than I’ve been playing? What if he’s not perfectly nice, but he’s still nice, just playing a different game? Like one where he isn’t trying to hurt me?
My first instinct is to snort. How boring. Why would he do that?
And yet…
I stare at where our hands are clasped. We’re holding hands like in the movies. Just for us. He’s not trying to show off to anyone else. Not trying to lay claim on me. Not squeezing too hard. Just…holding hands.
Fuck. What if the game he’s playing has been…trying to go out with me? Like, to get to know me. Like in the movies. Like in a happy way.
For a traitorous second, my chest feels…warm. It’s like sitting in a bath with the perfect temperature. Like comfort.
Fuck.
My eyes feel warm too. Hot even. Like I’m going to cry.
What is this feeling? It feels nice. Feels comforting. Like coming home. And fuck, I like it.
Oh god, I like it. I feel like crying, but for different reasons, because fuck I can’t get used to this feeling. This isn’t a feeling I’m allowed to keep. The closest I’ve gotten is with my pets. Maybe with Arthur in the beginning, but even that didn’t feel like this. This feels…safe.
Fuck, my vision gets watery. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t cry. Quick, I need to save this.
“A curse, huh?” I croak out. “What, you open a tomb you weren’t supposed to?”
After a second, Micah turns to me, shocked. “First of all, I would never.” He widens his eyes comically large. “Second, what is your obsession with human bodies?”
I snort.
Micah nods his head. “It’s okay, your deepest darkest secret is safe with me.”
I shake my head, then sober. Because my secret is much worse than that. Because I think I’ve been an asshole to someone who doesn’t deserve it this whole time.
Fuck. I’m too damaged for this.
And yet for some reason, I keep my hand in Micah’s, despite the swirling guilt that’s saying that I don’t deserve it and the fear that’s screaming that I’m still in danger.
Am I though?
I mean, yeah. Arthur is out there, pissed, I’m sure. Which just makes me angry. Even now, Arthur is ruining things for me, and he isn’t even trying.
And yet Princess is a warm, comforting weight on my lap, and despite myself, I sink back into the comfort of the bed and the easy silence between us.
And in that silence, I find a moment of…
relaxation for the first time in…fuck, a long time.
Is that what this is? I don’t want to get up.
I want to stay here just for now, until the desire to escape gets the better of me.
Maybe I could just stay here? The thought makes me sink even deeper into the cushions.
No, what am I thinking? I need my phone. What if my boss needs to call about Mr. Parker?
I sit up and put my hand over Princess, hesitating. I think my phone is in the pocket of my jeans, which are currently lying on the floor in the bathroom.
“You good?” Micah sits up with me.
“I just…” I’m about to say I don’t want to intrude, but the adoring look he’s giving me says that would crush him. Micah wants me here. “I was gonna get my phone,” I finish.
“Oh, I’ll get it!” He hops out of bed and is gone before I can argue. He comes back with not only my phone, but a bottle of water, nodding at Princess. “Since he’s probably gonna keep you there all night.”
“Oh is he?”
“He’s a benevolent dictator. He’ll let you consider rolling over approximately once.”
“Consider?”
“Oh yeah, don’t dream of actually doing it.” Micah slips back into bed, and I can’t help but notice his sexy, tattooed waist wrapped up in the towel.
It makes my mouth water.
He dips lower than me on the sheets and I have the forbidden impulse to wrap my arm around his shoulders.
“I’m sorry, little M&M, you’re stuck there. Nothing I can do to help.” Micah looks up and gives me a mischievous grin. When I raise a doubtful eyebrow, he schools his face. “T’would risk my life. Please, remain there until his highness removes himself.”
I shake my head, suppressing something that feels an awful lot like a smile.
But…I’m not mad about it. I mean, I am, but for the first time, that anxiety is warring with something warmer. Something that tells me to sink into the sheets. To get closer to him.
If only Mr. Parker hadn’t passed, this moment might feel better. Maybe I should check and see if I have any missed calls from my boss.
I flip my phone over to see a bunch of text messages from an unsaved number. My stomach jumps into my chest, and I scan them.
Unknown: I know what you did.
Unknown: You were late! You could have saved him.
Unknown: You know, I could have your LICENSE for this.
I stop breathing.
Unknown: You always knew congestive heart failure was the way to get under my skin. Jared wasn’t enough? My dad wasn’t enough? You wanted this one, too? You fucking killed him!
Unknown: You think a fucking Venmo is enough for what you did? You ruined my life, Mad Mads. You called the cops on me, you fucking idiot. You left me with this house, knowing damn well I can’t afford it.
Unknown: And now you’re with some fucking twink? I always knew you liked Jared. You were probably cheating the whole time.
Unknown: Till death do us part, motherfucker. Does that mean nothing to you?
Unknown: You owe me more for the house at least.
My heart races, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I suck in a deep breath and hold it, my mind racing. Arthur is coming after me. Because of course he is. I knew I could never be happy. I’ll never be safe, and I was an idiot to think I could be.
The room starts to spiral and get dark. Did Micah turn off all the lights?
I suck in a breath. No, I can’t lose it right now. I can’t. I don’t want to. Keep it together, Maddox. Keep it together.
But the harder I try, the more I just think about how Arthur has snuck into every area of my life, even when he’s not around. How I’ve been playing according to his game rules ever since I left him, almost making it feel like I never left him at all.
What if there are other games out there? With other rules? And what if Micah’s playing one of those? One where he isn’t trying to hurt me at all?
Micah.
Fuck. What will Arthur do to Micah?
And overwhelming terror rushes through my body, freezing my limbs.
Then, Princess shifts on my lap. He gets up, stretching, and all the weight centers in his four paws on my thighs.
After a little tremor, he circles and settles back down, his presence a warm weight on me.
He tucks his head under his tail and lets out a deep breath.
What will Arthur do to Princess?
Micah holds his phone out to me, and there’s a funny skunk meme that says, “Act like a punk, you get the skunk.” He laughs, going back to his phone.
I suck in a deep breath, and there’s a melancholy tightness in my chest. I don’t want to put Micah at risk. Hell, he’s already at risk. Both of them are.
My first instinct is to run. To run like I did before. To where, I’m not sure. Anywhere that keeps Micah and Princess out of this.
Then, I realize that they’ll always be in this. Arthur will go after them just on principle.
So, I fight.
The thought must be fueled by alcohol because I feel sick. Fighting Arthur? Since when does that ever work? I tried to get him charged once. It nearly killed me.
I glance up and around the room, gaze catching on the gun Micah has over his dresser.
Will it get me killed? I have a gun now. I know how to shoot it. At least a little.
The thought makes me sit up straighter. Yeah, I don’t need to run. I did nothing wrong. I paid Arthur back. Plus, he can’t come after my job. I did nothing wrong. Patients die all the time. Mr. Parker was dead long before I got there, and the autopsy will show that.
I raise my phone up to type a reply. My hands shake as all kinds of emotions fill me just like they used to. Adrenaline, fear, pain. And I breathe with the pattern of Princess’ snoring. In and out. In and long out.
Then I reply.
Me: I don’t want to talk to you. Contact me again, and I’ll call the cops.
With shaking hands, I power my phone down. For a minute, it feels like my breath is going to rip out of my chest. Oh my god, what did I just do? I fucked everything up. I totally fucked up. My thighs tighten, and I squeeze the phone so hard it almost dents into my hands.
Princess’ snoring breaks through my thoughts. He sounds like he’s shuffling a tiny deck of cards from where his nose is pressed into my leg. In and out. Shuffle, shuffle.
I try to breathe to match his cadence. I need more though. Need…Micah.
I stretch my arms above my head. They shake as I put them back down, one over Micah’s head.
He peeks up at me, eyes joyful. Then he scooches up until his head is over my bicep. I expect to shy away. Instead, the weight grounds me and I feel…okay.
“I…can I touch you?”
I swallow. As I do, my thighs start to relax, and familiar anger creeps back in.
Fuck Arthur. Fuck him and the hold he’s had on my life. I’m done. I mean it, I’ll report him if he keeps trying to contact me.
Micah’s face falls a fraction and it makes my gut twist. I don’t like to see him upset. And in this moment I peek past all the rules Arthur set up around my life. Is there a whole world out there other than this?
What if I want to play a different game?
“Yes.” My voice comes out raspy. Micah’s eyes light up, and he puts his hand up to cup the back of my head. He smiles at me and fuck, if this moment doesn’t make me wish I could start over from scratch. Start over with the idea that maybe, just maybe everything could be okay.