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Since Day One
MEGAN
Lars checks Mickey’s pulse and then shakes his head. “Still breathing.”
Parker cocks his gun and points it at Mickey’s head, “You want me to kill him?”
I’m tempted to say yes after what the man just tried to do to me, but I shake my head, mutely. I’ve seen enough violence this week to last me a lifetime. Parker almost looks disappointed before putting his gun away.
“Take care of this,” Mr. Middleton orders before turning his attention to me. “Did he touch you?”
“No,” I mutter, unwilling to move away from his embrace but forcing myself to. My heart is racing so wildly that I feel a little sick.
I hunch down, trying to breathe past the sudden wave of crippling nausea, and I hear the alarm in his voice, “What’s wrong, Megan?”
I shake my head, waving at him with my hand. “It’s fine. Just give me a moment.”
However, to my surprise, he crouches down next to me and rubs his hand along my back. “Take slow breaths. In and out.”
I listen and realize that my hands are still quivering. Finally, when I feel a bit more like myself, I look at him and ask, “Why were you here?”
My question has him frowning. “You haven’t come to work or gone to school in a week.”
I sigh at the last part.
“You’re checking my attendance at school?”
“No one at the university is breaking any privacy laws by telling me your business. I simply put Parker on in. He hasn’t seen you on campus all week, and I thought you might’ve meant it when you said you would quit.”
He helps me stand, and I study him. “So, you came here to do what? Drag me to work?”
Mr. Middleton shrugs but he doesn’t meet my eyes. “To remind you that you have a contract with me for two years.”
I get a strong feeling that he’s not being entirely honest although I know that usually, he is, sometimes brutally so. However, I’m just grateful that he was here to help me...again.
“I was going to come back,” I admit to him. “It’s just the bruises – I couldn’t hide them, even under theatrical makeup. They’re a little better now. I’ll come back to work tomorrow.”
I glance towards my apartment window and hesitate. I don’t want to go back inside. Although I know that Mickey is no longer a threat, I don’t want to head in there by myself. Of course, there’s no place else I can go.
Crap, how am I supposed to continue living here knowing what my landlord just tried to do. I cringe at the thought of what he might have gotten away with if Mr. Middleton hadn’t been looking out for me as usual.
“Go pack up your essentials,” Mr. Middleton orders as if he can read my thoughts.
“What?” I look up and into his expressive, stormy eyes.
He lifts a brow. “I’m not letting you stay here after what happened. Pack what you need, and I’ll arrange a place for you. A safe one.”
“But-“
“You don’t have to fight every battle, Megan. Life will wear you down if you keep fighting everything that comes at you. Let me help.”
There’s no mocking edge to his voice this time, and I lower my gaze, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. He really is trying to do something nice, but fighting is the only way I know how to survive.
“Go pack up what you need,” he repeats, and this time I do as he says.
There’s not much I own that has any value except my art supplies and a framed picture of my mother. I don’t even remember her, but it’s nice to have a picture of a parent who might’ve loved you.
I quickly pack my art supplies, toiletries, and clothing, and when I enter the living room, I see Mr. Middleton looking into the cardboard box containing the Ramen noodles.
