Page 66 of Mercy & Malice

Micah stays near the bedroom door, turning his back to me as I remove my shirt. He won’t even look at me when I’m undressed.

Stepping behind him, I trail my fingers along the top of his jeans and move in front of him. His eyes immediately drop to my rib cage, darting away as he winces.

He’s looking anywhere but at my body. The very one he’d beg to undress and devour before. Now I’m damaged. “You can’t even look at me anymore.” I try to keep my voice steady, but my words break as I drop my arms to my sides. To him, I’m ruined. Nothing between us will ever be remotely normal again.

I go to walk away but his hand catches my wrist. When I finally look at him, he’s studying the brand on my rib cage as he chokes out, “I don’t want to see what I did to you. It makes me so fucking sick.”

“So I make you sick now. That makes sense on why you can barely look at me or touch me. Why you’re determined to pull away from me.” I take in a shaky breath, attempting to steady myself before I confess my biggest fear. “Why you’ll eventually disappear again completely and never come back.”

His palm presses against my side, his thumb stroking near the mark. “You’re never going to trust me again. He made sure of it.” When he finally meets my eyes, he asks, “How can you not look at me like a monster after this?”

I see anything but a monster standing before me. “I scarred you too. Do you blame me?”

Micah breaks eye contact as he rasps, “It’s different.”

“Totally,” I reply sarcastically moving away from him. “The same rules have never applied to you.” I aim to maintain the same sarcastic tone, but my voice breaks as I swallow a sob down.

“I need to fix this. But there’s no way to do that. All the horror will still be in your head and the marks on your body … Nothing will undo it.” He’s yelling by the last word. But I just can’t seem to bring myself to yell back.

Instead, I speak calmly. “I’m not broken, Micah. I’m alive, I’m here, and so are you. So stop searching for excuses to push me away. If I gross you out now, I get it. But just be honest with me for once.”

He says, “All I want is you. Don’t ever say that shit again.”

“Then stop treating me like I’m a fragile object that’s going to break or an old toy that’s ruined.”

As I climb into bed, he’s suddenly behind me, turning me to face him. His fingers clasp my neck, tightening gently as his mouth hovers over mine. His stare locking me in place. “You were always too good for me. You deserve so much better. Someone who will make you happy and be what you need, everything I’m not.”

I hate that he actually believes that. Because it’s the biggest lie yet. “That’s not true. We’re meant for each other. We belong together. I’ve never considered otherwise and refuse to do so.” I make another confession. “That’s why I’ve never slept with anyone else. Never even kissed anyone else, because it’s only ever been you that I want to be with.”

His silence is killing me, making me wonder if I’m alone in this feeling. Even though I’m afraid to ask, I have to know. “What about you? Have you been with anyone else?” He did disappear and had plenty opportunity. And it would’ve been a way he could get back at me. I’d understand because he’d been so angry at me. Maybe that’s a lie … I might break if he admits he’s had sex, but it’s not like we had a pact or something.

Micah finally says, “No. I’ve only ever been yours.”

He closes the distance, finally bringing his lips to mine. As he kisses me, I lie back, pulling him with me. My hand moves between us and before I even reach his waistband, he grips my wrist, stopping me. “Not like this.”

I stare at him, noting the swift way his chest rises and falls with his breath. The hard bulge that is pressed against me is a clear indication that he wants me just like I want him. We can finally be together. So why is he stopping this? “What the heck do you mean not like this?”

“Having sex won’t make the past go away. And I don’t want you to only because you’re trying to get everything out of your head or numb yourself. It won’t change what happened.”

I get what he’s saying and agree. But I’m mad and maybe hurt and feel rejected. I’ll be marked and damaged for the rest of my life. “No shit. This isn’t about erasing the past. At least now I know you don’t want to sleep with me like this. Whatever the hell that means.”

Yes, I’m pouting. And can’t seem to stop as I get out from beneath him and slide under the covers. I worry for a second that he will leave. But he doesn’t, and I’m relieved when he snuggles up behind me. His chest against my back. He presses a soft kiss to my shoulder as he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

I’m not sure I believe that anymore either.

35

BROOKE

So much for freaking normalcy. Even hours into my shift at Sweet Fleur, it’s clear nothing is as it should be. The biggest indication is Micah sitting at a table with Luca, Ivy, and Cain while Troy sits at one near the entrance, his eyes constantly scanning. Thankfully, we’ve had a steady Friday night crowd, and I’ve been able to stay busy. But now it’s winding down and I feel more suffocated and restless than ever.

Another factor is Edmund being here. He’s very much an active and involved business owner, but he’s never joined me for a late-night shift like this. He smiles as he approaches. “Howdy, howdy, Brooke.” There’s a flicker of unease in his posture when he asks, “How’s everything going? We haven’t gotten a chance to chat much, but I’m glad to see you safe and to have you back. Though, if you need more time off, it’s not a problem at all. Holden has been wanting more hours because he’s saving up for his LSU fun fund.”

Edmund’s son is a grade level behind me.

“Trust me, I get it. Some extra spending money is always nice.”

He glances over at my bodyguards. “Your friends seem like they like this place a lot.”