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***
Damage Control is closed and dark. So I climb back into the cab and head for his apartment. I ring all the bells until someone lets me into the building, but when I go up, nobody answers the door at his apartment. I bang on it a few times, but I know it’s useless. He’s not here.
The reality of the situation hits me hard. Blake is seriously disturbed. He hurt Seth, and he said he hurt Micah.
I bend over, swallowing down nausea. Crap. Micah is lying somewhere, hurt, and I don’t even have the number of any of his friends to call.
Slowly I straighten. Think, Ev.
We were supposed to meet here, at his apartment, right after he finished work. If he was jumped, it must be on the way here. So what I need to do is walk back toward Damage Control and find him.
I hurry down the street, trying to orientate myself as cars roll by, headlights flashing. Cold rain is falling, the drops stinging my face like needles. Fear pumps my blood faster through my veins, lifting the exhaustion off me. What a day from hell.
I start to run. My knee sends warning twinges up my leg, but I ignore them as I turn the corner and start up another street, gauging it’s more or less in the right direction. Running helps me focus and keeps the tears at bay.
No time for crying now.
“Micah!” I yell as I run. “Micah, where are you?”
I don’t see him until I’m almost on top of him. He’s half-hidden in shadows, sitting on the sidewalk, legs stretched out, his back to the façade of a building.
I drop to my knees, but I have no voice to talk. I bend over, panting harshly, and look into his face.
His eyes are half-open, blue peeking through. “Ev?” he mumbles.
“How badly are you hurt?” His face is bruised, his upper lip split. Blood coats his chin and neck. “Shit.”
“I’m okay,” he says.
“Yeah? Is that why you’re sitting on the sidewalk on the frigging street? I—” My voice breaks and I swallow hard. Tears roll down my cheeks, mingling with the rain.
He gives me a crooked grin. “I’m just taking a breather.”
“A breather.” I laugh through the tears. “Holy crap, Micah.” I fumble for my cell. “I’m calling an ambulance.”
“No.” He puts his hand over mine. His knuckles are bleeding. “I’ll be fine.”
“Fine. Why you don’t answer your cell?”
“Broke it. New record.” He looks morose for a moment. “Will you just help me up?”
I nod, and the tears keep slipping down my cheeks. “I did this. Because of me, both you and Seth were hurt. I can’t—”
“You saved my life.” He strokes my wet cheek. “Then and now again.”
“It was you,” I say, because I want to hear it from him. “Back then, months ago. The guy with pneumonia.”
“Legionnaires’ Disease. An infection I got from the last facility. If not for you, I’d surely be dead by now.”
“But you still have a cough. Are you still sick?”
“It’s just an after effect. It will go away eventually.”
“It was you.” I shake my head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were afraid of Seth, and I thought you’d be afraid of me, too.” He shifts and winces. “Didn’t want that to happen.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” I manage a shaky smile. “I love you. I’m so glad I didn’t lose you.”
