Micah let out a frustrated laugh and then buried his head against my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured because I knew I was the source of his frustration. “My family says I’m always trying to fix things for other people. I guess sometimes it’s too much.”
“It’s amazing,” Micah said softly before he lifted his eyes. “You’re amazing, Con.”
His hand came up to skim the back of my neck. Delicious sparks of energy danced up and down my spine at the contact. I nearly leaned in to claim his mouth when Micah dropped his eyes again, a sure sign he wasn’t finished with what he needed to say.
“I blamed you for what happened to me when I was a kid because I needed someone to blame. Someone I could safely fight back against, even if it was in my own head. I couldn’t stop Ricky, I couldn’t fight Barry or any of the other guys off, but I could hate you. I could blame you. But the truth is that I was terrified the checks would stop coming. I used you in so many ways you don’t even know about, Con. And then one day I turn around and there you are again and you’re beautiful and sweet and caring and worried and kind and…” Micah let a soft smile grace his lips. “You saved us, Con. So the next time you look in a mirror and you don’t like what you see, remember that.”
Micah’s hand shifted from my neck to my cheek. He held my gaze for a long time before releasing his hold on me and stepping back. But I didn’t let him get far before I snagged my arm around his waist and drew him forward until he was once again pressed against my chest. I liked that his arms automatically went around my neck and when I leaned down to seal my mouth over his, he didn’t hesitate in kissing me back.
I forced myself to keep the kiss short in deference to the kids being close by, not to mention the whole “friends” thing, but damn, was it hard to let him go. “Thank you,” I said softly because while his words had been hard to hear, I’d needed to hear them. It was still difficult to accept that I’d saved Micah in any kind of way, but I couldn’t figure out any reason he’d lie to me.
Micah pressed a soft kiss to my lips and then stepped back again. When he reached his good hand out, I took it without hesitation and followed him down the path toward the sound of laughter and splashing water. But it wasn’t until Micah looked over his shoulder at me with a gentle smile on his mouth and a little bit of color staining his cheeks that I felt something inside me shift.
Hard.
And try as I might, it didn’t shift back. Not on the rest of the walk to the watering hole, not while I played with the kids in the water while Micah watched and laughed along onshore, and most certainly not by the time I laid my head down on the pillow that night in my too empty bed.
Chapter Eighteen
Micah
“Micah, sweetheart, wake up!”
Barry’s tight fingers fell away from my wrists and just like that he was gone, and I was blessedly spared.
Saved.
“Micah, open your eyes.”
My eyes? Weren’t they already open? I looked around and took in the sight of the small storage room with the dirty brown walls and thick, crunchy-in-spots carpet. Barry was gone, thank God, but Ricky wasn’t. He was standing in the doorway, belt in hand.
“No,” I whispered as I moved into the corner of the room. There wasn’t much space between the twin-sized bed and the wall, but if I pulled myself into a ball, I could protect most of my body from the blows. “I didn’t do anything,” I sputtered as I took another step back.
Just as Ricky took a step forward.
“Ricky, no, please…”
“Damn it, Micah, wake up!”
I jolted awake at the rough command. Pain surged through my chest as I tried to suck in some much-needed air.
“I’ve got you,” I heard someone say.
No, not someone. I knew who it was. His voice was as etched into my brain as Ricky’s and Barry’s were. Only his was like a balm to my soul because I knew I was safe.
But knowing in my head that I was okay and trying to tell my body that were two different things.
“Christopher, get him some water, please,” Con said gently and then I heard footsteps rushing away.
“Is Uncle Micah okay?” Rory asked, her voice full of fear. My niece was a heavy sleeper so whatever sounds I’d made during the nightmare had to have been pretty bad to wake her.
“Yeah, he is, honey. Just a bad dream,” Con murmured. I was pressed against his chest with one of his strong arms wrapped around my back. A moment later, small arms were closing around my neck.