“Mick.”
The hiss halted Michael the way I used to be able to. My eyes stayed glued ahead as Omar reached out for me, but distance wouldn’t be enough to dull my instinct. When Omar tensed, I could see the way Michael must have shifted, could feel that something twisted had entered his skin. Though, one glance over my shoulder seemed to calm even that. Our eyes locked once more, and this time, I couldn’t look away.
His lips parted once, and when that truth wasn’t good enough for him, he settled on a second: “I can’t protect you if you go.”
“What if you were right?” The question tensed his jaw. “What if the thing I needed protection from was you?”
I’d never forget that awful moment. I’d never forget the way he looked when I broke him— and neither would Michael. Tugging my arm from his grip, I turned my attention towards the stranger who would lead me out the door. Even then, I knew it was wrong. This whole mess was wrong. It wasn’t meant to be a stranger who was supposed to lead me out of the house, who was supposed to put his body between me and the danger. It wasn’t right to feel as safe in a cop car as I used to feel in Michael’s arms.
Noneof this was right.
I could hardly hear the snarls that followed us out to the cruiser, the rage of something that I should have listened to since the beginning. I could hear the opening of the door as Omar led me forward, the smashing of furniture in the house we’d left behind. Then came the sounds I hated the most: the cries of betrayal, of anger, of a shattered soul. I couldn’t bring myself to look back to the house when Omar finally turned over the engine. I didn’t think I could survive knowing what it looked like.
I didn’t want to remember where he lived.
I didn’t want to rememberhim— not like this.
My eyes squeezed shut as the car started, and when that fear crept into my chest, a familiar warmth tried to drive it out. When discomfort gripped at my throat, my heart immediately tried to remember what it was like to have Michael’s arms around me, his lips on the crown of my head. The hole in my chest replayed the memories that, any other day, might have made me feel whole again. I could see the café we sat in the time I told him the story about my scars. I could hear the snide remarks when I first sat down with him, the snarls that came when he protected me in the dark. Most of all, it made me remember the first time he kissed me, the first time he made love to me.
And then, everything was gone.
When the hurt took over, my eyes snapped open. Sickness wouldn’t let me rest, and when tears welled in my eyes, I forced my attention out the window. I had no idea where we were. All I wanted anymore was to go home. An awful whine filled the car, and I focused my attention to the only thing that mattered.Home.I just needed to get home. I wouldn’t recognize the sound of my sobs until Omar opened the glove box in front of me, until he placed the box of Kleenex in my lap.
My chest tightened again. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’m sorry.”
I wasn’t strong enough to stop the sobs that came next, the tremble of my muscles that doubled me over. I couldn’t stop the guttural cry that came when that ache tore through my side. If only for a moment, I could see why Michael had depended on him, why he had worked with him. When hot tears poured down my face, Omar didn’t try to stop me. When I sobbed out mumbled apologies, the only response he was capable of was a gentle rub against my back. The only thing that forced him to speak was a love Michael didn’t deserve— one Omar and I never should have given the monster.
“He’s my friend, Bridget.” Another sob filled the car, another grunt of pain. His hand rubbed against my back as we drove. “I know he did something wrong, but he’s—”
“I know.”
“When they question you, I need you to lie. I don’t care what you tell them, but if you tell the truth, we’ll both lose everything.” His hand froze, refusing to move until I gave the slightest nod of understanding. “I need you to lie for him.”
I wouldn’t respond. I wouldn’t have to. The second the cop saw me in that house, I think he knew the answer to the request. I wanted to swear up and down that I wouldn’t lie for Michael again, that someone who would lie to me wasn’t worth the effort that came with breaking my every rule, but we both knew the truth. I would always protect the man who hurt me the most.
I’d lie for Michael because I didn’t know anything else.
I loved him— even if he didn’t deserve it.