Chapter 4: One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love Sophocles

Sophia

              It took a bit of convincing to get Darren from filing charges against Micah. I felt so bad when I saw the dark bruises on his neck. Micah, on the other hand, did not seem the least bit remorseful. He simply narrowed his eyes in Darren’s direction as if daring him to do something. Thankfully, Darren was reasonable enough to understand that Micah was just protecting me like a big brother would. A bitter taste settles in my mouth at the thought of Micah being my brother, albeit a stepbrother, considering how unsisterly I feel toward him.

              I can’t believe that he saw me naked. A part of me takes great satisfaction in the fact that he caught me frolicking around the pool. And the bonus was that Darren was there. The rage in his eyes at the sight of Darren was intoxicating. Not to mention the look on his face when he got a good look at my bare body. I had never felt so much power and vindication at the same time. A zing of electricity rushes through me at the thought of how his eyes roamed over my body with a hungry, possessive surety. Every part of my body stood up in attention. I know that it’s just a man’s natural reaction to seeing an attractive woman. But I’d like to imagine that he felt what I did at that moment.

              Once Darren drives away in his little Honda Civic, Micah ushers me toward his black Camaro. “Nice car,” I say, looking at my image across the clear, polished surface. He merely grunts as he opens the door and waits impatiently for me to get in. I’m wearing my pink halter dress beneath his suit jacket, so I have to raise the hem up to adjust my legs. A quiet gasp escapes Micah’s mouth at the sight of my bare thighs, but I pretend not to hear it. Shivering with desire and the crisp night air, I observe as Micah slams the door gruffly and moves to the driver’s seat to start the car.

              The silence is almost deafening as we both get lost in our own thoughts. Trying to establish some camaraderie, I turn from the window and gaze at his profile. His thick eyebrows are down in concentration, and his jaw is clenched. He’s gorgeous with his patriarchal nose and firm lips that make desire tighten in my belly. His emerald eyes are locked intently on the road ahead, and he has a bit of stubble on his jaw, which makes him look sexy and rugged. My legs shift uncomfortably at the thought of him rubbing his five o’clock shadow over my bare thighs.

              His large, scarred hands tighten over the steering wheel with concentration. He looks like a badass as he maneuvers the vehicle through traffic. He looks like James Bond or that Transporter guy from the movie, with his black suit and snowy white dress shirt with its open collar. What Micah does for a living has been somewhat of an enigma to me. Chelsea says that he works for the government, but she really doesn’t know in what capacity. Wanting to probe a little, I cross my legs and shift my body in his direction. “So why are you down here anyway? Don’t you live in Manhattan?”

              At first, I don’t think he’s going to answer me because his gaze is glued to the windshield. But then he swallows deeply and responds. “I had a business meeting several miles away.” I stifle a frustrated sigh when he doesn’t elaborate. I have forgotten how infuriatingly cryptic he can sometimes be. He is so serious and unruffled that it makes me want to rile him up. So I do. “This guy I hooked up with a while back lives in Manhattan. He had this really luxurious penthouse suite with large windows. Oh, and his bed was huge.” I say with a sensual shudder. Which is all for show. I mean, I did hook up with the guy, but his apartment was a lot more impressive than his bedroom skills. Micah doesn’t need to know that, though. Micah’s shoulders tense, and his eyes snap angrily toward mine.

              “Just exactly how many men have you been with?” He spits out angrily. I shrug my shoulders with a snicker. “Now, now, Micah. You know it’s uncouth to kiss and tell.” I can hear the sound of him gritting his teeth as he faces forward again. His nostrils flare, and his hands stiffen over the steering wheel with anger. “I love Manhattan,” I say with a kittenish mewl. “There are so many hot nightclubs and restaurants. There’s this really hot nightclub that Darren takes me to. They have these private rooms that are blocked off by curtains. Darren and I love hanging out in them.”

              If I wanted a reaction, I instantly get it when Micah slams his fist over the steering wheel and gives me a killing glare. I can see the anger vibrating through his tightly coiled body, and the steering wheel bends a little under his strength. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not hear about your sexual escapades with that douche. As a matter of fact, I suggest you keep comments about him to yourself.”

              My heart speeds up at his impassioned words. He looks so ferocious, which makes no sense to me because he doesn’t want me. Why should it matter to him? “What does it matter, Micah? Darren is my boyfriend.” Micah clenches his jaw and inhales roughly, which incites my anger. “Are you going to answer me or what? What does it matter to you if Darren and I are having sex? It’s not like I’m not going to see him…”

              My body jolts from its seatbelt roughly as Micah slams down on the breaks and puts the car in park. Thankfully, we’re on a small, rural road that leads to the freeway, so there are no other cars around. Micah slips out of his seat without another word and walks toward the passenger’s door to open it. I give him a wary look as he unbuckles my seatbelt and roughly lifts me from my seat. “What the hell, Micah!” I screech out as he slams the door shut and pushes me back onto it. His face is harsh and tight like granite as he leans close and grits out. “Don’t fuck with me, Sophia. I don’t have the time nor the patience to deal with your childish goading.”

              Our faces are nearly touching as we stand there. I can see the deep black irises surrounding the emerald glow of his eyes, and my body heats up at the sight of his firm lips. I want him to kiss me so badly I can almost taste it. He must see my intense stare because his body loosens, and his eyes hone in on my lips too. I swallow deeply and lick my lips. I don’t know how, but somehow we get a lot closer. The curves of my body are plastered against the harsh, rigid lines of his, and our mouths are mere inches apart. His breath mingles with mine, and the hard bulge of his cock strains inside of his jeans. My folds quiver as a gush of moisture gather between my thighs.

              Micah tilts his head, never taking his eyes off mine. It makes me feel vulnerable, as if he can see through me and strip me of my armor, revealing all of my secrets. It’s disconcerting. Leaning his forehead against mine, he places a soft kiss on my cheek and slides his hands under my jaw. “I know that I hurt you in the past, Sophia. And I’m really sorry about how I handled it. I can also see that you’re trying to get a reaction because you’re still pissed at me for what I said. But you have to understand that I do care about you. I just can’t be what you want. All I want is for you to be happy. But after seeing you give yourself to someone so obviously unworthy of you...” He raises my chin and lays another gentle kiss over my eyes before he rests his lips over my forehead. “Well, it’s disappointing.” He says with an upset sigh.

              My temper, which I had kept under a simmering boil until he mutters those words, erupts. Oh, this makes me see red. A volcano of rage explodes through me, making me push him away as hard as I can. “Fuck you, Micah! This has nothing to do with you. How conceited can you be?  To think that I’ve held onto the stupid crush for so many years. Well, you can set your mind at ease, Micah. Because I’m over it, and I’m over you. And as for my “childish goading.” I spit out, making exaggerated air quotes. “I’m not a child, and I don’t appreciate the implication. I just don’t like the tone you take when I talk about my boyfriend. And to call him a douche is really harsh. I care about Darren, and I plan on seeing him during the week. And if you have a problem with that, then maybe I should just go and stay at his frat house.”

              We both stand there like two gunslingers waiting for the fireworks to begin. Then after a moment, Micah exhales deeply and sifts his fingers through his hair. “Fine, I won’t get on your case again. You don’t need to stay at his place. Just…” He stops and moves closer. “Just don’t bring him up. That’s all I ask.” I nod my head, ignoring the ball of disappointment that coils inside me. I’m obviously nowhere near being over Micah. And something inside me did want him to be devastated because I’m with someone else. I guess I’m really messed up. But I will never tell him that. Wiping the tears that are threatening to slip away, I rub my hands up and down my face until I gain some control.  “Fine,” I whisper as I slide my fingers through the loose strands of my hair and slip back inside the car.

              Micah doesn’t get into the car right away. I watch for a moment as he paces in place and rubs the back of his neck in agitation. I wish I knew what he was thinking. My mouth trembles again as a sob threatens to fall from my lips, but I hold it in. I don’t want him to see how much he has hurt me. It’s just too humiliating.

              It takes about an hour to get to Manhattan from our parent’s house. The drive is quiet and tense, which makes me wonder if it’s preemptive of what it’s going to be like to live with him for the next two weeks. I jump out of the car as soon as he stops at a nearby gas station to fill up the tank. Micah looks grim when I pass him to go into the gas station’s store. “Where are you going?” He asks, slipping his credit card back in his wallet and places the pump’s hose in the car’s fuel tank. “I’m really thirsty. I’m getting a bottle of water. Do you want anything?” He shakes his head, then looks out into the crowded streets dismissively.

              As soon as I enter the store, several men stop in their tracks. One guy’s eyes actually bulge out of its sockets as soon as he gets a good look at me. Moving toward the freezers, I open up one of the doors and slip a water bottle from its slot. The water is nice and cold, with a drop of condensation slowly running down its neck. I grab a bag, Twizzlers on the way to the counter, and plop them down in front of the gaping clerk.

              The clerk is this tall skinny man with tattoos decorating his arms and several piercings decorating his eyebrows, ears, nose, and mouth.  “Hey, gorgeous.” He says with a sly smile. I smile back and lean my elbows on the counter flirtatiously. “Hey,” I whisper back.

              Living in New York, you have to get used to the brazenness of some of the men. Either that or move somewhere else. He leans down on the counter to copy my stance with a wolfish smile. I turn when I hear a low wolf whistle behind me and see two guys staring at my ass with appreciative grins. “Damn, girl, you’re fine!” One of them says. His friend high-fives him heartily like he did something extraordinary. Men.

              The clerk coughs to divert my attention back to him. “What can I do for you, sugar?” He says with a seductive smolder. I have to say, he’s pretty cute. I love guys with tattoos. It’s just something naughty about using your skin as an art tapestry. “How much?” I ask with a snippy tone. His smile widens, and he’s about to answer when the bell on the door dings and Micah appears. His eyes hone in on me right away, then center on the men behind me and the clerk. His expression instantly becomes glacial. You can almost see steam coming out of his ears. He’s definitely annoyed by the attention that I’m getting. And yes—I guess I am a little childish, and what I do next proves it. It just pisses me off that he’s so composed, and all I feel is my stomach twisting into knots at the mere sight of him.

              Ignoring his presence, I keep my eyes on the clerk and open the Twizzlers bag to take one out. The man’s eyes dilate with lust when I slip the Twizzler into my mouth and roll it around my tongue seductively. “Mm…I love Twizzlers,” I say huskily. The man’s smile turns predatory as he reaches over and runs his fingers over my covered forearm. “I got something else you’d love, babe. Just give me your number.” I’m about to respond when Micah takes a couple of menacing steps in our direction, drops a twenty on the counter, and grips me by the elbow. “Keep the change.” He growls out gruffly.

              What amazes me is that the man backs away quickly. “Yeah, sure, man. Cool.” The men behind me cry out in protest. “Don’t take her, dude. Leave her here.” If looks could kill, those men would be dead. The men become silent very quickly at the sight of Micah’s wrathful glare. It’s the craziest and hottest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s as if the men recognize him as alpha and respect his position. “Let’s go.” He mutters.

              We are making our way out of the convenience store, but unfortunately, we don’t make it very far when three masked men barrel into the store, bearing really large firearms. “EVERYBODY GET DOWN!” One of the men screams as he aims his deadly weapon toward us. Micah quickly pushes me behind the protection of his body and slowly backs us away from the counter. I had never been so frightened in my life. One of the other men aims a gun directly at Micah and yells with deadly assuredness. “I’M NOT GOING TO SAY IT AGAIN. GET THE FUCK DOWN!”

              Micah kneels down, never taking his eyes away from the man, and slides my body under his protectively.

              As I lie in the security of Micah’s arms, I watch as a masked man nears the clerk and aims his gun at his head. “GIVE ME EVERYTHING IN YOUR REGISTER AND IN YOUR SAFE!” The clerk nods his head, terrorized, and opens the register drawer. A small cry escapes my lips when the gunman knocks the clerk on the head to hurry him along.

              Micah kisses the top of my head gently and whispers in my ear. “It’s okay, Soph.” At first, I don’t know why he’s speaking to me that way. Then a tear rolls down my face, and I realize that I’m crying. Holding tightly to Micah’s forearm, I watch through blurry eyes as the clerk tries to open the safe. “HURRY THE FUCK UP, MAN!” The clerk’s body visibly trembles as he tries to enter the code, but it’s to no avail. After a moment, he gives the gunman a terrified look and whispers. “I can’t get in. The manager must have changed the code the last time he came.” The gunman swears again, then stills and mutters in a deadly tone. “Then I don’t need you.” And shoots him in the head.

I cry out helplessly as I watch the man’s body fall lifelessly to the floor, and a pool of blood accumulates around him. Bile threatens to choke me as I gaze into the clerk’s now lifeless eyes.

              Micah’s body stiffens over mine at the sound of the bullet’s recoil. I can hear the gunmen arguing amongst themselves about shooting the clerk. I get the feeling that it’s going to get really bad. Just then, a set of boots stop in front of Micah and me. I look up to find the gunman aiming his gun at Micah. “Well, Well, Well, what have we here? It looks like you have a little beauty under you. How about you let us get a good look at her.” Micah stiffens further and tightens her arms around me with a scowl. “Let her be; she’s frightened.”

The man tilts his head. All I could see are his hellishly dark eyes and thin lips from underneath the holes of the mask. “LET HER UP!” He says as he reaches down and drags me from under the protection of Micah’s arms. Micah rises with me and pulls me behind him to the gunman’s consternation. “Get your hands off her!” He says with a biting tone. It’s almost scary how pissed off he looks.

              The other gunmen stop what they’re doing and turn to circle Micah and me. I feel like a seal surrounded by sharks. Clinging to Micah’s shoulders, I take a couple of deep breaths. I’ve never been so scared in my life. All I can think of is that I need to keep it together. I’m a strong woman, and I’ve taken self-defense classes, but all of that training has gone out the window at the sight of those deadly guns. I shouldn’t be so freaked out, but I am.

              The gunman, who shot the clerk, moves closer to Micah and gazes at him intently. “Hand me the girl.” He says with a note of finality. But Micah is not intimidated by his bravado. Instead, he ignores his order and keeps me behind him.

              A sardonic snort escapes the man’s lips as he raises his gun and level’s it at Micah’s head. “So long then.” But to my astonishment, no shot is fired. Instead, the man falls forward, clutching his chest. I look over Micah’s shoulders to see a large blade protruding from the man’s chest, his blood gushing out like a fountain. All I can think is, where did that knife come from?

              Seeing their associate fall, the other men take action. Micah pulls back and shoves me behind some shelves before he turns back to one of the men to kick his gun from his hand, catches it mid-air and shoots the other gunman in the leg. The man falls forward with a cry as he grips his bleeding leg while I close my ears to block out the sound of his painful cry. Micah turns to the bleeding man and knees him in the face to quiet him. The other man he disarmed takes action and throws a punch at Micah’s face, but Micah dodges his strike and punches him in the stomach. I’m in shock at what I see at this point. If I said Micah was a badass earlier, I am more than assured now that he is. The man doesn’t even get a hit as Micah dodges and weaves, then punches him several times in his face, knocking him out.

              I look around to see that all of the gunmen are lying either dead or unconscious on the floor, then look back at Micah to meet his deathly cold eyes. Unable to help myself, I run into his arms and hold him close. At first, he doesn’t respond, but then he loosens up and embraces me back. “It’s okay, Soph. I’m fine.” He whispers as he removes his cell phone from his pocket and makes a call.

              The other men rise from their protective perch and give Micah a respectful nod.

              It doesn’t take long for the police to get there. To my surprise, they don’t question Micah or take him in for questioning. He simply pulls the top detective to the side and speaks to him. It was very disconcerting. One of the other detectives approaches me with concern in his eyes and hands me a napkin. “You have a little bit of blood on your neck.” He whispers gently. Taking the napkin, I wipe my neck hard. “Thanks.” The detective continues observing me, which I won’t lie; it makes me a little nervous.

              He’s a very good-looking man, with olive-colored skin, deep brown eyes, a nicely trimmed goatee, and a short tussled cut. He’s tall. About six feet with an athletic build. His body looks good encased beneath his fitted t-shirt and dark black jeans. I look at the badge swinging from the chain on his neck and bite my lip.

“Are you okay?” He asks me with this low husky voice. “Yeah,” I say as I pull some strands of hair out my face. My hand shakes as I lower it to my side and watch Micah talk to the other detective.

              The other officer holds his hand out and enfolds mine in his. “I’m Colin, by the way. Your boyfriend is a badass. But I’m sure you already knew that. He took on three armed men without breaking a sweat. Is he in the military?” He asks, pointing to where Micah is standing. I shake my head and wrap my arms around my shoulders to stave off the chill in my body. “I’m Sophia. And no, Micah is not my boyfriend. I think he used to be a Marine or something.”

              His smile widens at my response. “Ah, a Marine. That explains a lot.” Tightening my hands around Micah’s suit jacket, I shudder again, feeling the cold penetrated my bones. “You’re cold.” He asks, concerned. I nod my head. “I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I’m in a freezer.” Colin shakes his head. “You’re in shock. Let me get you something.” He says as he turns to a nearby paramedic and asks. “Yo, Dale! Hand me one of those warm blankets.” The paramedic’s eyebrows rise when he sees me. And without a word, he hands Colin a warm blanket. Colin unrolls the neatly folded, navy blue blanket and wraps it around my shoulders. “Here you go. This should warm you up.” He whispers kindly. I give him a grateful look and pull the blanket close. “Thanks.” He simply shrugs and places his hands in his pockets. “No problem Sophia.” He says as he removes a card from his pocket and extends it to me, “Here’s my information in case you ever need to talk or something.” I look at the card’s clean ivory surface and obsidian letters. Det. Colin Vane. Even his name is hot.               

              “We should go.” Micah stops in front of me and gives Colin a suspicious scowl. Colin tilts his head and extends his hand in welcome. “I’m Detective Colin Vane. Thank you for your help, Mr. St. Clair. I was just asking Sophia here if you were ever in the military because what you did was amazing.” Micah looks at his extended hand and begrudgingly engulfs it with his. “Call me, Micah. As to your question, yes, I was a Marine.”

              Both men nod in solidarity but do not disconnect their hands. I don’t know what to make of it. It’s almost as if they’re sending each other a silent message. They remind me of two powerful alpha wolves weighing each other for weaknesses.

              I tremble again, diverting the men’s attention back to me. I just can’t stop myself from shaking. Noticing my shaking form, Micah places his hand on my waist and pulls me into his arms. “Shit Sophia, you’re shaking.” He says with concern. “Let’s go home.” With a tired nod, I rest my head under his chin and wrap my arms around his waist. However, before we could turn, Colin steps in front of us and says. “I think she’s in shock. Make sure you take care of her when you get home. She has my number if you ever need anything.” Micah gives him a serious nod and pulls me closer. “I will.”

              Micah gently helps me into the front seat. I can tell that he’s worried about what just happened. The last thing I remember before I let the sweet oblivion of sleep overtake me is him laying a soft kiss on my head and closing the door.