“If anything, the firefly will ruin me.”
Aaryn chokes on her drink. “You gave her a fucking nickname?”
“So did you.”
“Except mine is because she’s flawless and gorgeous. What’s your excuse?”
“I don’t need one, you just said it. She’s flawless and gorgeous.” And sweet. And clueless about her beauty. And smart. And she has a sassy mouth on her I wish I could just kiss endlessly. Fuck… what the hell is wrong with me?
“Nuh-uh. Don’t give me that shit.” Aaryn’s knee knocks against mine. “Come on lover-boy, spill.”
“I don’t know.” I take a swig at my beer. “It’s like—I guess she kind of reminds me of home.”
Aaryn peers up at me, and by the expression on her face, I know she’s just as surprised as I am by my comment. She studies me, not saying a damn thing and it’s making me even more confused than I already am.
“Micah?”
I don’t realize I’m scanning the field for little bouncing light-bulbs until I feel her giving my hand a tight squeeze. I know very well I won’t find any, it’s still too early in the season for fireflies.
“She’s somewhere out there looking out for you.”
“It’s supposed to be the other way around,” I utter in a wistful whisper.
“I know.” She gets up and kisses the top of my head before climbing on the side-panel and hopping off the truck. “But we both know things don’t always happen the way they’re supposed to.”
My eyes follow her as she backs away from the pick-up and makes her way toward the garage door where our bikes are parked side-by-side.
“I mean, who knows, maybe she’s the one who sent you those two amazing people.”
I smile at the thought.
“Whatever happens, Micah… you call me, okay?”
“You’re talking as if you’re about to bail on me, Walker,” I reply, frowning. “Should I be worried?”
The sound of her laughter is off. It’s almost as if she’s forcing it out. “I think you tend to forget that I’m that habit you can’t get rid of. Just—just promise me you’ll call me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
She throws her right leg over her tank, straddling her ride, and—yep—still hard. “Promise?”
I nod. “Always.”
“Happy birthday, Micah.”
She’s gone before I can respond.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Micah
Present
“I know that face.” The displeasure in Aaryn’s tone doesn’t go unnoticed. “What does the little angel want?”
“Vince is awake.”
“So?”
I shoot her an annoyed glare. “It would be nice if you could at least pretend like you care.”
“I don’t do the pretending thing, Micah. You should know that by now.”
“Would you care if it was me waking up from a coma? Would you care if the doctors told you my legs were so fucked up that I could never walk again? Would you care if my unsteady heartbeat flatlined?”
The last question seems to hit her somewhere because the cold expression on her face melts away faster than an ice cube on a hot stove. “Micah—”
“Whatever it is that’s eating you up right now, bury it. I need this.”
Me: Are you still in ICU?
Firefly: No. He was moved to room 506 while we were um... You need to come up, Micah. Vincent keeps pressing me to call you. He says he needs to talk to you right now.
My jaw goes rigid. He heard. There’s no other reason why he would insist on me going up there if it wasn’t because he heard what I said before leaving the ICU.
Me: Does Vince’s room face the parking lot?
Firefly: Yes. Why? Are you outside? Just come up.
I hesitate for a second. I want to go. The need to see that he’s okay with my own eyes, the urge to hold her in my arms, they supersede my desire to keep my promise even if it’s just for a minute. But I know me. If I climb up those steps, I won’t be coming back down. I’ll end up staying and destroying the only people I love. Again.
Me: Aub, can you look out the window for me?
Firefly: What? Why?
Me: I don’t know, I just miss your face.
My phone rings. I stare at it a long time before picking it up, but I do because as usual when it comes to Aubrey Bankes, I lose all my sense of reason.
“If you miss my face just come up.” There’s a hint of amusement in her words, but the sound of her voice tells me it’s all pretend.
My head drops. “Baby, just come to the window, please.”
“Is that Micah?” Vince’s distant voice is weak, but just hearing it sends a wave a relief through me. “Tell him I want to talk to him.”
“He knows, I already told him.”
“Then give me the phone, Aubrey.”
“Don’t.” I hope she doesn’t hear the urgency in my tone. I can’t. I can’t talk to him. “Just come to the window.”
“Just give me a sec.”
I skim the fifth floor in search of her beautiful face and spot her as soon as she appears in the window. Her long hair is fanning over her bare shoulders and her puffy lips are nervously pinched in between her teeth as she gives the parking lot a quick scan.
Her blueish-green eyes pause on me for barely a second before her face disappears from the window.
I know she saw me, and from where I’m standing now, the only thing I can see is her arm and thigh as she leans against the frame. “Aub?”
“Yeah?”
“Look at me.”
Her body shifts ninety degrees, and slowly her eyes leave the base of the window to meet mine.
“Hey.”
The corner of her mouth curls into a sad smile. “Hey.”
I watch as her hand lifts to her cheek wiping off what I suppose is a tear, and my heart cracks. “Are you okay?”
“I’m—I don’t know. You?”
“No.”
“Micah.” Worry swirls in her whisper. “Please come upstairs.”
“Did I hurt you?” I already know the answer to my question, but I need her to hear herself admit it.
Her eyes lower and her fingers go to her neck, reaching for something that isn’t there. “No.”
The muscles in my jaw go rigid. Liar. “You promised me, Aubrey. You swore that you’d never let me hurt you.”
Silence.
“Aub.”
Her gaze lifts to meet mine, but neither one of us dares to say a word.
So many things can be said in a thick filled silence.
I love you.
I hate you.
I’m sorry.
I lied.
My head drops and I close my eyes. I can still feel Aubrey’s breath on my skin, hear her whisper in my ear, taste her tears on my lips. I can still picture her trembling hands flattening her dress and see her shaky fingers running through her messy hair before she headed toward the door of our little haven. I can still feel her pleading unspoken words and the longing look she gave me before walking out the door. I can still feel myself wanting to leap when her footsteps echoed down the hallway.
I turn the ignition.
“NO!” My eyes snap to Aubrey’s and she slams her palm against the glass.
One.
Two.
Three times.
“No, Micah, don’t you dare do this to me.”
I try to smile, try to reassure her, but she knows. She’s known all along that one day something like this would happen. I warned her.
“Hand me the fucking phone, Aubrey,” Vince yells behind her and the last thing I see before she disappears from the window are the tears pouring down her face.
“Dad, give me your keys.”
“Honey.” Vivian’s voice sounds more alive than it has in over twelve hours. It almost sounds like she’s scolding her daughter. “What in the world is going on with you?”
“Aubrey,” Vincent snaps.
His bellow is louder than ever. “Give me the damn phone.”
“Keys, Dad,” she beseeches, ignoring him. “Micah, don’t—” The distress in her voice causes a painful ache to rip through my chest, and I end the call.
Through the thick blur clouding my eyes, I stare at my phone. Tears. I snicker, shaking my head. I try to blink them away but the welling never stops.
I didn’t cry when my dad hit me.
I didn’t cry when I found out my mother left.
I didn’t cry when I’d got expelled from school or arrested for being an idiot.
I didn’t cry. Ever.
I suffered. I fought. I survived.
Until now.
Dropping my head, I watch the tears bounce off my tank.
One-by-one. Silent. Uncontrollable. Fucking painful.
And I deserve every damn affliction.
“Micah?” Aaryn whispers behind me.
I shake my head, asking her for a minute to gather my thoughts But I break. Every smile, every giggle, every kiss, every single memory hits me like I’ve just run into a brick wall at a hundred-and-twenty miles per hour.
“She was right there, Aaryn,” I whisper, choking on my words. I lift my head and closing my eyes, I silently curse at the sky. “Right fucking there…”
Eleven Years Ago
“Hey.” I don’t pay attention to her yelp as I plop myself on the sofa. “Mom and Dad just called, they said they’re going to be late and want you in bed by eight. What are you watching?”
“Tinker Bell’s Lost Treasures.” Her voice is muffled. I shift and notice she’s hiding under her comforter.
“Of course, you are.”
“It’s the best movie in the world, Micah.”
In the eyes of a five-year-old girl maybe. “Of course, it is.”
“It’s true.”
I chuckle. “Hey Lillie?”
“What?”
The blanket is wrapped so tightly around her I can’t even find a free corner to uncover her. I poke my little sister in the places I know she’s the most ticklish and her girlie giggles fill the room. “If this is the best movie in the world, why are you under your blanket and not watching it?”
“’Cause I’m scared.”
“Of Tinker Bell?”
“No,” she huffs. “Of the noise outside.”
Frowning, I stretch my neck out to look up the basement’s living room window. I see nothing but frost and darkness. “What kind of noise?”
“I dunno. Cars, shaking metal things, talking.”
I roll my eyes, wondering when my baby sister decided she was afraid of normal neighborhood noise. But then again, two weeks ago she wasn’t afraid of spiders and now the second she sees one, the whole damn street needs to know about it. “Tinker Bell isn’t afraid of noise.”
“Uh-huh she is. That’s why she keeps Blaze around. He lights things when it’s too dark so she doesn’t get scared.”
“She doesn’t want Blaze around, she’s annoyed by him. He sticks around and helps her find that moon-thing or whatever it’s called even though she’s mean to him.”
“Tink is not mean.”
“She has a temper.”
“You have a temper.”
I snort. “I bet you don’t even know what that means.”
“Nuh-huh.”
Shaking my head, I reach out to the table lamp and open the top drawer to grab the flashlight. “Blaze is the light that helps Tinker Bell discover what’s important in life. Thanks to him, she finds forgiveness, friendship, and love.”
“Blaze is soooo cute,” my sister informs me as if I’m not already aware of how much she loves him. I click the light on and off against the fabric and she gasps in amazement. “What’s that?”
Grinning, I zip the flashlight from one side of her manmade cocoon to another and she resurfaces from under the blanket. Her blonde hair is sticking out in every direction because of the static.
“Let me try.”
I smile at her adorable face. “Only if you come over here and sit beside me for the rest of the movie.”
A laughing squeal busts out of her and she throws herself at me. I give her the flashlight, and she settles herself in the crook of my arms.
“I really was scared, you know,” Lillie admits after a while.
“I know.” I squeeze her tight. “But don’t worry, I’m your big brother, it’s my job to keep you safe.”
“Promise?”
“Always.”
Present
I drop my phone to the ground and smash the screen. “We need to go.”
Aaryn parks her ride parallel to mine. The engine of her CBR is on idle, running in sync with my Ducati and it’s a sound that’s more soothing than I care to admit. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
I don’t. All I know is that this is the best decision I’m making for Aubrey, and that’s all that counts.
She watches me with concern. “Micah.”
I shake my head. We’re done here. There’s nothing she can say that will change my mind.
I’ve lied about my past and denied myself who I really am for far too long.
“Beverly,” I call out to the woman who is still lingering not too far away. I can’t help thinking what a great mom she must be, and how Jason and Nathan are lucky to have her. I reach inside the pocket of my jeans just as she pivots on her heels.
Her gaze narrows when it meets mine.
“I know you think I’m hurting her.” I twirl Aubrey’s necklace around my hand and run my thumb over the pendant, casting a shadow over the smooth stone. “But the only way you can protect a firefly is to let it fly free. If you don’t” —I press the piece of jewelry to my lips before tossing it in her hands— “their light fades.”
Beverly brings the turquoise rock to the sun and admires the shimmer.
“Give it back to her.”
Her lips thin.
“Tell her that maybe one day when the storm passes and the rain is just a light drizzle, I’ll come back to watch her dance in the meadow.” I ignore the disapproval in her eyes and I place my helmet over my head. “Do this for me, and I’ll come back for Jason’s birthday next year.”
“Anything else?”
“Word for word?”
She nods.
I bite the inside of my cheek until the bitter, metallic taste of blood invades my mouth. “Tell her: Always, I promise.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Micah
Eleven Years Ago
“Micah,” Lillie cries out in panic. She’d been asleep for fifteen minutes when we heard what sounded like an explosion. I busted out of my room to check out what it was and saw that the top of our staircase was burning with bright orange flames, blocking us from a safe way out. “Micah I can’t reach.”
“You’re almost there, Lillie. Just a little more.” I try to lift her a little higher, but her small hands slip and all I get as a response is a frustrated groan filled with worry.
I knew she wouldn’t be able to bust it open. The window opening is way too high and too small, there’s barely enough room for a good grip. Unless a person has the exact right angle, it’s merely impossible to climb out from our basement windows. But I had to try.
“I’m sorry.” She clutches at my neck, crying.
I hold her against me and shush her. “It’s not your fault, you’re doing the best you can.” It’s really my fault for putting so much responsibility in the hands of a five-year-old.
“But it’s not working, Micah. What do we do?”
The heat inside Lillie’s room is making it hard to think. I already tried moving the hard maple wood furniture my sister inherited from our grandparents, but they’re so heavy they won’t even budge.
“Fuck,” I mutter, scanning the room trying to see if there’s anything else I can use. Black, dense smoke is making its way under the closed door where I put some of Lillie’s clothing to stop it from spreading. I expected it to hold some of it back, at le
ast until we managed to get out, unfortunately it’s really not working as well as I would have hoped.
Dammit, Micah, think.
I close my eyes for a second. I’m running out of ideas and, there’s nothing inside Lillie’s bedroom that I can move to help us get out. The only other solution is the one thing I didn’t want to do in the first place. The thought of leaving my sister alone in her room while I attempt to worm myself through the window, even if it’s just for half-a-minute, scares the crap out of me.
“Micah?”
“I know.” I push her long blonde locks out of her face and lower myself, kneeling on the ground to her eye-level. “Lillie, I’m going to go out the window first, okay?”
“How?” She coughs.
“I’m going to lift myself up and push the window to get out like Daddy showed me.”
“But it’s so high.” She coughs again, this time choking on her air.
From the corner of my eye, I spot the old inhaler my mother had kept in case Lillie had another lung infection flare-up, and grab it. “Are you doubting your big brother’s muscles?” I tease, placing her spacer over her face. I know Lillie, if I start panicking so will she. I bury my fear as far down as possible and do my best to pretend like everything is going to be okay.
“I love you, Mi-mi.”
My heart cracks. “Breathe, Lillie. Don’t talk.” I love you too, kid. So damn much. “I’m going to climb up there and as soon as I get out, I’ll pull you up, okay?”
She looks up at the window and when she peers down at me her brows are pulled together. I’m not sure if it’s because she doesn’t think I can make it or if she’s afraid of being stuck alone in her smoldering room, but either way, we’re running out of options. The smoke in here is thickening up and I don’t want us to die.
She throws her spacer on her bed and locks her arms around my neck.
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