Skepticism (Life. Destiny. Fate. #4)
Page 6
I shake my head, afraid to speak the truth. “Nat, you’re going to have to open up to me if we’re gonna make this work.”
He sits next to me and grabs one of my hands. My eyes trail his body and the numerous scars from being shot. I brush a finger over one of them, going back to that tragic night. It’s a miracle he survived.
Studying his body, I recalibrate my thoughts, his words “make this work” ring loud and clear. I do my best to put together a comprehensible response, but can’t. Instead I simply ask, “Make what work?” He knows just as much as I do the grave pain we could both endure if we do this.
“Us! I fucked up, baby, and I can’t apologize enough to you. But I think it’s time that we stopped living like this.”
“I want nothing more, but my common sense is telling me not at the risk of losing you permanently.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that,” I retort, holding his face in my hands. I realize that this might be all the time we have ’til we have to part again, and I don’t want to waste it. “Can we not talk about this right now? Our time is running out, and I just want to enjoy you.”
“Of course,” he says, leaning down and kissing me on the forehead. Watching him dress, I imagine how perfect things would be if Michelle were here. How I’ve ached to have my little girl, to see her, to know her, to be a family with Micah. But I stop my mind from drifting. I know the hard truth, the consequences of our pasts.
“Are you ready?” Micah asks me nonchalantly, like us leaving together is no big deal. We haven’t been out together in so long. Although, I do feel that I’m safe here, something is nagging at the back of my head telling me it’s not a good idea to go out tonight, but I ignore it. I’ve done enough hiding and living in fear, Micah will protect me. I nod my head, praying that no one sees us together. “Are you all right?” he asks me.
“Yeah.” I get up and Micah follows me to the front door so we can leave.
“I’ll drive, beautiful,” he says.
“Okay,” I respond getting into his car. I miss times like this with him. “What kind of car do you have in Colorado?” I ask him, needing to know anything and everything about his life. He’s told me a little over the last day, but I still feel like it’s not enough.
“A Yukon SUV.”
I nod, my mind racing a million miles a minute. “I’m sure it’s white too.”
He places his hand over mine. “It is.”
“Tell me more about your life.”
“There’s not too much to it. Mostly I work a lot. Colorado is beautiful; I see so many things all the time that you would love. The seasons are something else, and the mountains.”
“It sounds amazing there. You know, I’m surprised you’ve built this life doing something that is the complete opposite of who you are.”
“What do you mean?” he asks me.
“You defend criminals, Micah, and we are the criminals.”
“But we don’t have to be. I’m finally good at something honest and I want to share all of that with you and…and Michelle.”
“I think you’re forgetting that we both have targets on our backs. You were shot and I escaped. They came for blood, and we’d be dumb to think that they’ve forgotten about it. And bringing Michelle into the picture is out of the question. I won’t put her at risk too.”
“Nat, I know you’re being cautious, but I’m tired of living without you. I’d rather risk my life every day to have you by my side, than to continue living the way that I have without you.”
Leaning my head back, I take a deep breath, holding it in while absorbing his words. I want to be with him as well. I don’t want to go on with my pointless life the way that I’ve been forced to, but I fear that if we make this leap, we’ll be signing away our future.
“Say something,” he begs.
“I want all of that too, but I also couldn’t live with myself if I lost you because of it. Or if we both died and never got to meet Michelle, that’s not fair for her…” I trail off, getting choked up.
“Stop thinking that way right now, baby. It’s not healthy. For me…please. We aren’t going to die.”
I listen to Micah the way that I always have. A long empty life or a short one filled with all the love and passion we share? With our daughter? The draw is too strong, and his words have a way of resonating with me. Pulling up to the beach, it’s dark and desolate with the moon shining extra bright tonight. The sight calms me, and I’m happy that there is no one else here.
“Let’s go, baby,” he says, shutting off the engine.
Getting out of the car, we lock hands and make our way to the beach, leaving our shoes along the way. “It’s beautiful here,” he says.
“I’ve come to love it. It reminds me of Maryland sometimes on a gloomy, cold day. And we get a lot of those.”
“We don’t get the ocean in Colorado, I miss it.”
“Why Colorado?” I ask him.
“I had forty-nine states to choose from and my mother had always wanted to visit. So I went there and fell in love with it, and things just kind of fell into place.”
“Dose anyone there know about your past?”
“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t risk it.” As Micah and I continue to walk, we are both silent. And I think we are both okay with that. There is so much to process right now, so many what-ifs, that I think the simple fact of just being together is enough.
“How have you survived so long without me?” I tease Nat as she attempts to help me cook dinner.
“I can cook…some things.” She shrugs her shoulders. The look on her face is dead serious and I think she really believes she can cook.
“Boxed items don’t count, baby. Don’t you ever eat fresh meals?”
She chuckles at me. “The food I eat is fresh. I buy it and cook it and eat it. What more do you need?”
Taking a spoonful of the Marsala sauce that I just made, I blow on it to cool it down before bringing it to her lips. “Now close your eyes and taste what’s in this.”
She slurps the warm sauce then licks her lips. “You could make that out of a box.”
“No, you couldn’t,” I argue. “You are so difficult sometimes.”
“I’ve always been this way and you love it.”
I exhale knowing that she’s right and I love every second. “Will you turn the chicken please?”
She does as I top off our wines.
“I’m gonna take this; it’s the family I work for,” she says as her phone rings.
I nod at her and she answers while I slice veggies for the salad. I try not to listen, but it’s hard not to with her in the living room and it’s so open to the kitchen.
“Sorry about that.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, they are going out of town next week and asked if I could stay at their house and watch the kids for them ’til Friday.”
“What did you say?” I ask, knowing the answer, but internally wishing that she’d quit so that she could come home with me.
“I told them yes. What else would I say?”
“Nothing,” I lie not wanting to sound like a selfish asshole. I can’t just rip her away from her life. I serve our plates and set the salad on the table. She grabs our drinks and sits down. “You really like working with kids?” I ask.
“I do. I especially love the kids I work with and the family has been amazing to me.”
We begin to eat and I can’t help but stare at the ultrasound picture of Michelle that is sitting over on the coffee table. “How have you made it this long without contacting my grandmother?”
Setting her fork down, a sign that we are in for a long conversation, she says, “How have you? She’s really the only family you’ve got.”
“That’s simple – I won’t risk contacting anyone from back there with Moretti knowing I survived.”
“But you contacted Tomas?” she challenges.
“I did, but I didn’t stay on the phone lon
g. Plus, you and I both know he won’t tell a soul.”
“But what if he’s not the one to worry about, what if Moretti has someone watching him?” I don’t like her contention; thinking that something I could have done could potentially put a member of my family at risk isn’t okay with me.
“You might be right, Nat, but we can’t think like that. It’s not healthy.”
“How can I not?”
“You have to…please, for me,” I insist, even though I know I’m hiding in a cloud of denial. “Now, are you gonna answer my question?”
She squints her eyes at me, not liking that I’ve put her in her place. “I’ve wanted to reach out to your grandma more times than you could imagine, but I won’t risk it either. I’ve written letters and even stood at the mailbox, but every time I couldn’t bring myself to drop them. It has to be this way.”
“Do your parents know about Michelle?”
“No, no one does.”
“How was my grandma going to explain having a baby all of a sudden?” I ask, confused.
“I didn’t ask. I felt the less I knew the better. It was already unbearable just to leave her; I was a complete mess.” Her eyes tear up and I know the choice that she had to make was agonizing. Pouring her the last of the wine, I drop the subject. I feel so blessed to be here with her right now, especially because I don’t deserve it. With time, I pray the rest will come.
“Are you sure that you can’t come with me?” I practically beg Nat, not wanting to leave her in Seattle.
“I can’t, baby, my life is here. The Cohens have been so good to me and they need me. Besides…it’s not safe for us to live together.”
I accept her rejection, although I don’t want to.
“Please call me as soon as you land,” she pleads.
“I will. I love you, Natalene, and I’m sorry again for everything I’ve put you through.” Hugging her tightly to my chest, she clings to me, and I can tell that she’s crying. Her body shakes a little saying goodbye like this. It feels horrible, like this is another end for us.
“It’s gonna be okay, baby. I promise, I’ll come back soon and I’ll never let you down again…ever.”
She looks me in the eye, so concerned that what I’m telling her isn’t true. I don’t know how to prove to her that I’m being honest, except by doing what I tell her I will. My phone rings – it’s Rocco – and I know I need to leave. “I have to go. I love you, baby, more than anything. Stay strong.”
She nods her head. The sight of her so weak it destroys me. I want to stay here, but the guys need me in court Monday, and I already bailed on them part of last week. I can’t let them down again. Getting out of her car, I take my bag and make sure to look back. I want to prove to her that this isn’t forever. The sight of her so broken unravels me, but I persevere, knowing I have to be strong right now. I give her a reassuring smile and wave. She does the same. Rocco calls me again, however, this time I answer, “Hello?”
“Hey, Mr. Brown, I’m two spots down from where I dropped you off at.”
“Great, thanks. I’ll be there in a minute.” Hanging up I spot him and the plane. There is a mechanic refueling it and I shake Rocco’s hand upon entering.
“Did you have a nice trip?” he asks me.
“Yeah, it was fine. Got just about everything handled that I needed. Sorry I had to cancel my last flight.
“Not a big deal, mate,” he says.
Rocco sits in the pilot’s seat and looks over some paperwork. “There is a storm headed for Denver. I think we are going to have to head east, and then circle around to miss it.”
“Is it safe to be flying?”
“Yeah. We’ll be fine, but it might be bumpy over Colorado and take some extra time.”
Pulling out the new burner phone that I bought to stay in contact with Nat, I text her, The flight is projected to be bumpy, baby, I might be a little later than expected…but I’ll call you. I love you.
I love you too, be safe, she texts me right back.
“Are you ready, Mr. Brown?” Rocco asks me.
“10-4.”
We head down the runway and I close my eyes, getting lost in visions of the weekend with Natalene. God, it was amazing. Better than I ever imagined it would be. For a brief time, it felt like the old days, when everything was so easy.
The plane takes off and the acceleration causes me to open my eyes. I look around, feeling like the last time I sat in this seat I was Liam Brown, now Micah has awoken and adjusting to the feeling of being him again feels so right. My ears pop as the air pressure builds with the altitude. Normally, now is when I can sleep, but not this time. I’m antsy; I miss Nat. Maybe it’s because I know I’m leaving her behind and vulnerable. But I keep my thoughts in check – she’s had no reason to worry about her safety for the last ten years, so I’m not going to start now. Even with reaching out to Tomas…nothing will happen…it can’t.
Driving home – alone – I’m in a fog, lost, nervous. I’m not sure how Micah worked his way back into my heart so quickly, but he did. Maybe it’s because he never really left it, but I know that in order for me to make it in this life and to be happy, I need him by my side.
Putting my car in park, I look around feeling more stressed than usual. There is no one in sight and it’s quiet, so I grab my groceries then quickly head inside. Setting everything on the counter, I lock the door and check the time on my phone. Micah should be landing in Denver any time.
Putting my few groceries away, I leave out the sandwich stuff. As I open the lunch meat, the burner phone rings. My Micah phone. Pulling it out of my pocket, I answer his call feeling relief the second that I hear his cool, even tone.
“Hey, baby,” he says.
“You made it.”
“I did, it was rough, but I made it.”
“Good. God, I miss you, Micah.”
“Not as much as I do.” I grin at his words, my stomach flipping over. “Check your phone, I sent you something.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, taking a bite of my sandwich.
“It’s a picture.”
“Hold on, let me put you on speaker.” I do and then go into my text messages, opening the one from him. It takes a second for it to open and when it does, my heart stops. Tears gloss my eyes and I gasp out loud.
“Do you see it?” he asks me.
“Yeah.” My voice is barely audible.
“She looks just like you, Nat. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
Tears flood from my eyes staring at the picture of Michelle. She’s gorgeous and so grown up. She’s not the baby I last held in my arms. I know she’s barely ten, but I still imagined her the way I last saw her…until now.
“Where did you get this?” I ask, barely choking out the words.
“I did a little digging during my flight. I couldn’t help myself. I needed to know that she’s okay and…” he trails off.
“And what?” I ask.
“And that she’s happy. I needed to know that she’s happy without us.”
“Is she?”
“It seems that way.”
“You didn’t contact her, did you?”
“Of course not. I hacked into the school’s online system and was able to find out some stuff there. She’s a bright girl; my grandmother is doing a wonderful job. I have to say it again, Nat – thank you for making such a tough decision without me. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Micah. You would have done the same thing considering the circumstances. You couldn’t have known that’s what I was going through. Are you home safe yet?”
“Just pulling up.”
“Good.”
“Hey, did you—” He gets cut off and the phone cracks like it hit something.
There’s a scuffle in the background. I can barely hear Micah, and it sounds like other voices are yelling at him. My heart pounds hard against my chest, so hard that I think I might pass out. What the fuck is going on?
Feeling crazy inside, I go into autopilot and begin pacing my apartment, wishing there was something I could do. Knowing that I’m helpless makes me want to scream, climb the walls, anything, but none of it would do any good. Please let him be okay. Please God!
“Payback, motherfucker,” I hear one of the men say. Is this payback for something that he’s done in his new life, or…my hand knots in my hair, fearing the worst…or are these Moretti’s men, coming back to seek retaliation for what we did so many years ago?
Punch after punch is thrown from my face to stomach. One man holds me against my will while two others beat the shit out of me to send a message. Don’t fuck with Moretti. The unpleasant taste of metal from so much blood in my mouth reminds me of when I got shot.
“Moretti wants his fucking money back, plus interest.”
Each statement of theirs is met with another round of blows, my head hangs and I fear that Nat is going through exactly what I am right now. Moretti’s been known to hurt women, hell, probably children too.
Being outnumbered, I know I’m fucked. I take what they are giving me and know my only hope is to run after this. “If you don’t come through,” a man I remember from when I was a little kid gets close to my face and says, “We’ll kill you, your girl, your shady ass cousin, and anyone else that means anything to the two of you.”
Panic ensues – fuck, does Moretti know about Michelle?
“Payback motherfucker,” one of the men says, then the door to my house closes. Staring off, I’ve got their message loud and clear. There is no running from this, not now that they have threatened my family. Rolling over, I moan in agony and spit the blood from my teeth. I scoot myself across the room to the busted phone that lies facedown, but is my lifeline to Natalene.