Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Micah remained mute. The only evidence that he was affected by my words was the tightening of his jaw.
“What about Rory and Christopher? How many years before they stop being terrified of making a mistake that will get the three of you discovered? Rory might be too young to understand it now, but Christopher isn't. He knows what it will mean if you guys get caught. You wind up behind bars, and he and Rory will be back in that hellhole faster than you can blink.”
“It's not your problem,” Micah said and then he turned to reach for the door. I grabbed his hand before he could unlock it and then placed my body between his and the door. The move forced him back several steps.
“It is my problem,” I snapped, my anger making a rare appearance. “The second you walk out of this building those kids will be a target in more ways than you can imagine. Every pervert, every sick fuck will be watching them, waiting for their chance. It will either be some guy like Ricky who wants to profit from them or some fucker like all those assholes who’ve hurt you so many times.” I found myself digging my fingers into the doorknob at my back as I thought about Micah being violated.
Focus, Con. Here and now.
“Running won’t bring you peace, Micah. Trust me, it just won't.”
“Yeah, well, it's all I have.”
He made a move to reach behind me for the knob, but I grabbed his fingers in mine and then gently spun him so his back was against the door. I used my body to crowd his and just like that, he quickly became more focused on our positions than anything else. I wasn't exactly proud of the fact that I was going to use his physical response to me against him, but I was desperate. I had this one chance to make him see reason, to keep him safe and to give him back the future I'd taken from him.
“Let me help you,” I said softly as I ran my fingers down Micah's cheek. He was badly bruised and had stitches and bandages holding the worst of his lacerations closed, but I still couldn't take my eyes off him. His eyes spoke volumes and for the first time since we’d started talking, I saw a sliver of doubt in them.
But he shook his head almost violently. “No,” he ground out. “No.”
My stomach felt tight with nerves, much like it did before a fight. But these were different nerves. Call me cocky or overly confident, but I always knew going into a fight what the outcome would be. I couldn’t say the same for what was going to happen with Micah.
“Micah, please just think about this for a minute. Christopher isn't old enough to file for emancipation and even if he were, he isn’t strong enough. No judge would grant him the right to take care of himself. Since he’s Brady's son, you have a chance of getting legal custody of him, especially considering Clara's arrest records and continued use of drugs. But you have no viable work history, no credit, no financial stability. No judge is going to give custody of a fourteen-year-old to someone who hasn't held a legitimate job before.”
“How did you—” Micah began. But then he snapped his mouth shut. I could see his eyes shining with moisture, though he seemed to be doing everything in his power not to let any tears fall. I knew I was hurting his pride, but I needed to make him see reason. But damn, those pretty eyes…
I found myself tipping my head forward so that our foreheads were touching.
“I'm so sorry, sweetheart,” I whispered. “I’m not trying to hurt you, I swear it. I know how hard you work to keep those kids safe. I know how much you love them and how much you’ve sacrificed to give them the best life you could. And I know how much you loved your brother. Please, I just want to help you.”
My throat felt tight with emotion, and it was all I could do not to let my own tears fall. I hated feeling helpless. It brought back too many dark memories that I’d long ago promised myself would never again see the light of day. Aside from that day when I’d been a foolish little kid who’d still believed the world was a good place, I’d only felt this powerless two other times in my life. One had been when I’d learned of my younger brother's illness and likely death. Back then, there had at least been a solution that I'd been able to work with. But now, I had no guarantees when it came to Micah. I felt responsible for him, and yet I couldn't ensure that I could keep him safe.