Page 19 of Rescuing Micah (Prey Security: Cyber Team #3)
She was still in shock.
Was it ever going to pass?
It wasn't like Teresa was new to the feeling of being violated, after all, she had been gang raped by four boys when she was seventeen. She knew what it was like to feel as though she were going to be ripped in two, to have something forced inside her body that she didn't want there.
But this was a different kind of violation and it hit differently.
Which sounded sort of silly.
Of course, something different hit different.
She just hadn't expected to feel this way.
When she’d first woken up, in an ambulance with Micah at her side, she’d realized that she’d been saved, and her first hope was that they’d gotten to her before the doctor could perform surgery.
That hope had fizzled out in a split second when the pain hit.
They’d operated on her.
Stolen from her.
And she’d come dangerously close to losing her finger as well.
For some reason, the little cut on her pinkie finger, not even an inch long, not even deep enough to be categorized as anything more than a scratch, bothered her more than the wound on her stomach where they’d cut her open.
The wound on her stomach was business, but the one on her finger was pure cruelty.
The doctor had been going to amputate her finger as payback for her biting him, it had nothing to do with selling organs.
Micah had been heartbroken to inform her that he’d been too late.
That the Prey team had gotten to them after she’d already been operated on.
When she heard the words, she’d felt like she wanted to burst into tears, but those tears wouldn't come.
Even now, hours later, after being poked and prodded in the hospital, learning that she’d had part of her liver removed, her wound properly restitched, she couldn’t seem to get the tears to come.
They hovered inside her, burned the backs of her eyes, but they wouldn't fall.
Maybe because the shock was yet to wear off.
How could her tears fall when she felt so numb?
There were too many emotions raging inside her, and it was almost as if they’d tangled together and gotten clogged. They couldn’t come out because there wasn't enough space to let them out.
“How are you doing?” Micah asked as he walked back into her hospital room.
As badly as she wanted to go home, she had yet to convince a doctor that she would feel better and heal better if she was back in her own environment.
What nobody else could understand was that the entire fabric that she’d built her adult life on had just been ripped out from underneath her.
Her belief that Micah had known about her assault and decided not to stand beside her as she battled through the aftermath was false.
He hadn't known, and that changed nothing, and yet somehow it also changed everything.
How was she supposed to deal with that and being abducted and operated on against her will?
She couldn’t.
Simple as that.
All her life, she’d been the person who took problems and found a way to make them work. She didn't complain, she just took what life gave her and worked with it. But she didn't know how to do that now.
Didn't know what to do with all the fear, and anger, and terror that simmered inside her.
What was going to happen when it started to boil?
Was it going to destroy her from the inside out?
“No one expects you to be okay, you know that, right?” Micah asked.
When she turned her head to the side, she saw that he’d resumed his spot in the chair beside her bed.
The same chair he’d been sitting in almost the entire time she’d been in there.
Not only had he ridden with her in the ambulance, but he had insisted that he would remain in her room while she was examined in the ER, then, when she was taken for further tests, he had refused to leave her side.
Other than the occasional brief trip to the bathroom or to get her something to eat, he’d stayed.
It wasn't that she wanted him there … not exactly anyway, but she had become accustomed to his presence, and that worried her.
He wasn't staying in her life. Even if he wouldn't have to go back to the other side of the country as soon as his leave was over, she didn't want him to be part of her future.
Just because he hadn't known the truth, the fact that he could write her off so easily and block her out of his life like she meant nothing meant she could never trust him again.
His apologies weren't enough to fix the mess he’d made.
Nothing was.
So why was he even bothering?
Whatever else he was, Micah was smart, always had been.
He had to recognize the fact that in life you could never go back, only forward, always forward.
And there was nowhere for them to go. If they went forward, they would just hit block after block.
There was no way to travel back in time to when things were perfect and then freeze them.
“What you went through was … beyond horrific,” Micah continued, even though she hadn't spoken a word. “It’s going to take time for you to heal. While you do, you shouldn’t be pushing away the people who care about you. Ava has been through what you have, you should have let her come in to see you.”
Ava hadn't been through what she had.
Her friend had been abducted, yes, and had one of her organs removed, but Ava had escaped. Ava had been strong enough to get herself out, to save herself, whereas Teresa would still be back there in that hellhole if Prey hadn't been able to find them.
The fact that it was Micah who was there telling her she shouldn’t shut others out when that was precisely what he’d done to her was ironic.
Frustratingly ironic. She hadn't asked him to stay with her, and she was tired, hurting, and wanted to go home.
It was time for him to go away so she could work on getting over him for a second time.
Not something she was looking forward to.
But she’d done it once so she could do it again. It didn’t matter if she wasn't sure how she could do it this time around, she’d find a way. The alternative was to never get him out of her mind, and that wasn't happening.
Already, he’d left lingering marks that haunted her every so often, there was no way she was going to put up with more than that.
If anything, she now wanted to rid herself of those lingering marks so she could move forward with a fresh start.
Now she knew the truth about what had happened, maybe she really could move on.
“I’m so sorry, Teresa. I wish I could go back and do it all over. Call the cops that day, get those men off you, and stand by your side. That was where I belonged, and I’ve had an ache in my chest ever since. My heart knew what I was missing before my head caught up.”
If his apology was supposed to help, it didn't.
All it did was serve to remind her that she’d had that same ache, only she’d had it because of his choices and not her own.
“Go,” she said softly, her voice hoarse. She’d only used it to answer direct questions from medical personnel.
“Not leaving you alone.”
“Go,” she repeated, stronger this time as she pushed herself up in the bed a little, wincing as it pulled on the wound on her stomach.
“Not leaving you alone,” Micah said again, standing and reaching for the bed’s controls, elevating it a little so she could still rest against the mattress while also sitting up.
“I don’t want you here,” she hissed. It was too much.
If she was going to figure out a way to get out of the mess of emotions she was mired in, she needed to focus on one thing at a time.
Since the trafficking ring was still operational, dealing with that mess was more important than her boyfriend from when she was a teenager abandoning her.
Micah winced at her words, but he nodded, and his tone was soft as he spoke.
“I know you don’t want me here, but that’s not enough to make me leave.
I almost lost you. They took you, operated on you, and I failed you all over again.
I will not fail you again. Will not lose you.
My own stupidity cost me more than a decade with you, and I understand I might never get you back, that you might never be mine again.
But understand one thing, Teresa, I will always be yours.
Always. Nothing can change that. So I am not leaving your side, no matter what you say, or what you want, until I know that you are safe. ”
May 2 nd
11:00 A.M.
Shock was painted over every one of Teresa’s features as she stared back at him.
Obviously, his impassioned speech had been the last thing she expected to hear, but hopefully it had gone a distance toward convincing her that he was serious about making up for his past mistakes.
Even if she didn't want him in her life going forward—something Micah could absolutely understand and would not blame her for at all—he could still do this for her.
He could make sure she was safe, make sure she was taking care of herself, eating and sleeping, taking her painkillers, and not overdoing things.
If someone wasn't there to watch over her, he knew she would push too hard and make herself sick. And in addition to her physical health, the last thing she needed was to be alone with her thoughts.
Knowing what he’d done to her, the pain he’d caused, had him feeling like he needed to claw his way out of his own skin. The guilt and regret were so strong that it was impossible to think of anything else. He had to do something, and this was the only tangible thing.
Did it make anything better?
Not at all.
Not even a teeny tiny little bit.
But it was at least something.
Better than doing nothing.
When Teresa had been raped, he hadn't been there to take care of her, to tend to any wounds she had, to hold her while she cried, to keep watch over her while she slept in an attempt to keep the nightmares at bay.
Literally nothing was going to keep him from being by her side now.