Page 24 of Rescuing Micah (Prey Security: Cyber Team #3)

It was a weird dichotomy because Micah both knew he had no right to have Teresa back in his life in any way, shape, or form, but at the same time, he craved regaining what he once had so carelessly tossed aside.

He wanted Teresa more than he wanted his next breath of air.

Wanted her to smile at him like she used to, those little ones she used to shoot his way when she thought he wasn't looking. He’d always pretend to be distracted by something, preoccupied so she wouldn't know he was watching and cherishing every second.

Those smiles had been full of warmth and love.

She hadn't hidden anything in them, looking at him like he was the rock in her life, the one thing she could stand on when she was overwhelmed by all the responsibilities on her young shoulders.

She used to believe he hung the moon, but now she thought he guarded the gates to hell.

How could he possibly earn back her love when what he’d done was so awful?

As much as he wanted to study that problem until he could come up with a solution, he knew he had other things he needed to focus on as well.

Like figuring out what was going on with Teresa today.

This morning, he’d covered her wounds with waterproof bandages so she could take a shower, and she’d been grateful although she’d flinched every time his fingers had brushed against her skin. At first, he’d thought it was because she was affected by his touch, but now, he wasn't so sure.

There had been something like panic in her eyes each time she flinched.

But what could she possibly be panicked about?

It wasn't like he didn't already know that she loathed him and was only putting up with his presence in her life because of the threat hanging over her. That and the fact that he was Nathaniel’s teammate and Ava was one of her best friends, so their lives would be connected, and she probably didn't want to cause problems for the happy couple.

So if she wasn't just hating the feel of his touch, then what else could it be?

All she’d done at breakfast and lunch was pick at her food. At the time he’d wondered again whether it was just being around him that had her thrown, now he thought it was more than that.

There was another obvious answer as to why she wasn't keen on eating.

Nausea.

If she felt sick, it would make sense that the thought of putting food in her mouth only made her feel worse. And if she knew she was running a fever, she might have been afraid that if he touched her skin, he’d feel that it was overheated.

A bit of a stretch maybe, but it did fit with what he knew about Teresa. She’d never been one to admit weakness. With so much to take care of as a kid, she’d always tried to push through when she was sick because people were depending on her.

Was that what she was trying to do now?

The last few times he’d checked her wounds, they had been a little red and inflamed. There had been no puss and nothing to confirm infection, and he’d been relying on Teresa to be honest with him if she started feeling worse.

A mistake.

Obviously.

She’d been holed up in her room all day, not because she needed space but because she was trying to avoid him.

Shoving off the couch, Micah hurried to Teresa’s bedroom. As much as he had been trying to respect her need for space and not shove himself on her, even though he’d love to haul her into his lap and apologize over and over again until she had no choice but to accept, this wasn't the time for space.

Physical health came first. If she was trying to hide from him that she was sick, he needed to know. There was no way he was going to lose her to her own stubborn pride.

Pride already had her shutting out the people who loved her.

He knew for a fact she hadn't responded to any of the texts she’d received because he was in constant contact with Nathaniel and Ava.

In fact, the three of them had started a group chat, added Chelsea, then Tobias and Isabella, and even Josiah had reluctantly agreed to be part of it.

If she’d replied he would have known about it, and she hadn't.

If she didn't soon, she was likely going to find herself the recipient of an intervention.

Not bothering to knock on Teresa’s door because he already knew she’d just tell him to go away, that she was fine, he opened it and saw her standing beside her bed.

She had a hand pressed to her temple like she was dizzy, and when she turned toward the now open door she swayed and teetered precariously.

There was no conscious thought on his part.

He was just there, beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against his chest so she didn't hit the floor.

“I was fine,” she grumbled, but her voice was thready, her protest weak at best.

“You were going to fall,” he corrected. When they were kids, he’d never coddled her, he’d respected her strength and determination, but never been shy about pointing out her weaknesses, mainly her stubborn pride, and how it could negatively affect her if she let it.

“Was not,” she shot back, but there was no heat to her tone.

“You're sick.” It came out accusing, because, okay, that’s how he meant it. She should know better than to play games with her health for any reason whatsoever.

“Am not.”

Rolling his eyes, Micah pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “Then why are you burning up?”

“Because I was in bed, under the covers.” She huffed, actually sticking out her bottom lip into a pout.

Again, there was no conscious thought on his part, his thumb just pressed to her lip, trailing along it, remembering all the times he’d kissed her.

Back then, he’d never thought about what a privilege it was to be able to kiss Teresa whenever he wanted, he’d taken it for granted, not realizing how good he’d had it until it was gone.

“You’re sick,” he said again, more reproachful this time than accusing. “You didn't tell me that you were feeling sick.”

“Didn't want you to think I was weak.” Her gaze dropped, and her already flushed cheeks pinked further.

“Why on earth would I think you were weak?” Micah had a feeling that the answer to that question was also the answer to why she was shutting everyone out.

“Because I didn't save myself,” she whispered. There was so much pain in those few words that his heart ached.

“I didn't save myself either,” he reminded her.

“You would have. You’d already gotten free. I didn't. I didn't stop them from taking part of my liver.”

Smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear, he palmed her cheek, his fingers tracing along soft skin he thought he’d never get to touch again.

“You held it together under the most horrific of circumstances, how can you think you were weak? How many other people do you think almost bit off the finger of one of the doctors?”

“Umm … probably none?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling you.”

“Then say it like you believe it. Tell me that no one else dared to do what you did.”

“No one else did what I did. No one else almost bit off that monster’s finger.” Her voice was stronger that time, and there was a flicker of determination in her eyes.

“I told you in the hospital not to shut yourself off from the people who love you. That’s what you’ve been doing and you're letting all those bad feelings fester. You went through something horrific, but nobody thinks you’re weak.

Least of all me. Knowing what you’ve survived in life, I'm in awe of you.”

Their gazes met and he knew in that moment that if he never gained Teresa’s forgiveness, never got her back, there would never be another woman for him.

This woman owned his heart.

Always had. Always would.

“Please don’t shut us out,” he whispered. Teresa had already survived so much, he knew she could find a way through this, too. But it didn't matter what he knew, she had to know it, too.

When she gave a shaky nod, he knew she’d pulled herself back from the brink. It was far too easy to fall over that ledge and far too hard to climb back up.