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Chapter Thirty-Seven

Mikah

Zach actually threatened me. He told me if I didn’t get out of his house, he was going to kill me. That was two days ago, and I’m still here… and alive. At least, I think I am. Looking around his trailer, this could be considered hell, I guess. Or maybe it’s heaven, considering I’m currently alone. Who knows?

What I do know is that I can’t leave. I can’t go back to that house. Maybe it’s the coward’s way out, but I’ll live with it. There is no way I can go back to that house and face Dominic. I just can’t. I’m too devastated over what happened, and I’m only going to believe the lies he tells me if I do. I won’t do that to myself. Zach is just going to have to deal with it.

Dominic isn’t quite like my mother, but the sentiments are the same. It all ends the same. I believe them when they’re nice because it’s what I want. I’m not strong enough to call people out on their bullshit and I know that’s ridiculous, but it’s just who I am. I’m a fucking pushover. There, I said it .

I grab the blankets and pull them up to my chin. I’ve spent the day in bed and don’t plan on moving anytime soon. I doubt Zach will come home and kick me out. So I close my eyes, ready to go back to sleep, but then I hear shouting from outside. The walls of this place are so thin, you can hear everything. Shouting and screaming outside isn’t uncommon, but the voices sound close and one of them sounds like Zach.

There are no windows in this room, so I get up to head outside. I don’t bother putting shoes on, just head out in my sweats and t-shirt. When I open the door, I’m not sure what I expect. To see Zach arguing with someone, I guess. Someone like one of his siblings or neighbors. Not Dominic.

Which is exactly who he is fighting with. Not physically, but verbally. They’re shouting at one another, and I’m stuck here, still as a statue because fuck, he looks so good. And I missed him.

No, moron. This is the problem!

Yeah, this is the problem. The problem is I’m so desperate for good things that I look past the bad to get it.

“I’m telling you, this isn’t the answer!” Zach shouts.

“I don’t really care what you say. It’s my decision, and it’s done. Now let me—”

He steps past Zach, looking up and catching my gaze. We lock eyes and he stops dead in his tracks. I swear I see hurt in his eyes, but it’s all bullshit.

“Mikah,” he breathes out, wide eyes still on me.

I grit my teeth and hold my chin up, refusing to show weakness .

“Dominic,” I return.

He steps forward, rubbing the back of his neck. “I came here to talk to you.”

“It’s a bad idea,” Zach grits out. “Don’t do this.”

I frown, looking at Zach. “Do what?”

Dominic turns enough to look at Zach but is still facing me. “I will tell him.”

“Tell me what?” I blurt out, already getting that nervous feeling in my chest.

Dominic turns to me, and I can’t help but look him over. There’s short scruff on his face that makes him look a little older and a lot darker. More dangerous. The leather jacket, tight jeans and boots aren’t helping. Fuck, he’s so hot. I hate it.

Stop being so desperate.

“Tell me what?” I ask again, this time walking down the steps. Because as usual, that voice isn’t as strong when Dominic is around, and this is exactly what I was afraid of—why I didn’t want to go home.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Zach mutters, moving past us and going inside. The screen slaps the frame after him, echoing around us.

“Is there somewhere we can go that’s more private?” Dominic asks. “You can meet me there if you don’t want to drive with me.”

“I’ll go with you,” I say too quickly. “Just let me get my shoes. ”

He nods and I hurry inside to put my shoes on. There’s a rack there, but no one uses it. All the shoes are in a pile on the floor in front of it.

I get into Dominic’s car, and I direct him to a park down the street. It’s small and hardly used. There isn’t much here, just an open field with a few benches. It’s so boring, even the teenagers don’t want to hang out here.

Once Dominic is in a parking spot in the small lot, he shuts the car off and we get out.

There are a few streetlights, so it isn’t fully dark over here, but they only reach so far. We head to one of the benches, and with my hands shoved into my pockets, I sit on the end of the bench. Dominic sits down too, and I notice immediately all the space between us.

Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. This was stupid. Why do I have to be so damn impulsive when it comes to him? He makes it hard to think. Or to think clearly . Or maybe he makes me think too clearly, since he’s the only one who shuts up that damn voice in my head.

“How have you been?” he asks, sounding unsure.

He’s never unsure. Never nervous. He’s always so confident and knows exactly what needs to be said and done all the time.

This isn’t good.

“Okay, I guess. You?”

“Honestly? Not great.” He gets to his feet and takes a few steps away, letting his head fall back and taking a deep breath. The moon is shining high beyond him, and with the lights ahead of him, he’s just a silhouette to me. A tall, muscled, sexy silhouette.

“I put my house up for sale,” he says suddenly.

“What?” I bark out, getting to my feet. “What do you mean? Why?”

Way to sound desperate, Mikah.

“Because of you.”

I try not to flinch at his words but fail. Obviously he wouldn’t want to be next to me after all that’s happened. It’s the exact reason I didn’t want to go home. He can’t stand to be next to me, and that hurts. It’s not fair, because I thought the same of him, but being on the other end of it? It sucks. I thought maybe… I don’t know. That he missed me even a little? That he was hurting too. That he isn’t a complete asshole like I thought he was.

“Is that all you came to tell me?” I ask, not sure why he couldn’t have just texted that or called. It’s not like I had his number blocked; I just didn’t answer his calls. I saw the texts, though. I always read them. Not that there were many, because they stopped soon after I left.

“Basically.” He turns to face me. “I wanted to make sure you knew that you could go back home and be comfortable. That I won’t be in your way.”

“Be in my way?” I snap. “What the hell does that mean?”

Anger burns in my chest, and I don’t know why. My hands fist at my sides, and I want to punch him .

“Mikah, you ran away from me. It’s obvious you want nothing to do with me.”

“You’re the one who wants nothing to do with me!” I shout, stepping closer to him.

It’s taking everything in me not to sucker punch him right in his handsome face. It would feel so damn good, I bet. And knowing him, he’d just take it. He’d let me do it. He seems like that kind of person. No, he definitely is that kind of person. I need to stop acting like I don’t know who he is, because I do.

“Who the fuck said that?” he asks.

I scoff. “No one needed to say it, Dominic. Your actions spoke loud enough.”

“My actions?” he asks in a low tone. “What actions would that be, Mikah? Me filing a report because I thought someone kidnapped you? Me sticking around Vegas for days, hoping you showed up? Me calling you and texting you, begging to tell me where you were so I could help you? Me being a miserable fuck over the last month after learning that you willingly left me when I thought you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere?” His words slowly get louder as he goes on, and it’s obvious he’s pissed.

I swallow past the lump in my throat, find my voice, and say, “You kissing Trent at the club.”

“Me kissing—” He makes a choked sound. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s what this is about?” He blinks, waiting for me to answer .

And, well, when he puts it that way, it seems like it isn’t a big deal. But it is. I know how it made me feel, how it still makes me feel when I think about it.

“I hope you’re fucking kidding, and this isn’t just about him kissing me .”

“ You were kissing him ,” I say, though my voice is small this time. I cross my arms over my chest, trying to look confident, but I feel weaker than normal.

“No the fuck I was not,” he barks, stepping closer to me. “I shoved him off me and threatened him after he pulled that shit in the club. But let me guess… you didn’t see any of that, did you?”

“I…” I don’t know what to say, is what. Because no, I didn’t. “You were kissing him for a long time. What does it matter? You going to blame it on being drunk? You thought it was me?”

He’s just saying these things to make himself feel better. To get a clear conscience. I know what I saw.

“A long time? Are you joking? It lasted maybe two seconds because I was stunned at how much of a dick he was. Did you ever think that maybe it seemed a lot longer because you were trashed?”

I rear my head back, shaking it. He doesn’t give me the opportunity to speak. He steps closer and keeps going.

“Do you not remember everything I said to you that night? Because I wasn’t as drunk as you, Mikah. And I meant everything I said. I would have married you that fucking night. I would have gone home and moved all your shit into my house the next goddamn day, single-handedly, and never would have regretted a second of it. Yes, I should have told Trent to fuck off at the award show, but I was just… trying to keep up appearances. That was wrong, I get it. But I promise you, I did nothing fucking wrong at the club. Nothing. He found me. He kissed me. And I told him to fuck off. And then I went and removed his shit from my page because he’s a piece of shit who has no respect for me or for you, and I won’t stand for that.”

“I don’t believe you,” I whisper, fighting back tears.

“Don’t?” He steps closer to me. “Or don’t want to?”

I roll my lips between my teeth, fighting with myself to hold his stare, but it’s hard. It hurts. I feel my armor cracking.

“I’m not someone who begs, Mikah, and I’m not going to sit here and beg you to be with me, because that isn’t fair to me. I want to be with you— still . I miss the fuck out of you, and I want you with me. I mean that. But if you don’t believe me, if you can’t believe that I want you just the way you are, this will never work. Maybe it will for another month. Two. A year. But the issues you have going on? You need to figure out what you want.” His palm comes up to rest on my chest, right over my heart. It takes everything in me not to melt into him. “I love you. I want to be with you. But you need to figure out what it is you want and if you can handle your shit enough to be with me the way I need you. Because even if I don’t act like it, I do need you too. I need you to be there for me the way you were. And I can be patient with you while you work through your shit. I knew it was there from the beginning. But I can only do that if there’s a chance of this working out in the end. If there isn’t?” He drops his hand and steps back. “I can’t feel like this forever. If there’s no chance at all, you need to say that.”

I try to swallow again, completely at a loss for words, but my mouth is so dry I feel like I’m going to choke.

Seconds pass. Minutes. An hour? He finally walks off toward the car.

“Come on. I’ll take you back.”

Like a robot, I follow him. And though the ride back to Zach’s is quick, it feels like a year. No one says a word. Not during and not when he pulls up in front of Zach’s. My hand lingers on the handle, and I want to say something. I want to tell him that I love him too, that I want to be with him, that he makes everything better, but he’s right.

I’m hurt by what he did, and he took responsibility for that… but I haven’t taken responsibility for my shit. Not once since we’ve been together. And that isn’t fair to him. I can’t do that to him or to myself. So maybe once I get my head on straight, for good, I can look back on this and figure out if it’s him I really want.