His eyes widen a fraction. "What's in your apartment that you need?" he asks.
"My journal, my clothes, and the picture you gave me." My breath hitches at the idea of my baby's ultrasound picture.
Mikah stiffens at the mention of the picture. His eyes take on a very distant, thoughtful look, almost as though he is trying to recall something. "Where are the picture and your journal?"
"The picture is next to my bed, and the journal is under the foot of the bed, wedged between the pallet and the mattress."
He doesn't respond but rather reaches for his phone as he helps me sit in the wheelchair. He presses a button and puts it to his ear.
"Are you ready to go, Ms. Callahan?" the orderly behind me asks.
"I just need my stuff."
I spot a rather expensive duffle bag sitting at the foot of the bed.
"Red, can you go to Vivienne's apartment and collect a picture and her journal?"
"What about my clothes?" I say as Mikah reaches for the bag. He holds up one finger.
Slinging the duffle over his shoulder, he looks to the man behind me. "Let's go." But he hasn't said anything to Red about my clothes. "When did you do that?" he says into the phone. "Oh, okay then. Wait, what about the picture?" My heart sinks as Mikah's face falls. "I'll tell her. Thanks, Red."
He pulls the phone from his ear, presses a button, then puts it back to his ear as he walks alongside me, not giving me a chance to say anything.
"Celeste, we're leaving the hospital now. Were you able to take-" He cuts off.
"Perfect, thank you. We'll be home shortly. I'm going to take her downstairs." He pauses. "Okay, thanks."
We stop in front of the elevators. As Mikah pulls the phone away from his ear, the orderly hits the down arrow and I turn toward Mikah. "What about my picture?" I say. My tone is clipped, irritated.
Mikah's eyes dart to mine; they're wary. "The picture was gone when Red went by your apartment last night."
My heart sinks. I loved that picture. But where could it have gone? Why is it gone? Did Riley take it?
"Celeste already ordered a new frame, same as the other one. It should be here by Tuesday. And I still have the original picture, so I can replace the image."
"Thank you," I say quietly, still contemplating where the photo could’ve gone in the first place.
"You're welcome." He smiles. "Red took care of your apartment. Cleaned it up and moved all your stuff to the condo."
I nod, relieved that I don't have to deal with it myself but still sorry to see the apartment and my independence go, at least for now.
We ride the elevator down in silence. As we approach the entrance of the hospital, through the glass doors I see a limo parked in front of the door. I can't tell, but I'm pretty sure that it is the same one from a couple weeks back. We come through the double doors and there are two men standing on either side of the car, both very tall with broad shoulders. One has bright red hair, similar in color to my own, but in a short military cut. The other has darker hair, also cut short, but not as short as the first one’s.
My heart rate increases and anxiety flares as we come through the door. The one with red hair moves to the back door of the limo and opens it. Mikah hands him the bags, and he moves around to the trunk. My nerves settle a little as understanding registers: These are more of Mikah's men.
As Mikah extends his hand to me, I catch the orderly’s movement in the corner of my eye. I flinch, panic washing through me, and I jerk away from him. He reaches for the wheel lock on the chair. On my other side, I can see Mikah's hand, but I'm frozen in place. Then I realize all the orderly is doing is securing the wheelchair.
"Vivienne," I hear Mikah say quietly, and I turn stiffly in his direction. He mouths, "It's okay." I feel the fear wash out of me and I place my hand in his.
Stepping out of the wheelchair, I’m steadied by Mikah, who says to the orderly, "Thank you."
"Have a safe trip home," the orderly replies and wheels the empty chair back into the hospital.
THREE
Mikah leads me to the door of the limo and urges me to climb in. My hesitation to do so doesn’t go unnoticed by him.
"Andrew?"
"Sir?" the dark-haired one replies.
"Can you hit the interior lights and roll down the windows?" Mikah asks him.
I try but fail to smile at Mikah's quick thinking.
"Yes, sir," Andrew says, and I watch as the interior lights come on and the windows go down. I even catch motion in the top as the sunroof opens.
"Thanks," I say so only Mikah can hear me.
"Of course." He starts again to help me into the limo, and this time I go a little more freely, as I can see everything inside. "If you sit up toward the front, you won't be as cold."
I clamber up to the small bench seat, not at the front but on the driver’s side, and I sit down.
Mikah follows behind me, taking the seat next to me, his back to the driver. I shiver slightly as the colder air registers, and he puts out his arm. I slide closer to him and rest my head on his shoulder. In a slow, calculated move he brings his hand down so that his arm is along my back and his hand is on my hip. Holding me to him, he lightly kisses the top of my head.
We ride in silence, me fighting heavy eyes as exhaustion tries to consume me. I close my eyes but don't fall asleep.
I replay my dream - the one in the white hallway - trying hard to make sense of it.
I felt so alive, so free, and yet so well-protected, like nothing could hurt me, like I could feel no pain.
An angel? How is that even possible?
I don't get much time to linger on these thoughts before I feel Mikah squeeze a little tighter against my hip. "Wake up, sweetheart. We’re here."
I blink my eyes a couple of times. I feel slightly energized. But I can still feel the worry and fear in my body, not because I’m afraid I’ll be unwelcome or even that I’ll overstay my welcome, but because of the emotions I feel for Mikah. I’ve given up everything I've earned for myself to come here.
He slowly pulls his arm away from me and I sit up. Feeling heavy and uncoordinated, like I'm just waking up, I rub my eyes and then look out the window. A man dressed in livery is coming through a revolving door and heading straight for the limo at a rather intense speed.
I freeze. I don't know who he is or why he's charging toward us.
Mikah notices my hesitation and is quick to explain. "That's Arthur. He's the building doorman."
I nod slowly as Arthur moves to the back of the limo where Andrew, I think, is opening the trunk for the bags.
Mikah slides past me to the door just as the red-haired gentleman opens it. Mikah climbs out. "Thank you, Connor." I smile a little at the name; it doesn't suit him at all.
As I start to get out of the limo, Mikah holds out his hand, almost automatically, and I use him to climb out. Standing next to Connor I feel like a child standing next to her dad. He has at least a foot and half on me, and he’s taller even than Mikah.
Mikah leads me to the doors, but he bypasses the revolving door for the normal one. I can't help but smile at the idea that he's using it because of my claustrophobia. He really does pay attention. But I also notice that he doesn't let go of my hand as we walk through the door.
FOUR
Stepping inside the building, I see that the lobby décor is all tan and neutral tones with accents of black in the furniture. Opposite the door we've just come in is a security desk with a man sitting behind it.
"Good day, Mr. Blake."
"Hello, Charlie," Mikah replies to the man behind the counter. He's much older, heavyset with gray hair and glasses. He stands up in greeting as we pass toward the hallway to the right of the desk, and I find it comforting in some strange way to see a gun on his right hip.
We reach a bank of elevators but keep going, passing four different sets of doors until we come to the end of the hall. Directly in front of us is another set of elevator doors, and Mikah presses the up arrow
. "This is the only elevator that will reach my apartment and where we're going."
As soon as he finishes, the bell chimes and I jump slightly. I know my fear is due to the fact that we're so exposed. Once we're in Mikah's apartment, I know I'll feel better.
As we step into the elevator, I see Connor and Arthur coming in through the front doors. Arthur has the duffle bag. "Shouldn't we wait for them?" I ask, pointing in their direction.
"Nope, we're good to go up."
Mikah places a key card in a slot below the two buttons, then pushes the button for the sixth floor. I’d expected him to push the button for the seventh, assuming Mikah’s apartment would be on the top floor.
"I thought we were going to your apartment?" I say, puzzled, as the elevator starts to climb.
He shakes his head and looks at me out of the corner of his eye. I can see a touch of worry in his expression. I remember he'd said something about my own apartment, but for some reason I thought he would take me to his. He's been so protective of me these last couple of days; I can't imagine him letting me out of his sight.
Before I can question him further about it, the elevator comes to a halt. The bell chimes again and I notice that, in a completely subconscious move, I inch closer to Mikah so that I'm standing behind his right arm, shielding myself.
The doors open on a hallway that is only a couple feet wider than the elevator doors. I can see straight down to a window at the far end.
Mikah takes a step toward the door, tugging me by my hand, bringing me with him. I slowly follow behind him. The hallway is drab: nothing on the walls, and the carpet has some crazy red and gold pattern on it. It makes me dizzy looking at it, so I look straight ahead as I follow behind Mikah.
We approach two doors, one on either side of the hall. "Red and his wife, Maria, live there." He nods toward the door on the left. "These are the only two apartments on this floor, and you can only access it by key card or a security code." I feel a little more comfortable now, knowing it's secure. "Also, Connor will be manning the hallway until around midnight, then Andrew will take over until morning."
He places a key in the door on the right, turns the knob, pushes it open and ushers me in. I look around cautiously and he reassures me, "Red checked it after we left the hospital. There is no one in here."
I take a few steps inside. The floors are a beautiful, light-colored hardwood. There is a closed door immediately to the right. "The laundry room," Mikah says, opening the door. Inside are a washer and dryer and some shelves with detergent and dryer sheets on them.
He steps across the hall. "Here is one of the bathrooms. The other is off of the main bedroom." He turns on the light. The tile is a pretty royal blue, the cabinets and accents a light wood.
What catches my eye, though, is the big, deep tub that has a step up in order to get into it. There are two faucets to fill it up. The idea of a warm bath is very inviting.
He pulls back, clicking off the light, and we proceed further into the apartment. It opens up to the right into the kitchen, which is bigger than my entire apartment. It's been done in beautiful dark countertops and cabinets, not quite black, that make the silver appliances stand out. A breakfast bar that separates the hall from the kitchen has three bar-height chairs whose color matches the cabinets.
He moves on, opening a door directly across from the kitchen. "Here's the second bedroom."
I peek inside: deep blue carpet; a white dresser and some matching bedside tables; light blue walls; and pictures of beaches, beach houses and even one of a pretty lighthouse.
"This room can be used for anything you want. Add a bed...or a crib." I can't begin to imagine what the softness in his voice on the last word means, but it's comforting.
I pull back from the door. "It looks lovely."
He smiles in return and closes the door again. He leads me into the living room and I'm surprised by how comfortable the space looks. There is an oversized L-shaped couch with large pillows and deep seats, the kind you just want to curl up on all day. On the wall in front of the couch is a large TV, probably the largest I've ever seen. Below that is an entertainment center that houses two sleek black boxes that are probably for the cable and maybe a DVD player.
The coffee table between the couch and the TV is made of wood similar to that of the floor, and underneath the table is a pretty, deep purple rug that stands out against the light furniture.
On the other side of the couch, the curtains pulled back, is a large sliding glass door leading out to a patio, and beyond that, a view that has captured my attention. The balcony overlooks the river down below, and I can see a barge making its trek upriver. Even with the trees nearly bare from the cold, the view is still breathtaking.
I sense Mikah's eyes on me, but I don't pay him much attention as I walk around the couch, wanting to have a better look at the view.
The door slides open easily, and a rush of air sweeps into the apartment – not overly powerful, but strong enough to cause my body to shiver. I step out onto the balcony and just stand there, dazed by the beauty below.
After a few moments, I feel my heart skip a beat and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, then Mikah's hand on the small of my back.
"It's beautiful out here," I say, not wanting to pull my eyes away from the scene to look at him.
"This apartment has the best view. Come, I've got something else to show you."
I scowl at him. My heart pounds in my chest for reasons I don't quite understand, but I let him lead me back inside, his hand still resting on my lower back.
He reaches around and closes the door behind us. "Over here," he says, pointing toward a door on the wall opposite the TV I take a tentative step in that direction, unsure of why I'm hesitant now.
He reaches for the handle and pushes the door open.
FIVE
Beyond the door, the lights are on, low and warm. The room is decorated in purples: a purple comforter on the king-size bed, pillows in dark purples and lavenders, pale purple walls emitting the faint scent of new paint. Sitting in the middle of the pillows is a small bunch of what look like purple lilacs.
There are only three things in the room that aren’t purple: two lamps and the carpet. On either side of the bed, two chrome lamps with cream-colored shades help to give the room its warm ambiance. The carpet is a light, not-quite-white shag that looks very plush.
I want to feel it between my toes. I kick off my skimpy ballet flats, sensing Mikah's delight as I step over the threshold and onto the carpet.
Realization dawns. “This room, this apartment...it’s mine?” I ask quietly.
"Technically, I own it. However, it is yours for as long as you like."
Tears pool in my eyes as I take in what he's done. He knows that being on my own is important, but then he also knows that my living conditions were not great for me. Shame and gratitude wash over me in waves as I realize that Dr. Alston was right: no strings attached. If he wanted something in return, then I'd be in his apartment, but his giving me my own place proves even further that he really is only out to help me.
I feel him come up behind me. I turn quickly in his direction, throwing my arms around his waist.
"Whoa," he says, but I can hear his smile. "What's this for?"
I pull back slightly, unsure of what's come over me and afraid that I've overstepped some line, but his arms wrap around me, holding me to him, and I can no longer stop the silent tears from streaming down my cheeks.
"Thank you," I whisper.
His hand comes up to the back of my head. Gently, he strokes my hair, down my back, and for the first time, I feel a strong sense of comfort wash through me. I melt into his embrace.
The gravity of the last few days weighs heavily on my shoulders and my knees give out.
Mikah is quick to catch me as I let go. He reaches down and lifts me. I don't protest; the fight in me is gone. "Shhh, sweetheart, don't cry," he whispers, and I want to scream, to shout, to sob, to just break down. He
reaches down for something I can't see, shifts slightly, and then he’s pulling back the covers on the bed. He lays me down gently. I curl up into a ball, my back to him, and he slowly pulls the covers up to my chin.
He kisses the top of my head, then pulls back. I hear his jeans shift as he steps away, and his feet on the carpet, getting further away from me.
"Don't," I say through tears. "Don't leave."
I hear his sharp intake of breath. Then the door clicks closed. But the knob rattles as his hand comes away and he's walking toward me again.
I reach behind me and pull the covers back. He hesitates, and I turn my head to look at him. Worry and sadness mar his beautiful features. He's confused. I'm confused. I don't understand what is causing this need to have him close to me.
"Please," I say quietly, and his features thaw. Reaching down, he pulls the covers back a little further then climbs in, jeans and all. He turns so that he is closer to me, like last night. I roll back onto my side and his arm wraps around me. His other hand slides in under the soft feather pillow. He holds me close.
I tried to be strong. I tried to be everything I thought I needed to be for myself, and all that did was nearly get me killed. Again. Mikah was there to rescue me and nothing I can ever do in life will repay him for that. His generosity knows no bounds.
As he snuggles deeper into the bed, I realize that something is changing between us.
SIX
Walking. I'm still walking down the white hallway, though the opening seems to finally be getting closer. I'm suddenly reminded of what happened the last time, of the dark cave, the heat and screaming.
"Do not fear, you're safe."
Zirah?
"Yes?"
I don't understand.
"What don't you understand?"
Well, I'm here, in this hallway, walking toward something. Mikah, I believe.
"Yes, it is him. He’s waiting for you."
Give Me Desire (Reason Series) Page 2
