“Are you going to kill her boyfriends—all of them?” he sneered.
Evidently D’Angelo had been following the tabloids and was referring to Ryan and Sadarius. Micah knew that the stories weren’t true. Not that Sadarius wouldn’t like to be with her, that was obvious, but Micah had kept a careful eye on the two of them. He could tell Leese wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. “I don’t think she could forgive me for that, but all I want is to confront her about why she left me and beg her to come back.”
D’Angelo had an expression that was difficult to read, it seemed to be a cross between fear and disgust, “Begging hardly seems your caliber, Micah.”
“It depends on what’s at stake—she is worth begging for.”
“So you’re telling me after you confront her, no matter how this turns out, you will come see me and finish what I need done?”
“I’m finishing this season’s shows. Just what do you need?” Micah said with his suspicions exposed about what D’Angelo was really after this time.
“You’re taking out a boss.”
“No,” came immediately out of his mouth. The boss was the very head of the family; a man to be respected at all times and to be obeyed at all costs. D’Angelo wasn’t second in line so what could he possibly benefit by taking out the head of the family?
“Not the head of our family,” he clarified. “There is another family that is receptive to uniting with us, but their Boss is against it. It won’t be easy, but you’ve handled things more complicated.”
“Which family?” There was something very wrong in all of this and Micah wanted to know who was behind it.
“No need to give out too many details right now. No one else could be trusted to do this for me and I won’t give up if the family has to convene again about letting you out. I don’t need to remind you about your secrets.”
“They’re your secrets, too.”
“Don’t threaten me, Micah. You aren’t that valuable.”
“Evidently I am,” Micah stated finishing his meal. He stood from the table and downed the last of his glass of wine, “I will finish what I’m doing with this show which, by the way, has proven to pay out more than anything I’ve ever made with the mob.”
“Sit down, Micah.”
Micah seemed to be locked at the knees.
“Sit,” D’Angelo reiterated.
Micah slowly lowered himself back in the chair as D’Angelo poured him another glass of wine, “So, you’ve aroused my interest. You’ve done well with the show. How good has the investment been?”
“I’ve tripled my money—so far.”
D’Angelo finally smiled, “I will admit your little whor—girlfriend,” he corrected, “is an excellent singer. She may have a future doing this. Did you know all along she could sing?”
“I heard her sing just days after I got the job to kill her. She thrives on music and I even used an iPod when I proposed to her.”
D’Angelo’s eyebrows went up, “Really? You recorded your proposal?”
“No,” Micah said shaking his head, “I downloaded one song that told her how I felt about her and then had it delivered. I waited to see what her reaction would be before I approached her and proposed.”
D’Angelo was giving his evil half smile, “I never knew you had a romantic side.”
Micah’s pulse was picking up and he could feel the cool sweat coming over him, “Murder doesn’t lend to that emotion.”
“On the contrary, Micah. You should remember that murder is the highest crime of passion. Remember that when you catch up to her.”
He didn’t like the remark, nor the insinuation, “There is no passion in making a mark, not anymore anyway.”
Their meeting ended abruptly as Micah’s pulse continued to rise.
When she ran out of the party, Micah called for his private plane to be fueled and ready. He was possessed with the need to get to her and find out why she was willing and then suddenly chose Ryan. It was late, but he would make sure a car would be waiting for him at the Colorado Springs airport in the morning. But before leaving, he needed to rest. He was still feeling the ill effects from lunch. It was worth investigating, and he wouldn’t put it past D’Angelo to poison him. He was valuable alive, but there were reasons for D’Angelo to eliminate him as well.
Micah pulled out a familiar black case and opened the bag pulling out a hypodermic and a rubber strap. He tied off the band, using his teeth to pull it tight and then plunged the needle into his vein, filling the syringe quickly. He wouldn’t waste time getting it to a lab now, but he knew the blood would say usable for at least five days. He wrote a short note and wrapped it around the syringe, then opened his office refrigerator and carefully placed it out of view. If anything should happen to him, David would find the note and the vial; D’Angelo would pay.
By 7 a.m., Micah was ready to leave. He had all the information he needed. She had one home in Colorado Springs in Ryan’s name and one in her own. He would try her address first. He wasn’t sure if he should trust himself to bring his guns, especially not with the odd effects he was still feeling, but he didn’t debate it long as he strapped on the harness.
He developed a new symptom as he sat in the quiet cabin area of the jet. He looked down and noticed his hands were shaking. He was starting to wonder if what he was feeling was actually a case of nerves. He’d been rock-steady his whole life and now, when he needed composure, he had the shakes. He opened the bar and stared at the bottles of alcohol. Surely she would smell it on his breath, but he needed something to stop the tremors as he poured himself a Jack and Coke that was mostly Jack. The cold sweats had returned as his trembling hand lifted the glass to his lips and he chugged down what he really didn’t want to drink. His emotions were slipping beyond his control as he fought the urge to grab the bottle and lose every ounce of reason he possessed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sunrise on Sunday morning found me on the pool deck watching the sky change colors over the white landscape. I had determined that I wasn’t going to back out of Remake. There were only three days until the final show, and I would finish what I’d started. But I would question Don first and make sure all the voting results hadn’t been tainted by the ‘owner’ trying to keep me on the show.
I hadn’t slept at all last night, but I needed some rest before Ryan showed after church. I knew it would be just the two of us; he wouldn’t bring Candace. I grabbed the most recent tee-shirt that he’d given me and crawled into the bed, willing my aching heart to sleep.
I woke to a strange noise just before twelve. It sounded as if someone was in the house, but it was too early for Ryan to show up unless he skipped out on the worship service. I got up and glanced in the mirror. I still had dark circles under my eyes from crying so much last night.
“Ryan?” I called out as I emerged into the living room.
“He’s not here,” came a male voice from my kitchen area.
I screamed before I could stifle it as I turned and saw Micah standing inside my house. “Wha—what are you doing in here?”
“I came to see you,” he stated as if I should have expected him.
This wasn’t good. Ryan would be showing up in the next fifteen to twenty minutes and I could clearly see by his unzipped jacket that he was armed. I would have to be strong and I would have to get rid of him in a hurry. I couldn’t show any weakness and I couldn’t fall as easily as I did when I ended up in his arms last night.
“You need to leave,” I was trying to be firm, but not panicked.
“Why? Last night you were ready for me to take you and now you want me to go away?”
I studied his eyes. I could tell the level of danger by watching those green barometers. He was on an edge; anger was in place of the deadly emptiness that I feared more than anything.
“Please, leave Micah. We settled this last night.”
He began moving toward me as I backed slowly.
“Nothing was settled last night, Leese
. You wanted me, you needed me, and then you ran away. All I want is to know why? Why Ryan? I don’t believe you love him.”
“Don’t doubt that, Micah. I do love him.”
“More than me?”
I could feel the stab to my heart, “I’m here.”
I couldn’t back anymore as I had reached the couch and was ready to turn and move around it when he swiftly reached out and grabbed my arm.
“Don’t keep walking away from me.”
I could smell his breath and I knew he’d been drinking. He wasn’t drunk, but he was definitely not in his right mind. I had never seen Micah in this state, and fear was spiking inside me as I desperately tried to remain calm. “Please,” I re-asked. “Please don’t do this—I need you to leave.”
“Will he be home soon, Leese? What did he do? Did he go out to get you something to eat? Did you get your thrills with him last night?” He was so close to going over the edge, it was almost visible.
“Out! I want you out now,” I demanded with a shaky voice.
He grabbed my upper arms so hard that I could feel the bruising as he jerked me to his chest, covering my mouth with his. I could taste the alcohol; I could taste the hate and the need he had to kill someone. I pushed hard against his chest, breaking the kiss and slapping his cheek. It was as if I had placed the blade to my chest just as in my nightmare. To hurt him, was to kill myself.
I could see my reaction stunned him and then he seemed to unravel with fury as the back of his hand hit me hard in the face and I flew backward onto the coffee table sending the items on the table scattering. I rolled off the table to the floor and covered my cheek with my hand. It had been a powerful hit and it stung horribly. I could taste the blood in my mouth.
I was rising from the floor when I looked back into his eyes. I couldn’t tell who he was. He had given into the animal part of himself and he didn’t care that I had just been knocked across the room.
“Tell me why you left me,” he growled, snatching me by the wrist with a steel grip.
I tried to twist out of the weakest part of his hold, but at the moment there were no weaknesses. Again he was trying to kiss me, but his mouth was so hard and unyielding that I could feel my lips being cut by my teeth as he slammed into me.
“Stop it, Micah, please,” I begged as I pushed away from him.
“Why? Don’t you like this, baby,” he said mocking me. “Is that it, Leese? Is he better in bed than I am?” He was grabbing at my body roughly as I struggled with him. “Maybe you just need a refresher?” He grabbed the front of my blouse and quickly ripped it open. I could hear my buttons skittering across the floor.
I was crying out for him to stop, but I could tell he wasn’t hearing my pleas as he pushed me violently back onto the couch. I was no longer dealing with Micah; I was dealing with pure rage. I was shocked that he was actually undoing his jeans as I rolled from the couch and scrambled on all fours to try to get away. He grabbed me brutally by my calves and jerked me back.
“No!” I screamed at him as he flipped me onto my back. I was kicking and sliding backwards as he continued to grab at me as if I was nothing more than a piece of meat. He was bruising my thighs as he pulled me to him. He lowered himself toward me and I took the only opening I had to punch toward his face. I was aiming for his nose, hoping to stun him enough that I could get out before his weight came down on me, but he was too skilled of a fighter as he turned his face and I hit his rock-hard jaw. His hand came around my throat and tightened so hard I thought he would crush my windpipe. He slapped my face twice, open handed, but shockingly hard.
I was passing out. I couldn’t breathe. His hand moved just before I lost consciousness. I gasped and sputtered for air. Then he was on me, his weight crushing my already air deprived lungs. He was tearing the last of my clothes and under garments, my body screaming in pain as the elastic on my bra cut into my skin. Then he was biting me, not the way he used to when he would make love to me, but literally sinking his teeth into skin. I was crying and pleading for him to stop. I was saying his name over and over, hoping it would shake him out of his inhuman state before he did the unthinkable.
It was too late. I screamed out in pain as his body tore into mine. I wasn’t prepared for his entrance and even if I had been, his aim was skewed and my body seemed to split under the punching drive of his hips. His massive hands were gripping my shoulders too hard and it felt as if he had bruised every inch of my body has he raped me on the floor.
I was convulsing with sobs, as the violence slowed. The rage was releasing its hold over him and he began to call out my name. He was becoming controlled as he found his rhythm inside me. “Leese, Leese, I’m sorry,” he cried, tears now coursing down his face as he continued to bring himself back to the human side. “I love you, baby—I’m so sorry—I need you so badly—please, please don’t cry.” He lifted slightly as he looked into my bloody, shocked face. His mouth came down again, but this time softly, kissing my eyes and my cheeks, my chin and my mouth.
My body was starting to respond to what was now turning gentle. I didn’t want to let my physical side win this battle, because that was what it had been, but the needs I’d had stored away for so long were now being brought to life.
His mouth was begging me to part my lips and respond. With tears rolling down my cheeks, I accepted the kiss; the taste of my blood mixing with the flavor of the alcohol. His hips were grinding so deliberately and I couldn’t fight the feeling any longer as I cried out and thrust my hips upward to meet his strokes. He cried out at the same moment and we crested together.
I didn’t want to open my eyes and look at him as he observed the damage he’d done to me. “God, Leese, why did it have to be this way?” he said with a stunned, choked sob, “I never meant… I didn’t want to hurt—”
At that moment, I heard the sound of the Javelin and terror flooded me. Micah raised himself, pulling up and refastening his jeans. His human side simply vanished as his eyes went blank; he reached in his jacket and pulled out his pistol.
“No,” I begged, gripping his arm, the gun pointing dangerously toward me, “Don’t hurt him, Micah. I swear if you hurt him then you might as well kill me right now.”
His eyes were still blank as I heard the engine turn off. He looked up and then looked back at me.
I grabbed the barrel and pressed it to my chest. “Go ahead,” I choked, “pull the trigger, Micah, because I won’t live if you hurt him.”
“I—I can’t.”
My finger went into the trigger guard and I was poised to finish this.
“Don’t Leese,” he said pushing the safety back on with his other hand, “He’s not worth it, is he?”
“He’s worth every breath left in my body. Take his life and you’ve ended mine, too.”
I could hear as the key was turning in the lock. Micah was up and away from me in an instant, the gun still gripped in his hand. The scream strangled in my throat as Ryan opened the door and Micah jerked him inside and slammed him against the wall so hard I thought he would knock him out.
Ryan’s eyes blinked a couple times, not really understanding what had just happened. The gun went against his head as Micah spewed out the two most bitter words I’d ever heard in my life.
“Your turn,” he growled, then slammed his shoulder into Ryan’s chest, knocking the air out of him and then letting him fall to the floor. Micah was out the door. A car cranked and I heard it screech away from the house.
“Leese?” he coughed and gasped out my name.
I was so relieved that Micah hadn’t killed him that I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move from where I’d been drilled to the floor; my body beginning to cramp and burn and ache.
Ryan rose, shaking his head as if he was trying to bring his brain back to life. He looked toward the couch and he saw me. I think he thought at the moment I was dead, because the look on his face was horror struck. He rushed to my side as the ability to sob returned to me. I didn’t want him to see me str
ipped down naked, but there was nothing left of my clothes to cover me.
“Oh, God, baby girl, oh, God—what the hell did he do to you?” he said reaching under me as gently as possible and picking me up from the floor. He carried me to the bedroom, tears pouring down his face as he laid me down and used the corner of the sheet to cover my body.
“That son-of-a-bitch is going to jail,” he snarled, grabbing his cell and flipping it open.
“No,” I choked, reaching out and stopping him, “No cops—please, I don’t want anyone to know,”
“You’ve… God, Leese, you’ve got to go to the hospital. You’re bleeding, baby girl, pretty bad. I—I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll be okay—I just need—”
“Leese, I’m freaking out here—I don’t know what to do to help you.”
“I—I—need to wash off and get some clothes. Can you help me to the bathroom?” I pleaded, the pain growing stronger and I was starting to double over.
He removed the sheet and reached underneath me as I wrapped my arms feebly around his neck. He lowered me into the tub and turned on the warm water, allowing the tub to fill as he used a washcloth to clean my face and neck. He was crying his eyes out as he washed each cut, bruise, and bite mark. He worked lower, but I took the washcloth away from his trembling hand and I washed my most private area. It stung so badly to clean the tear. He drained the pink water and helped me stand as he wrapped me in a towel and carried me back to the bed, placing me on the opposite side to avoid the stained sheets and then went to the dresser.
He returned with a button up the front top and a pair of underwear.
“I need a—a pad. Would you get me one from under the bathroom sink?”
He returned and helped me swing my legs over the side of the bed as I slipped on the underwear and placed the pad inside and pulled them up. He took the bloody sheet away and came back with a fresh blanket and covered me up, crawling in behind me and trying to find a way to hold me that wouldn’t cause me any further pain.
02 Unforgivable - Untouchable Page 31
