14. Psycho

Micah's head rested against my chest. She cuddled up to my side, wearing nothing except my shirt.

I was lost, completely overwhelmed. I was a part of her, all around her, fucking inside her. This wasn't just physical, the internal pivotal shift demanding more than I was willing to give, and fucking taking it anyway. We'd gone from nothing to everything in a matter of moments, the familiar inkling of fear creeping in, making itself known.

My fingers danced up and down her back. "You have to leave." Her brow furrowed before her eyes darted to the clock. Morning was quite a few hours away yet. "I don't mean right now. I mean for good, Micah."

She leant up on an elbow, her opposite hand tracing up my torso, searching for deceit. "You truly believe in what you're saying. I can feel it. I can also feel that you don't actually want me to."

"It doesn't matter what I want. It's about what I need, and I need you safe."

Her palm raised to turn my chin, trying to catch my stare. "I don't need you to do that. I'm responsible for my own safety." I tried to pry her hand away, but she tightened her grip instead. "Look at me," she snapped.

When our gazes finally met, her eyes were beaming with sincerity. And something else I wasn't ready to decipher.

A gaping hole widened in the pit of my stomach and the ever-present hopelessness of my situation pushed to the forefront. I shoved up from the bed, ripping myself from her addictive embrace, and repeatedly smashed my fist into the concrete wall.

When I was spent, I pressed my forehead against the cold bricks, dragging in gulping breaths. My throat was raw, as if I'd been screaming, the skin over my knuckles scraped and tarnished.

Warm, gentle hands roamed over my back, the soothing motion regulating my pulse. Arms banded tightly around my waist from behind until she was lined against my body. Micah didn't say a word, her touch and presence enough of a comfort to have my barrier crumbling to the fucking floor.

"It won't be long until he finds out about you, and I can't lose another person to him. I won't. It fucking kills me to say, but I can't protect you in here, and I also can't risk her. Not again."

"I'm not leaving," Micah said, so straightforward, so unbothered that her words completely rocked me. She didn't know the severity, the extent of my own imprisonment.

I spun in her arms and her chin settled on my sternum as she stared into my face with determined resolution.

"This isn't some softcore bullshit, Micah. This is my life. He destroyed my fucking life. Someone I looked up to as a father—someone I regarded as family—stole my sister and imprisoned her for something I did, and bought my silence and cooperation with her fate. Twelve months later and I'm no closer to saving Ava than I was back then."

I led Micah backwards to the stretcher, laid her out and crushed my whole weight down on her. I needed her to feel my energy, understand my intentions and recognise the reality of my position.

"He took from me the one person I truly loved in this world, the one person I was sworn to protect. If he finds out about you, finds out what you mean to me, you'll be next. Don't make me go through that again. Don't make me watch it happen. Please don't ask me to."

I huffed in surprise when Micah flipped me over, legs straddling my waist as a smug smile graced her lips. "I don't ask for anything, I take what I want. And I want you. If that means going on a rescue mission to save your sister, then that's what's going to happen, Psycho."

My lungs inflated, hands tightening on her thighs, an involuntary response to her ownership. Was it truly possible to have another ally, someone I could rely on to help me?

"Oh, so now I'm Psycho again?"

"When you piss me off, yeah. I'm offering you an out, babe. I'm offering you my help." I arched a brow. "I'm not going to preach to you about how honourable I am, ‘cause I'm not. I'm not a good human being, August." She released a light chuckle. "In all honesty, I'm a terrible human being. And I don't care. Every terrible deed I have ever done has been in the service of my family, and I'd do it again a million times over."

That's when I realised I had grossly underestimated the danger of this girl. She could cut my throat right now and I'd probably praise her. My dick hardened in agreement.

"Why does that make you horny?" She chuckled.

"Because terrible is my type of aphrodisiac, baby, and you just called straight to my libido," I groaned, laying her down on her side and cuddling up behind her.

If she wasn't careful, I was going to fuck her into a stupor. I didn't want that for her when I couldn't promise more of myself. Not there, not right then.

Although. it didn't help when her ass kept pushing back against my restrained dick. Placing a hand on her hip, I stopped her driving movements. "Behave, Golden Girl. Sleep."

"Hmph." By my command, her muscles settled amid the warmth of my body curling around hers. The gentle rise and fall of her chest evened and I dug my nose into the base of her neck, drowning in her scent.

MICAH

August's fingers were interlocked with mine. We hadn't slept, preferring to utilise the limited time we had together.

"August Mathers?"

He snickered, the vibration radiating up my spine. "Hmm. I was born in August. My parents lacked any imagination, it seems."

"And Ava Mathers is your sister. Is there anyone else?"

August flinched, shocked to hear his sister's name spoken aloud. A name he was willing to defend against all others.

August was still ruminating on the change in our relationship. We didn't have a label (nor did we need one), though he was in borderline panic mode from the amount of vital information he had already surrendered.

Our trust was too natural, our reliance too easy. He was waiting for the kicker to roundhouse him in the face.

I waited. This was an internal battle he had to fight on his own. Then his resolution progressively hardened and he chose to trust in me.

Pressing a kiss to my shoulder blade, he relented. August chose to trust in us.

"Our parents were killed when I was fifteen years old, my sister thirteen." He paused, dragging in a breath. "Fuck, I need a cigarette," he muttered.

My thumb stroked the palm of his hand. I still found it remarkable how my Variant and body accepted him so fully, so wholeheartedly. I couldn't risk over-analysing our connection, or we'd both go insane.

We'd settled into a quiet contentment, freely surrendering the innermost darkest recesses of ourselves, for the other to take and safely keep.

"We didn't have anyone else. After they were gone, I didn't want Ava and I to be separated in the foster system, so we ran away to live on the streets."

"I was always good at fighting, so I naturally gravitated to the Caverns and made a name for myself, gaining as much power, money and stability as I could. I was her big brother and I wanted to—would—do anything to protect her. Which meant I was inducted into the Ludus Maximus at eighteen. I believed my initiation would give me everything I needed to keep her safe." He shuffled closer, burying his face in my hair. "Instead, the person I sought refuge with used her against me."

His experience was difficult for him to convey. I was certain that he'd never had to articulate his tragic past into words.

Although he spoke the truth, he'd given a simplified version, the complicated traumatic memories sending his emotional state spiralling. I squeezed his hand in comfort, all too familiar with the same emotions aching inside me.

For August to give up anything at all was a small spark of hopeful light, and with it I wanted to give him the world.

"Did you find the person responsible?" My gaze flicked over my shoulder with the underlying question. Did you kill them?

"Not yet, but I will."

I bumped my nose against his. "I understand." Above all others, I truly did understand.

I whispered a promise against his lips and he released a tremor. "I will find her for you, August."

"How?" he murmured. I could feel a wisp of doubt, his resistance to hope for what he had yearned for, for so long.

My mouth lifted into an obnoxious smirk and I flicked the middle of his forehead. "I am Micah King. Put some respect on my motherfucking name." His small hint of doubt simultaneously dissolved into amused disbelief, and a healthy splash of fear. I cackled like the mad woman I was, his worries leaving him, if only for a minute.