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Chapter 23

TWENTY-THREE

The truth will set you free.

I've heard the saying time and time again, but I mull over the words now, dissecting them, wondering if they're true. Do I feel set free? Or is the weight of the truth too overwhelming?

I realize I haven't taken a breath when I feel Micah's hands on me. He moves to stand in front of me, breaking my attention away from the front door, where I saw my brother disappear seconds ago.

Micah's hands wrap hold of my face, grounding me. I gasp, allowing a sharp breath of air into my lungs when I look at him.

"Are you okay, Addy?"

His words echo in my ears, but all I hear is the rushing sound of water, the sound flooding my ears, protecting me from the outside world. The burn from holding my breath permeates my lungs.

"Addy?"

I blink my swollen eyes, the tears drying on my hot cheeks.

"Yeah," I croak, working around the emotion in my voice. "I'm okay. I just need a moment." I look at Micah, and my heart breaks again for what he sacrificed. It aches thinking about every day he spent in prison carrying the truth with him. The truth of his innocence.

My brain works around the facts and all the unknowns I have yet to learn.

"How?" I ask him. "How could you have let the police believe you did this?"

"It wasn't difficult for them to believe." He shrugs. "Like I said, I'm a Harding. I'd already built a reputation of petty crime, then add my father's name and reputation in this city, and you have the perfect suspect. Archer has been my best friend for nearly two decades. He was there for me when I needed him most." He runs his thumbs over my cheeks. Over the dried tears. "I didn't hesitate in letting them believe it was me. I didn't fight back or argue that the bag wasn't mine. I let them believe it because I care for Archer. And I care for you. I didn't want your family to have the same reputation as mine. I know what that life is like, and you and Archer don't deserve it."

I inhale a shaky breath, a round of fresh tears burning my eyes.

"But it cost you everything." I look into his eyes. "Your life, your relationship, everything. Something like that doesn't ever leave your record." My heart hammers, the fractured pieces rattling against my ribs. The amount of love I feel from Micah is indescribable. Words I feel but can't voice.

Every moment shared with him up until this moment living in the truth begins to click. Why he said it's never mattered what he wanted. His trouble in seeing this house as anything other than a dying dream. I get it, and I wish I could fix the way he's viewed the world, as if it's wronged him but by his own hand. Almost as if he's fallen on his own sword.

"Adeline." His voice saying my name sounds so sweet, and I melt into it, closing my eyes, allowing myself to feel it.

"I need you to look at me when I tell you this," he pleads.

I slowly open my eyes. My legs feel numb, almost as if they aren't keeping me grounded. All I can focus on is Micah's hands on my face, and his eyes staring into mine.

"You gave up everything," I repeat, my voice cracking. "You gave up everything thinking you were protecting me."

"Ten years ago, you said you didn't need me to save you. Or anyone to save you. But I can't help it, Adeline. I would save you over and over again if it meant you were safe and felt well-loved. My feelings for you were different back then. I was protecting you because you were my best friend's little sister. You're his family. You and Archer are my family. But now you've blossomed into something more, and now that I know how I feel about you, I don't regret a single moment in jail. I only regret that if I had turned in your dad, it would have saved you years of heartache."

I think back to that day at the pool, the words I'd told him ringing in my ears.

I don't need you to save me. I don't need anyone to save me.

My vision was red when I spouted off to him. I meant those words then, but now, looking into Micah's eyes, I realize they've taken on a new meaning.

"I was a foolish girl back then with a foolish dream, and I only said that to you because I was embarrassed." I need Micah to understand the evolution of my feelings for him. "You were the boy I dreamed of being with but knew I could never have. You were my brother's best friend and twelve years older. I used to doodle my name with your last name in hearts, for God's sake. And when you pulled me out of that pool, I wanted to die of embarrassment. What I really should have done was thanked you. You were the one thing I looked forward to during the summer. You were the light in my dark world."

Micah's loyalty runs deep—deeper than I could have ever imagined—because the fall he took to save Archer wasn't an easy one to take, and the sacrifice he made that day for Archer was one that will forever leave a mark on his life.

"I spent two years in prison thinking about what I'd done, the choice I made," he says. "There were days I regretted giving in as easily as I did. I cursed myself for not putting up a fight or standing my ground. But I don't think I realized the weight of my decision until I heard those cell bars close. One day I was flying from London back home, the next I'm lying in my jail cell, wearing a bright orange jumpsuit. I'd lost my identity; a prisoner identification number stamped across the chest. I'd given up my life for your brother's. For yours." His thumbs gently run under my eyes, catching the tears I can't seem to shut off. But I don't want them to stop. They're a reminder of how hard I've fallen for Micah.

He leans forward and brings his mouth close to mine. His fingers thread through my still-wet hair. My back is wet, too, and my shirt clings to my skin, but I don't care.

"I gave up my life back then for you, Addy," he adds. "And I'm so sorry it ended up doing the opposite of what I wanted for you. If I had known..." He shakes his head.

"Don't apologize." I grip his shirt, fisting the fabric, hoping I don't wake up. The reality of my brother's crimes weigh on me. I haven't been able to wrap my head around the damage he's caused. If I do, I'm afraid I'll fall apart.

For now, I'll cling onto Micah.

"You can't blame yourself for what you didn't know, just like Archer can't. I don't hold it against him, and I don't hold it against you. You care about Archer, and that's why you did what you did. You have a massive, protective heart, Micah Harding. Don't ever apologize for it." I press my forehead to his and look down at my hands. His mouth ghosts mine, and my heart races. Heat radiates down the length of my body, and every breath of his that passes my lips injects life deep in my bones, down to the marrow.

His hands are still wrapped around my face when he pulls me to look at him, somehow keeping his mouth impossibly close.

"I love you, Addy."

He whispers the words I used to dream of hearing, and I feel all four feather across my skin before he steals my mouth into a kiss, and I sob into it. I melt into him and, fuck, every kiss is a solvent to my open wounds.

"I love you, too," I say back, meaning every single word.

It took a ton of convincing for Micah to finally agree to go to Connecticut with Lennon. He didn't want to leave me, especially after the situation with Archer. But I know how important this visit to the pharmaceutical factory was to his brother, and I didn't want him missing out on it because he's worried about me.

Four days have passed since we watched Archer walk out the front door. I've messaged him telling him I'd love to meet up and talk with him about everything when he has the chance.

He said he will make it right with Soren, and I'm not entirely certain what that means. Fear for my brother's safety plays in my mind. I'm angry with him for allowing Micah to take the fall for him all those years ago. Micah made the ultimate sacrifice for his friend, yet Archer hasn't been the best support for Micah since he was released. If anything, my brother hasn't been able to dig himself out of the hole he's gotten himself into. Over the past four days, I've tried to place myself in my brother's shoes. My father's influence as both our father and District Attorney is strong. If Archer felt he was drowning in his business, I don't blame him for going to our father for help. But at some point, the water became too high for Archer to swim in. The waves of the drug trade my father had pulled him into became too turbulent. Eventually, Archer struggled to stay afloat. Then like the current, the tide constantly shifted, pulling him farther adrift from the shore. Archer must not have been able to find a way back. A way out. Once he pulls himself out just a little, he gets sucked right back in, deeper every time.

I'm waiting for Archer's message when Micah's name flashes across the screen. I immediately answer, my stomach fluttering with excitement, despite the thunder crackling outside—a prelude to the storm coming.

"Hey, everything okay?" he's quick to ask me. His paranoia about my safety is over the top but sweet.

I smile, humbled by his protective streak. I love it, and I love him.

I giggle. "Everything is fine. Where are you now?"

"We're about forty-five minutes out from the house. I should have driven myself, but Lennon insisted Ray take us together. I told him to run through every red light once we get off the highway and to drive at least twenty over the speed limit just to get there faster." He laughs.

"Please don't do that." My cheeks turn red. "A storm is coming, and the last thing I need is for you to get into an accident. Tell Ray to obey all traffic laws."

I stand in front of the kitchen sink and rinse my coffee mug from this morning. I see my reflection through the glass of the window overlooking the backyard. It's out of focus, and I still have yet to look myself dead in the mirror, but I'm getting closer.

Every day I put my past in the rearview mirror, the more I'm embracing my new life. I'm learning to fall in love with myself again and learn who I want to be. After Archer showed up the other day, I've gotten a better sense of those around me. Not everything in my life is painted in black and white. It doesn't have to be. My life can be full of color even when surrounded by truth.

I feel whole and complete with Micah. His house has become our house, and I've never felt more at peace than I do here with him.

Micah lowers his voice, whispering into the phone. His voice in my ear sends shivers down my spine. "I can't wait to get back to you and bury myself in you. I'm going to fuck you so long and hard, I'll make it so you'll never want to leave our bed."

Our bed.

My heart flutters in my chest as another round of thunder rolls through the sky. The trees begin to violently sway, the moon hanging overhead casting a white glow on the backyard.

I grip the edge of the counter. "I can't wait for you to come home, either."

"I heard that," Lennon mumbles in the background. "Did you forget I'm sitting right next to you? On the side you're holding the phone?"

I laugh again as the lights in the kitchen flicker. I look up at the ceiling, and they flash a few more times before shutting off completely.

"Oh shit." I groan.

"What is it?"

"The power just went out."

"Fuck." Micah sighs.

"I'm fine," I reassure him, trying my best to stay calm. "The storm is getting worse, but it's not like I can't handle a little power outage."

I know he worries about me—mostly because he's worried the risk of Soren is still present—but the security system Micah put in place several weeks ago has worked. The fence surrounding the property offers more protection along with the cameras.

"There's a generator on the side of the house," he tells me. "It should kick in any minute. The security system is also programmed to run even when the main source of power gives out."

"Good," I breathe out, relieved. The wind howls outside, blowing against the side of the house. I stand on my tiptoes, peering up at the night sky.

Micah left this morning, but it takes more than two hours to drive down to Connecticut from where we live, and when you factor in Boston traffic, you can count on adding another hour. Going to Connecticut wasn't going to be a quick day trip. It's already past nine, and he still isn't back.

But since he didn't want to leave me as it was, Micah made sure the security system was put in place the best he could. We're still waiting on the front gate to be installed, but we at least have the other systems installed. It's better than it was before.

Dark clouds roll over the blanket of midnight blue, covering the moon. I'm still leaning over the counter, peering up, when another round of thunderclaps erupt, followed by bolts of lightning. I jump, and my breath catches in my throat.

Micah's in my ear replaying his whole tour of the pharmaceutical factory. I've gathered and understood bits and pieces of his story, only partially listening. The lights haven't turned back on yet, though, and I'm wondering if it takes longer than Micah said it would.

"The lights haven't come back on yet, Micah." I don't want to sound too paranoid because that will only worry him more than he already is. "I don't think the generators kicked on yet. Isn't it supposed to be by now?"

"That's strange." He clears his throat. I can tell he's nervous. "It should be on."

"It's fine. There are candles in my bedroom. I'll go grab them and use those. The battery on my phone is charged enough, so I'm not worried about it dying before you get home."

"Okay," he says. "Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"If it makes you feel better." I smile to myself.

"It does."

My cheeks heat, and my body aches for his. I imagine the warmth of his body against mine, the feel of his hardened muscles under my fingers. I'm imagining his kiss, but then another crack of thunder rolls above, this time it's louder, and shakes the house.

I'm still looking out the window when a sharp bolt of lightning strikes one of the trees still violently swaying with the wind. Then without warning, a torrent of rain falls. Heavy sheets of it pour down in weighted sheets, the sound drowning out the thunder above. I'm scanning the backyard when my gaze falls on the garden box.

Puddles form in the dirt, with water spilling over the sides. The rain is falling so hard and so fast, the soil is splashing over the top. Having just planted the seeds yesterday, the soil is fragile.

"Oh, fuck, the garden box." I hiss, running to the back door.

"What about it?" Micah asks.

Pressing the phone between my shoulder and cheek, I slip on each of my garden boots. "I need to cover the garden box or else it'll flood."

"Addy," Micah sighs while I slip each of my arms into my coat. "Don't worry about the garden box. You can replant the seeds again."

"I can't. I've worked so hard on it."

I push through the back door, allowing the screen to slam shut behind me. The metal bangs against the doorframe as I dash from out underneath the covered patio. I pick up the folded blue tarp I placed in the corner by my garden supplies and stand at the edge of the patio. I'm already out of breath, preparing myself to quickly run out into the yard.

"Micah, I have to go."

"No, Addy. Don't hang up." His voice cuts in and out, the phone losing signal.

"I'm not yet." I still have my phone pressed to my cheek and the hood of my raincoat pulled over my head. "But I need to get this covered or else all my work will have been for nothing. It'll only take a second. I just need to drape the tarp over the box so the seeds don't drown."

"Addy," Micah growls in frustration. He knows how stubborn I am when it comes to my projects. I already lost out on the furniture. I don't want to give up on this, either.

"I'll keep you on the phone," I tell him, running out into the yard. My feet pound into the puddles flooding the yard. Rain pelts my back and head, and by the time I've made it to the garden box, my legs are soaking wet up past my calves.

I'm quick to unfold the tarp, keeping my phone pressed against my shoulder. It would have been easier if I'd ended my call with Micah, but it's too late for that now. Lightning strikes again, and a figure in the distance catches my attention.

The tarp is only half unfolded when my breath catches in my throat.

"Adeline?" Micah asks.

"Wait." Another round of thunder crashes, and lightning strikes. Flashes of bright light shine across the backyard, highlighting the shadowy figure stalking toward me. I can't tell who he is from this distance. My legs are frozen in place, unable to move. An icy chill slithers down the back of my neck as he grows closer. I hear Micah's voice in my ear again, but he's choppy and unintelligible now.

The man continues walking toward me. Stiffly, his arms are at his sides, and his boots pound into the soaking wet ground. I drop the tarp when he reaches the opposite side of the garden box. He moves around it and begins walking toward me again.

His face is covered in shadows, making him unrecognizable, but from what I can tell, he's tall and broad shouldered, towering over me.

I open my mouth, and the sounds of my heavy, quick breaths are drowned out by the rushing rain.

"Adeline!" Micah yells, cutting out again. "Tell me what's going on!"

"Someone…" I swallow, slowly starting to back away.

"What?" Micah asks. His voice fades when the phone slips from under my cheek. It falls from out under the hood of my coat and into the garden box.

I take another step back, but the man is quick to catch up to me, and my breath is stolen from my lungs when his face finally comes into view.

His name barely falls from my lips before a sharp pain hits my cheek and I meet the cold, hard ground. Then the world fades to black.

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