Page 20 of Saints

At first, Michael stood at the base of the bed. Trained eyes scanned the room and rested on the window on the eastern side. A fluid movement pulled a chair in front of me, and as Michael took his seat, his arms folded over his chest. His quiet suffocated me entirely, but there was no ignoring the desperation in my throat.

If I wanted to know how much danger I was in, I had to learn more.

If I wanted to get out of here, I needed to get him talking.

“A cop here on patrol would have searched the house.” His expression remained still, eyes trained on my face. “Is he in on this?”

Emotion flashed over him. A hiss escaped gritted teeth, and my body shivered. His eyes held the same disgust as they did the other day— when he insisted that he saved me, when he promised that he was the only one who had ever helped me. My eyes fell back to my food.

“Just fucking eat, Birdie.” That name, the one I wouldn’t let another person alive call me, jerked my attention up. Michael’s face softened. “I don’t have all night.”

“Michael, if you really think someone did this, then maybe the police should handle it.” His eyes settled to my lips, and despite a twisting stomach, I tried again. “It could be dangerous and—”

“Dangerous for who?” Dark eyes sewed my lips shut. “I’ve already explained to you what’s going to happen.”

The desperation worked better than the meds. When my chest tightened, I placed the food back down on my plate— an action which sent his shoulders back up around his ears.

“I can’t stay here. My mom needs me. She’s sick.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“She needs me, Michael. I can’t—”

Even if I didn’t know the signs, I was sure I could have felt the change. That twist in him, that change, was the same one I saw as a kid. His eyes darkened impossibly, and his scoff left me recoiling.

“Sheneedsyou? What the fuck are you going to do for her?” This time, my golden eyes wouldn’t stop him. I didn’t think anything would. “The one night I leave you alone and you drive your fucking car into a tree. You can’t even help yourself.”

I wouldn’t look at him. I wouldn’t watch him the way I used to, wouldn’t wait for the guilt that followed the storm. Instead, my eyes fell to my lap. If there was a flash of the old Michael in there, I didn’t want to see it. I wasn’t ready to see his face in the mouth of the monster.

Reality didn’t come until I heard him move in front of me. Steady hands removed the plate from my lap, and when his fingers wrapped around my bicep, even the pain in my side faded. For a moment, at least. A simple tug had me back on my own feet, but his cologne wouldn’t block out the ache for long. Michael’s hand rested on my back as he led me towards the bathroom, and when that awful ache took over, I couldn’t help the way that my body caved into him. His shirt balled in my grip as he pushed me forward.

The pain felt like it was tightening my skull, like there wasn’t enough room for protest anymore. All I wanted to do anymore was be left alone. When Michael’s hands rested on the backs of my thighs, when he lifted me back onto the counter and settled between my legs, I didn’t fight him the way I did before. He wouldn’t look up to me as his fingers looped under my shirt again, but when he pulled the fabric higher, something different churned my stomach.

Was that what it felt like to be nervous?

Was that what I felt at the library?

Before my cheeks could tint, I batted his hand away. As I lifted my shirt for him, I reminded myself that to Michael, this wasn’t personal. He made his decision when he left me all those years ago, didn’t he? There was no reason for my thighs to tighten when his fingers grazed the bandage at my side. There was no reason for my heart to stop when his fingers tugged the waist of my pants down so gently, grazing sensitive flesh.

I wouldn’t glance back at my reflection. I didn’t have to. I was sure my cheeks were burning the same way they did that night at the library. All those nights of promises were broken in a single glance, in one touch. That hunger was something the fear could never dwell, and as Michael worked away on my side, I wondered if he knew the truth just as deeply as I did. If he asked me to, I was sure I could moan for him like I did that night. If he wanted to, he could make me cum like he did before. When he pulled away, the doubt settled in.

He’s just doing this to protect himself.

He’s only doing this because I was his best alibi.

My eyes squeezed shut as we worked the bandage off my body and started to wash the wound. If I didn’t look at him, it was easier to convince myself that he was a monster, that he wasn’t the same man I met. For now, that would have to be good enough.

“You need to tell me what happened.”

My nose wrinkled. “You already know.”

I didn’t have to peek my eyes open to know the shiver that ran over him, but I wasn’t sure I could stop myself anymore. After his admission yesterday, the truth that Michael had never really left me alone, I tried my best to keep my head from spinning. If he’d been watching me, what exactly had he seen? If he’d been watching me, did he know how many sleepless nights he’d been the cause of?

I tried to harden myself again. “You promised me you were going to leave me alone.”

“If you wanted me to leave you there to die, you should have said so, Bridget. It would have saved me a lot of time.”

“I’m not talking about the accident.”

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