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He exhales loudly and flattens his palm against the wall right over my head. “Fuck. I’ll drive you.”
“No way. You’ve been drinking like a fish.”
“Had three shots and two beers. I’m not drunk. But I probably shouldn’t get behind the wheel for a few hours.” He glances back at his friends and nods like he’s just made a deal with himself. “Come on. My place is only two blocks away. You can hang out there until my head is clear enough to drive you back.”
“Your place?” I know Micah lives around here but I’ve never given a second’s thought to what his apartment might look like.
He catches my tone and gets annoyed. “Did you think I was homeless?”
“No. Do we have to argue right now?”
“We’re not arguing. We’re leaving.”
When I hesitate, he jerks his head in the direction of his friends.
“Unless you’d rather get fed to the wolves. I could always do that instead.”
It’s impossible to tell if he’s serious. He might be.
Micah starts walking to the door and I follow him.
I don’t really have a better option.
Chapter2
Tess
How is it possible to know someone your entire life and yet not really know him at all?
Once we’re outside the chaos of the bar it occurs to me that Micah and I have never actually been alone.
It’s a shocking thought because we grew up on the same street. We went to school together. Micah has always been in my life. Yet when I sort through my memories I can’t find any of us having a conversation that didn’t turn into a fight.
As kids, Micah and his two cousins were obnoxious jerks who enjoyed going out of their way to humiliate and exclude me.
That was a long time ago. These days I’m friendly with Conner. Even Gage and I are on good terms now that he’s married to Dani.
But Micah’s a different story.
He and I just don’t connect, never have.
Right now he matches my pace, positioning himself on the street side and staying close enough that there can be no doubt we’re together. Sirens bleat somewhere nearby and then fade. The lighting here is patchy. As we pass a beheaded streetlamp I glance up at the man at my side.
It’s not too dark for me to notice the tension in his posture or see the way he constantly surveys his surroundings. A trio of men huddled together across the street receive a harsh glare until we’re out of their line of sight. A car rolls by only inches from the curb and Micah prods me closer to the strip of buildings on my right.
The next streetlight we pass is intact and I get a better look at his face. He’s an intimidating man and his furious expression makes me glad he’s on my side.
At least I think he is.
Sometimes I’m not a hundred percent sure of anything when it comes to Micah.
Years ago Dani said that Micah always looks like he wants to die fighting, like he’s hunting for the challenge. It’s no secret that he’s never forgiven himself for surviving the violent attack that killed his father.
“The kid was hiding under a bed. Heard everything. He’ll never be right after this.”
Many times those words have come back to haunt me. The brutal details of Ethan Lyonne’s murder are burned into the lore of our neighborhood.
“Your gym is around here, isn’t it?” I ask him this because I don’t like silence. And because I’m trying to redirect my thoughts. I doubt Micah would want anyone’s pity, least of all mine.
