Chapter 79: Shadows of the Morning!
Micah’s POV
"L-lock me up? Why would you think of doing that to your own brother, Noah?" I mumbled, my voice cracking softly as a fresh wave of tears welled up in my eyes. I sniffed, staring down at him in disbelief, my heart pounding violently against my ribs.
Noah’s cold, piercing eyes slowly shifted upward to meet mine. He didn’t say a word at first, but without even looking down at his lips, I could tell he was smiling at me through his eyes. It was a terrifying, hollow expression that sent an icy shiver straight down my spine. His arms didn’t loosen their grip—instead, they tightened around my waist like a heavy steel rope, binding me to him so tightly I could barely draw a breath.
"That’s the problem, there’s no way I could ever lock you up, Micah. You’re just an innocent, sweet..." He paused abruptly, shaking his head as if arguing with an invisible voice inside his mind. "Staying in this tinted world will ruin you."
A lump formed in my throat, choking back a sob. "Does that explain why you’ve always been so... cold to me?" I muttered, letting the tears spill over my lashes and roll down my heated cheeks. Deep down, I knew there was no genuine reason for me to break down crying like this right now, but a desperate instinct inside me whispered that if tears could make Noah pity me, if emotion could buy his forgiveness for missing all his calls tonight, then I would cry until my eyes turned swollen and raw.
Slowly, Noah uncoiled his arms from around my waist and stood up. His massive frame towered over me once again, instantly making the kitchen feel small. He reached out, his broad hands gently cupping my wet cheeks. His dark gaze burned two intense holes straight into my skin as he watched the teardrops stream down my face. With care, he used both of his thumbs to brush the moisture away, wiping my cheeks dry before letting a faint, eerie smile touch his lips.
"I’m not being cold to you, Micah," he said softly, his voice dropping into a low, soothing hum. "I’m only protecting you."
"From who?" I demanded, my breath hitching as I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. "From Father? From Damon?"
The second the name Damon slipped past my lips, the strange softness in Noah’s face vanished instantly. His eyes snapped back into frozen, lifeless pools of blue, darker and colder than before. Was it because I mentioned Damon? Or was it the mention of Father that made his blood run cold? I couldn’t even tell anymore.
"Father will bring you a lot of harm," Noah stated, his tone flat, hard, and devoid of any warmth. "I hate to admit it, but I can’t tell you everything."
Everything? The word echoed loudly in my head. What on earth did he know about Father that I was completely blind to? Panic gave way to a sharp, burning curiosity. I reached out, my trembling hands grabbing the lapels of his dark jacket, gripping the thick fabric tightly as I stared straight into his eyes.
"Tell me everything, Noah. Right now."
Noah looked down at my hands clutching his coat, then back up at my face, shaking his head. "You won’t be able to handle it."
"Try me," I shot back immediately, my voice dropping its pathetic, crying tone. Just like that, the fake tears streaming down my cheeks ceased. My mind was racing. If there was a dark, dangerous secret about Father that I was being kept in the dark about, maybe it was the exact reason why Noah had written our own father’s name on that bloody hit list in his study.
Noah stared at me in complete silence for a long, agonizing moment, measuring my resolve. Finally, he let out a short, heavy breath.
"Fine. I’ll take you somewhere to see it yourself," he said, pausing just long enough to let hope flare up in my chest before crushing it. "But not today."
My shoulders slouched in immediate deflation, a quiet sigh escaping my lips. Yet, right beneath the disappointment, a secret wave of relief washed over me. I shouldn’t have been disappointed—I should have been celebrating. I was completely exhausted, my body was aching from the stress of the club, and my brain was fried. I desperately needed to sleep without worrying about whatever dark horror Noah wanted to drag me into.
I stood motionless as Noah pulled his phone from his coat pocket. The bright light of the screen illuminated his sharp jawline as he tapped the glass, his brow furrowing deeper into a heavy, agitated frown. Whatever message he just received clearly wasn’t good news.
"Go to the bedroom and sleep," Noah commanded, sliding his phone away without another word. "I have somewhere urgent to be tonight. I’ll take you there tomorrow."
"O-okay," I muttered, taking a step back.
He didn’t wait around to discuss it further. He turned on his heel and strode out the front door, the heavy lock clicking shut behind him as he disappeared into the dark night.
I stood alone in the quiet kitchen, staring at the empty doorway in utter shock. Wait... did I really just say ’okay’ to him?!
A sudden spike of panic shot straight to my brain, short-circuiting my thoughts. I had somewhere I was forced to be tomorrow! Fuck! How was I supposed to split myself in half between Noah’s terrifying secret trip and meeting George Jenson at the VIP club? Was I actually going back to that den of wolves? Did I even have a choice when a man like Jenson demanded my presence?
I let out a loud, frustrated groan, slapping my hands over my face. My stomach grumbled again, reminding me I hadn’t eaten. I quickly scarfed down the bowl of dry cereal, not bothering with the milk, and dragged my heavy feet up the stairs to the bedroom. I had full intentions of opening Eve’s printed paper to memorize the club’s rules and regulations, but the moment my head hit the plush pillow, my eyelids felt like lead. Darkness swallowed me whole before I could even pull the blanket over my shoulders.
.
.
The next morning arrived far too quickly.
I woke up late, my brain foggy and my limbs feeling like overcooked noodles. I sprinted through my morning routine, stuffing a half-burnt piece of toasted bread into my mouth as I hurriedly pulled on clothes. I was far too exhausted and lazy to browse through my own sparse clothes, so I simply marched into Noah’s massive closet and grabbed the first things I saw: a pair of wildly oversized black pants and a massive, heavy designer jacket that swallowed my small frame whole, draping past my hips like a heavy winter coat.
I didn’t have time to process the chaotic disaster waiting for me tonight. I needed to get to the ice rink immediately.
By the time I reached there, the chilly air of the indoor rink washed over my warm skin, instantly waking up my sluggish senses. I hurried down the side corridors toward the bleachers, chewing on the crust of my toast.
"Did you hear the news?" a loud voice echoed from around the corner, making me slow my steps. "Students from the other university are arriving today!"
"Oh, fuck, serious?!" another voice replied in a shocked, hushed tone. "You mean the hockey team from Jenson University?"
I froze dead in my tracks, my foot hovering above the concrete floor.
Jenson?
The name hit my ears like a sharp crack of thunder. Why did that name sound so terrifyingly familiar? My mind instantly flashed back to last night—the heavy stench of liquor, the velvet couch, and the terrifying, cold eyes of the man who had clamped his fingers around my chin.
"Could it be..." I whispered aloud to myself, my voice trembling in the empty hall. "Is George Jenson actually from... there?"
Before the thought could fully form in my brain, a pair of broad, warm arms suddenly reached out from behind me, wrapping tightly around my chest and pulling my back flush against a hard, muscular body.
I gasped, flinching so hard that the piece of toast slipped right out of my mouth, tumbling uselessly onto the dirty floor.
Down the hallway, several passing figure stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes darting straight toward me in shock. Whispers instantly broke out among them, their horrified and envious gazes locking onto the person holding me captive.
Why the hell were they staring at me like that?! Who the fuck was grabbing me in broad daylight at my own university rink?! What was going on?!
I squirmed, opening my mouth to scream, but the person holding me leaned down. His hot, steady breath brushed directly against the shell of my ear, sending a wave of violent terror straight down my spine as a low, smooth voice purred into the silence:
"We meet again so soon... Roxie."
Ro-Roxie?!
My heart completely stopped. Panic exploded in my chest like a grenade. I thrashed violently against his grip, shoving his heavy arms away with every ounce of strength left in my body until I managed to tear myself free.
I spun around on my heels, my chest heaving, my wide, terrified eyes looking up at the intruder.
Standing right there in the middle of the bright, bustling ice rink hallway, clad in an immaculate, dark tailored suit, was the absolute last person on earth I ever wanted to see again.
It was him.
George Jenson.