Chapter 101: The Captain’s Wrath
Damon’s POV
Finding Micah didn’t take long once Noah got that phone call. Whoever tipped him off gave us the exact location, and we tore down the stairs to the lower level like a pair of men possessed.
The entire hallway was lined with identical golden doors, screaming tacky wealth.
Normal people would have checked the room numbers. Normal people would have asked the staff. But Noah wasn’t normal right now. He was a ruthless, terrifying monster blinded by pure rage.
He didn’t bother checking. He just reared his heavy boot back and slammed it into every single golden door we passed, bursting into private suites like a wrecking ball.
BANG!
The first door flew open, smashing into the wall. An angry couple screamed inside.
"Sorry! Wrong room! So sorry!" I shouted frantically behind Noah, bowing my head repeatedly as I ran to keep up with his furious strides.
BANG!
The second door caved in under his heel. A group of wealthy businessmen froze, staring at us in absolute horror.
"Extremely sorry! Private security check! Carry on!" I yelled again, sweating through my clothes as I bowed left and right.
Noah didn’t care about my apologies. He didn’t care about the commotion he was causing. He was gritting his teeth so hard I could hear the enamel grinding together.
His eyes were wide and bloodshot. Whoever had touched his little brother tonight was going to end up in an intensive care unit... or a body bag. I was practically running on his heels, terrified that if I lost sight of him for a second, he would start snapping necks before I could even find Micah.
BANG!
Noah kicked open the very last door at the end of the hall. The double doors swung wide open.
My heart instantly stopped in my chest.
God help me.
There he was. My sweet, helpless Micah was sitting directly on George Jenson’s legs. He was wearing an scandalously short outfit that barely covered anything, his soft skin glowing under the dim lights. The thick stench of spilled alcohol hit my nose immediately, making my blood run hot. A sudden, intense wave of possessiveness and dark jealousy surged straight to my chest, making my cheeks flush with heat.
"Micah!" Noah roared.
The other men in the room froze instantly, scrambling away from the couches in panic. But George stayed right where he was, his arm wrapped tightly around Micah’s small waist.
"Micah?" Noah called out again. This time, his voice dropped. It was softer, laced with a terrifying, desperate tremble.
"Noah..." Micah whispered softly.
He slowly turned his head toward the door. Instead of crying, instead of panicking, a slow, ridiculously devilish grin spread across his face. His eyes curved into narrow, lazy slits, making him look like a mischievous little villain who had just gotten caught doing something terrible. He looked utterly, completely wasted.
Seeing him like that made a sudden, dark surge of excitement bubble up in my gut. I had to press my hand over my mouth just to hide the smirk tugging at my lips. I felt terrible for enjoying this, but I couldn’t help it.
My mind instantly flashed back to the last time Micah had taken a tiny sip of alcohol. He had turned into a completely different person—a shameless, sweet little menace who had backed up and rubbed his soft ass directly against my dick, driving me completely insane, only to pass out cold right before I could push him over the edge. Remembering that raw heat made my blood boil all over again.
"Damon!" Noah snapped sharply.
I almost jumped out of my skin. I flinched, snapping out of my dazed thoughts. Hearing my actual name come out of my captain’s mouth was so rare it felt like an anomaly. Normally, Noah only referred to me as "brat," "bastard," "idiot," or whatever colorful insult crossed his mind. When he used my real name, it meant business.
"Yes, Captain?" I replied, stepping up beside him.
"Take Micah away from here. Now," Noah commanded, his voice deadly flat.
I blinked, taking a cautious step forward, but I couldn’t resist opening my mouth. "Huh? Are you sure you’re actually letting me touch your precious little brother right now? You’re not going to secretly murder me in my sleep later for laying a hand on him, are you?"
Noah slowly turned his head, locking his icy blue eyes onto mine with a glare so lethal it felt like a blade to my neck. I immediately held my hands up in mock surrender.
"Alright, alright! I’m going," I muttered, turning my attention toward George Jenson.
I stepped closer to the couch, my smirk returning as I locked eyes with the arrogant bastard. "Hand him over, George," I said smoothly.
George’s face twisted into a deep, furious scowl. "Why the hell should I? What gives you two the right to barge into my private suite?" He looked around the room, expecting security to burst in and save him. "Where the fuck is security?! Drag these two pricks out of here!"
"Damon!" Noah growled from the doorway.
Panic flared in my chest. Noah was right on the edge of snapping completely.
I took two fast steps forward, leaning over the table toward George. "Trust me, dude, I am literally trying to save your damn life right now," I warned him in a sharp whisper. "If I don’t walk out of this room with Micah in my arms within the next five seconds, you are going to be in deep shit. Actually, maybe both of us will... but mostly you. You’re going to die here."
George’s grip tightened possessively around Micah’s waist. Micah was completely out of it, his head lolloping back against George’s shoulder. If he had even a single drop of sanity left in his brain, he would have broken free and thrown himself straight into my arms.
I cast a quick sideways glance at Noah. His knuckles were white, his whole body trembling with barely suppressed rage. He was going to kill George with his bare hands if I didn’t move fast.
I reached out and grabbed Micah’s wrist, trying to pull him free, but George violently slapped my hand away.
"Don’t touch him!" George yelled, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a shiny card, shoving it directly in my face. "I’m a Gold Card member, you arrogant prick! Don’t think for a second I’m going to let you get away with this!"
"Gold?" I folded my arms, unimpressed.
Part of me desperately wanted to reach into my back pocket, pull out my Titanium Card, and slam it right into his arrogant face just to watch his jaw hit the floor. But I didn’t have time for a dick-measuring contest. I really, really didn’t want to die by Noah’s hands today. Besides, looking down at Micah, I could see his head drooping. He was literally one second away from completely passing out into total unconsciousness.
"Mr. Jenson, please hand over Roxie," a strict, calm voice interrupted from the doorway.
It was Eve.
George snapped his head toward her, his fury exploding. "Is this how you treat your VIP guests?!" he screamed, pulling his hand away from Micah’s waist to point an angry finger at Eve.
That was the exact opening I needed.
The moment his arm lifted, I moved quickly. I reached down and yanked Micah off the couch, sweeping my arms under his knees and back before George could even react. I pulled Micah’s soft, warm body tightly against my chest.
Fuck, he was so warm.
Micah let out a soft, helpless groan, his head slumping heavily against my shoulder, his warm breath fanning across my neck. A deep, protective instinct flared violently in my chest, making me pull him even closer.
"Take him to a private room," Noah warned, his voice unnervingly calm as he stepped between me and George. "And don’t you dare leave the building with him yet."
"Got it," I said, replied quickly. I shifted my weight, slipping one arm under Micah’s knees and the other behind his shoulders, easily scooping his entire body up into my arms.
As I carried Micah toward the door, I paused right beside Noah. The air surrounding my captain felt suffocatingly heavy, suffocated by an aura of pure death.
"Don’t kill him, Noah," I whispered genuinely, my heart heavy with sudden anxiety. "For Micah’s sake... don’t do something you can’t undo."
Noah didn’t answer me. He didn’t even blink. He just stared at George like a predator watching its trapped prey.
God, I really wished he would listen to me just this once.
"Follow me. I’ll lead you to a private suite," Eve said softly, real worry etched into her strict face as she glanced at Micah’s limp form in my arms.
I turned and walked out into the corridor. Behind me, I heard the frantic, scrambling footsteps of the remaining guests hastily fleeing the room. Through the narrowing gap of the doorway, I watched as Noah reached out and grabbed the edge of the door, slowly pulling it shut from the inside, locking himself in with George.
My stomach dropped, a cold realization settling over me as the latch clicked shut.
’Ah. That bastard George is a dead man.’