Page 40 of Micah
Something about the way he said it made my heart sink. “You knew about Brent?”
“Yes.” He says calmly. “Declan and Kade shared everything with me. I always knew.”
I can’t speak, too horrified by the idea that they all knew about my past this whole time, even before Brent showed up.
“W…What did you see?” I turn to Declan. “What did you show him?” Most of the scars of my marriage are internal. Brent was usually pretty careful not to damage me anywhere that clothes couldn’t hide. But when I tried to get help, at the beginning, there were pictures. Reports. Nothing ever came of them, but they exist.
“Nothing.” Declan’s words are emphatic, his eyes begging me to believe him. “I would never violate your privacy like that. I only shared enough so that everyone would be on guard. We didn’t know about Brent specifically, but we knew you were hurt. I should have dug everything up. We could have ended it sooner.”
I nod, shifting to study the row of yarns behind us. I guess I’m not surprised they know everything, but I wish my mistakes, my shame weren’t the first things they learned about me.
“Hey…what….thinking?”
“I…I tried to leave. And I did fight him. I didn’t always just…give in.”
Micah stares at me, wide eyed. “Fuck!” He yells, shoving his hands into his hair. He paces away, breathing heavily. I watch his shoulders heave, as mine round in.
“Can you put me down please” I whisper to Declan. He’s so incredibly kind, but I don’t want to be this close to him. It feel wrong. He carefully lowers me until I’m settled with my knee on the scooter. My ribs are throbbing, and I’m feeling a little dizzy. Maybe going from sleeping for two days solid to a shopping spree wasn’t the best idea.
Micah storms back, dropping to his knees in front of me. “You don’t ever, EVER, have to justify yourself to me. To anyone. You are fucking alive. Whatever you needed to do to get yourself out, is RIGHT.” “Hear…me…Holly…no….s..sh..shame.” His muscles are bunched, eyes fierce, nostrils flaring.
The conviction in his voice brings tears to my eyes, but I shake my head. “There were so many things —.“
“No,” he says firmly. “I didn’t protect my mom. When my dad would beat her, I didn’t always try to protect her. Sometimes, I just hid. Do you blame me?”
It’s not the same. Not at all.“Never, Micah…but you were just a child—.“
He stands suddenly, looming over me, bringing his body inches from mine. His size suddenly overwhelming. My head only reaching his chest, his forearms thicker than my biceps. I swallow thickly, feeling panicky.
“Holly,” he pleads. I force my chin up and meet his gaze. He keeps us pressed together, glancing at Declan with pleading eyes. Declan nods.
“Brent was smaller than Micah, but still a big guy.” He says, “You had no training. No way to defend yourself.” He exhales heavily. “There is no way you could have stopped him. No way. Just like there is no way you could stop any of us if we wanted to hurt you.”
He comes forward, crouching in front of me. Micah drops back to his knees too. Over their heads, I see Colton and Jonas, eyes dark, brows drawn at the end of the aisle, blocking us from prying eyes.
“Holly,” Micah says, “You are absolutely safe with us, because we would never choose to hurt you. I would protect you with my life.”
“Placing one’s body in a submissive position when interacting with victims of abuse is shown to reduce cortisol,” Jonas says “helping the victims feel less threatened.”
My eyes bounce from Jonas, to the men in front of me, back to Jonas. A hysterical giggle escapes me.
“It works.” Jonas assures me, nodding earnestly.
“That’s why you guys are always crouching down in front of me?” I ask, looking at Declan and Micah, shoulder to shoulder in front of me.
Everyone but Colton nods. He strides forward until he’s right in front of me, then lowers his chin so he’s staring right at me. “See,” he says, pinching the skin under his jaw, startling a laugh out of me, “double chin. Crouching gives you a better angle to admire my awesomeness.”
These men are unbelievable. I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster tonight and I’m on the verge of a meltdown. My body is so primed for conflict it sees a threat in everything they do. It’s got to be tiring for all of them.
I never meant to be so much work.
“Could we go home now?” I ask, tired to my bones. And so sick of myself. Micah’s been bending over backwards, dealing with broken me. I don’t know how he can do it. How does he stay so level?
The guys hustle to grab the yarn and supplies I point out, then we head to the checkouts, Colton and Jonas pushing carts full of…well I don’t know. I refuse Micah’s offer to carry me, trying and failing to ignore the hurt in his eyes. He deserves so much better than me. He deserves someone strong and whole.
Someone more like Becca.
19
