Page 96 of Save Me

And I find myself hoping, praying that Micah isn’t playing that game. Because I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this. I want him to be different. Need him to be different.

My breathing gets harder, and that weight that’s been pressing down on me gets heavier.

Hope? This isn’t safe to feel.

But I’m already turning the corner to Micah’s house, and he’s there, sitting on the front step. And just seeing him immediately loosens my chest. Makes everything I’ve been bottling up so tight want to let go.

Micah sees me immediately, shooting to his feet, and holding Princess. His eyes light up when we make eye contact. Then he looks behind me, and they harden. “Are you okay?”

I turn to look at what he’s looking at.

There’s nothing there. I look back at Micah, scanning his face for any of the old tells. For anger, a sneer, a sense of victory.

Instead, his eyes are red, and he looks…scared.

And fuck, that fear punches me in the gut. I don’t want Micah to feel afraid.

Then the dog moves, and I realize why I came back. “He needs the vet.”

Micah glances down, then back up at me. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I say, and try to calm my breathing. It’s a lot easier now than it was before. Now that I’m back.

Princess struggles and growls in Micah’s arms.

“Who is this?” Micah is looking at my arms.

My throat feels tight, but I clear it. “I found him while I was walking. I think he’s hurt.”

Micah’s face melts into concern. “Bring him in.”

Concern. Like, real concern. Not irritation. Not annoyance. Actual worry.

And something frozen in my heart breaks, letting a tiny bit of warmth in. The tiniest bit of relief loosens my chest, and I follow them inside. Princess fights in Micah’s arms, scratching his side and making him let out a distressed sound. That sound spikes my heart rate. Micah is hurt.

“Buggar.” Micah holds Princess away. “Your nails are so long.” He puts Princess down, who stamps at me and the dog.

I evaluate Micah, who just wags his finger at Princess. “Right, you’re still the princess of this house.” Then he turns his attention to the dog in my arms. As he goes to pet him, his hand brushes my arm, making goosebumps rise up along my skin. This close to him, I can smell him, the sweat on his skin. He smells good. So good, and I’m hit with a wave of dizziness.

Maybe I need to sit down.

Micah glances up at me like he’s going to ask a question, then his gaze lingers. His pupils widen, and he licks his lips. We stand there, caught up in…whatever this is. Like, there’s so much to say, but neither of us knows how to say it.

Finally, Micah clears his throat. “I uh…where is he hurt?”

Ripping my attention back to the dog feels painful. But as soon as I do, I feel guilty. Why am I focusing on all the wrong things? The dog needs help.

“I think his leg.” The tension starts to creep back into my body as I gently lay the dog down. It hunkers down, trying to get small.

Slowly, Micah crouches down, his voice gentle. “It’s okay, little buddy. Don’t worry about the fart skunk over there. He’s a grouch, but he means well.”

The puppy shivers, and fear hits me. If the dog won’t show he’s hurt, Micah will kick him out. Princess already isn’t happy. He’ll brush the dog right out the door like Arthur did with the pigeons.

Micah keeps talking, but his voice is gentle. Soothing. He reaches out to the dog, who tries to run, and as he does, he limps distinctly.

Micah’s face creases in concern. “Where did you find him?”

I don’t even remember the street name. I wasn’t paying attention. “I uh…I don’t know.” Fuck, I should have paid attention. Why didn’t I pay attention? Stupid, I’m fucking stupid.