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He squeezes me. “London, relax. I’ve taken care of it.”

I have no clue what he means by that, but his response appeases me.

“I’ve taken care of it…” which means, “I’ll take care of you.”

“Micah, what were you doing out there all that time?” I ask him. “Why didn’t you come back with us?” I crane my neck as the car crunches gravel. “And where are you taking me right now?”

What I’m really asking is, why did he not come back to me? Especially when he knew what I went through with Nigel.

His fingers grip my thigh, then he grabs my hand and squeezes it. “We’re almost there, baby. Then I’ll tell you everything.”

I don’t bother pushing him; I know he won’t tell me where we are going. Instead, I rest my head on the side of the headrest and let him rub me as I enjoy the view of him.

Tiny explosions erupt in my stomach. A mix of excitement, hurt, anger, and every other emotion this man has made me feel since I met him and fell in love with him.

He finally slows the car, easing to a stop. “Close your eyes, London.”

“Micah, what’s going on? You can’t just show up and steal me. We need to talk.”

“Close them.”

I let out a sigh and squeeze them shut as he exits the car and helps me out. I don’t dare open them as he loops my arm with his, and I stumble with him over mud and rocks as I’m still in my three-inch heels.

I flinch and pull my hand away. I don’t want him to know my hand is completely useless.

“Micah,” I whisper, “it’s still not better.” Unfortunately, the doctors don’t think it will ever be quite the same.

“I know,” he says as if it doesn’t surprise him. He interlaces his fingers with them anyway. “Open your eyes.” He stands behind me, leaning his chin on the top of my head.

When I open them, I gasp. A two-story log cabin appears through the darkness, warm light spilling from the inside. Tall trees surround a veranda that wraps around the exterior.

My jaw drops from the mere size of it. “Micah…”

“It’s yours, baby.”

I look at him, narrowing my eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I want us to live here together if you still want me. Come on…”

I follow him inside, and the interior is just as gorgeous, with a large open kitchen and a spiral staircase leading into a nook above. Everything is mahogany, and it reminds me of our cabin, but much bigger and newer, but the feeling is the same. I walk into the kitchen, and he presses himself up behind me, wiping the hair from my neck before kissing it.

I tense… I wish I didn’t, but he senses my unease and stops. I’m not sure how I will feel about being intimate again since I’ve not dealt with my assault.

I am fully aware of what Micah wants from me; I’m just not sure I can give it to him in this moment, or ever…

He moves my hair off my bare shoulders and presses his lips to my skin. “I know I hurt you,” he whispers. “I know it will take a long time for you to trust me again.”

I let out a little sob. He has no idea…

“But it doesn’t change how I feel about you,” he says.

I turn to face him, tears stinging my eyes, and he wipes the tears with his thumb as he peers down at me with more tenderness than I’ve ever seen from him.

“I still hear the laughter,” I say in almost a whisper. “Every night, after I dream about you, he comes to me, and he’s always laughing. I can’t get rid of him, Micah. He’s always in my head.”

He pauses, a pained look on his face. I watch the bob of his throat as he processes my words.

“He’s always in my head too, baby,” he finally says. “Remember what I said to you when Maison died? That it’s me and you, and we can kill him together?”