“Take it easy,” Gray murmured as he glanced warily between Micah and Connor.
“You know, I don’t even know the man, but I’m really sick of hearing about David,” Connor said bluntly. “He’s dead. Angelina’s not. She’s her own person. Not just David’s sister. Her worth isn’t measured by her relationship to your best friend. You’ve done her a great disservice, and you keep on doing it every time you try to bind her identity to David’s.”
Through the haze of anger surrounding Micah like a storm cloud came the knowledge that Connor was exactly right, and it pissed him off the more that Connor had seen it so clearly, and that he thought to protect Angelina from him.
“Son of a bitch, I hate it when you’re right, goddamn it,” Micah muttered. “You’re such a smug bastard sometimes.”
Connor relaxed, and some of the tightness eased from around his eyes and lips.
“Christ but she has me in knots,” Micah said honestly. “I say I don’t know what she wants from me, but the fact is, I think I do, and that scares the shit out of me. I’m not ready—”
He broke off, embarrassed by the flood of emotion straining to break free.
Connor shoved his hands in his pockets and seemed to take pity on Micah’s floundering.
“Look man, she reminds me ... she reminds me of Faith.”
Gray jerked his gaze to Connor. “What do you mean by that?”
“When Pop and I went to get Faith, after the last time her mom ended up in the hospital with an overdose. Faith was such a mess. She looked so young and vulnerable. We just wanted to protect her. Angelina reminds me so much of her. She seems ... lost. And look, I’m not trying to tighten the screws or anything, but you’ve been a dick to her. She needs help. She needs people to care about her. Just like Faith did.”
“Right or not, you’re pissing me the f**k off,” Micah snarled.
Connor’s lips twisted in amusement. “She’s gorgeous, Micah. Extremely hot, and I’d have to be missing my balls not to at least have a few hot fantasies when I look at her. But she’s yours whether you acknowledge that or not, and I’ve never poached on a friend’s territory. I don’t aim to start now.”
“She’s not ... goddamn it,” Micah muttered.
Gray and Connor just looked at him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.
“Look I really need to get back over—”
Micah was interrupted when his front door flew open. All three men lunged to their feet. To Micah’s utter shock, Angelina flew into the living room, her eyes wild, stark terror outlined on her face. She was still wearing his T-shirt—the one he’d helped her into right before tucking her into bed—and she was barefoot. But what really drew him up short was the fact she held a wicked-looking kitchen knife in her right hand. Her fingers were curled so tight around the handle that her knuckles were white.
“What the f**k?” Connor murmured.
“Angelina, honey, put the knife down,” Gray said in a firm voice.
Hell, she didn’t even register them talking to her. Micah took a step forward and then another.
“Angel, girl,” he said in a soothing voice. “What’s the matter, baby? Did you have a bad dream?”
She blinked, and then with a cry she dropped the knife and flew into his arms. He caught her against him as she all but climbed up his body in her haste to get close to him. Her heart beat frantically against his chest, and she trembled and fluttered like an injured bird.
Gray quickly retrieved the knife and moved it way away from Angelina.
“Angel, tell me what’s wrong,” Micah said as he ran a hand through her long hair.
“He was here,” she said in a muffled voice. “At my apartment.”
He pulled her face away from his neck so he could better hear her.
“Who was here?” he demanded.
He, Connor and Gray all looked up again when the front door slammed loudly. Nathan stood in the entryway to the living room, his face drawn into a mask of fury.
“We have a problem,” Nathan bit out.
CHAPTER 18
Not now, Nathan,” Micah said. “Whatever it is, it can wait.”
He backed toward the couch, Angelina still wrapped around him like plastic wrap.
“No, it can’t wait,” Nathan argued. He thrust a piece of paper out in front of him, his brows drawn together in an angry line. “Next time you won’t save her,” he read aloud.
Angelina gripped Micah tighter, and she shuddered violently.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Micah demanded. “Where did you get that?”
“It was on the windshield of my truck.”
Micah’s confusion mounted, and then Angelina’s words came back to him.
He was here at my apartment.
Holy f**k. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t wrap his brain around the implications.
Gently he pulled Angelina away from his neck so he could look into her eyes. “What scared you, baby? What made you run over here with that knife? Did someone try to hurt you?”
His voice dropped to a dangerous level. He tried to keep it even and light so as not to frighten her, but he was vibrating with fury.
With shaking hands, she reached underneath her shirt and pulled out a plastic Ziploc bag. There was a piece of paper inside.
“I touched it. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” she said in a small voice. “I’m hoping I didn’t ruin any evidence.”
Nathan glanced down at the note in his hand and swore. “I didn’t even think about that. I thought it was just an advertising flier.”
Gray held up his hand. “Okay let’s slow down here so the rest of us can catch up. What does your note say, Angelina?”
Micah gently took the bag from her and laid it on the couch next to them.
“It said next time you won’t escape,” she whispered.
Four distinct curses rang out over the room.
“Holy f**k,” Nathan breathed. “The son of a bitch targeted her.”
“How?” Connor demanded. “She hasn’t been here long enough for someone to have laid that kind of groundwork.”
Angelina’s fingers formed tight fists, the skin stretching thin over her knuckles.
“Angel?” Micah asked gently. “What are you thinking?”