D’Angelo’s eyebrows went up, “Really? You recorded your proposal?”
“No,” Micah said shaking his head, “I downloaded one song that told her how I felt about her and then had it delivered. I waited to see what her reaction would be before I approached her and proposed.”
D’Angelo was giving his evil half smile, “I never knew you had a romantic side.”
Micah’s pulse was picking up and he could feel the cool sweat coming over him, “Murder doesn’t lend to that emotion.”
“On the contrary, Micah. You should remember that murder is the highest crime of passion. Remember that when you catch up to her.”
He didn’t like the remark, nor the insinuation, “There is no passion in making a mark, not anymore anyway.”
Their meeting ended abruptly as Micah’s pulse continued to rise.
When she ran out of the party, Micah called for his private plane to be fueled and ready. He was possessed with the need to get to her and find out why she was willing and then suddenly chose Ryan. It was late, but he would make sure a car would be waiting for him at the Colorado Springs airport in the morning. But before leaving, he needed to rest. He was still feeling the ill effects from lunch. It was worth investigating, and he wouldn’t put it past D’Angelo to poison him. He was valuable alive, but there were reasons for D’Angelo to eliminate him as well.
Micah pulled out a familiar black case and opened the bag pulling out a hypodermic and a rubber strap. He tied off the band, using his teeth to pull it tight and then plunged the needle into his vein, filling the syringe quickly. He wouldn’t waste time getting it to a lab now, but he knew the blood would say usable for at least five days. He wrote a short note and wrapped it around the syringe, then opened his office refrigerator and carefully placed it out of view. If anything should happen to him, David would find the note and the vial; D’Angelo would pay.
By 7 a.m., Micah was ready to leave. He had all the information he needed. She had one home in Colorado Springs in Ryan’s name and one in her own. He would try her address first. He wasn’t sure if he should trust himself to bring his guns, especially not with the odd effects he was still feeling, but he didn’t debate it long as he strapped on the harness.
He developed a new symptom as he sat in the quiet cabin area of the jet. He looked down and noticed his hands were shaking. He was starting to wonder if what he was feeling was actually a case of nerves. He’d been rock-steady his whole life and now, when he needed composure, he had the shakes. He opened the bar and stared at the bottles of alcohol. Surely she would smell it on his breath, but he needed something to stop the tremors as he poured himself a Jack and Coke that was mostly Jack. The cold sweats had returned as his trembling hand lifted the glass to his lips and he chugged down what he really didn’t want to drink. His emotions were slipping beyond his control as he fought the urge to grab the bottle and lose every ounce of reason he possessed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sunrise on Sunday morning found me on the pool deck watching the sky change colors over the white landscape. I had determined that I wasn’t going to back out of Remake. There were only three days until the final show, and I would finish what I’d started. But I would question Don first and make sure all the voting results hadn’t been tainted by the ‘owner’ trying to keep me on the show.
I hadn’t slept at all last night, but I needed some rest before Ryan showed after church. I knew it would be just the two of us; he wouldn’t bring Candace. I grabbed the most recent tee-shirt that he’d given me and crawled into the bed, willing my aching heart to sleep.
I woke to a strange noise just before twelve. It sounded as if someone was in the house, but it was too early for Ryan to show up unless he skipped out on the worship service. I got up and glanced in the mirror. I still had dark circles under my eyes from crying so much last night.
“Ryan?” I called out as I emerged into the living room.
“He’s not here,” came a male voice from my kitchen area.
I screamed before I could stifle it as I turned and saw Micah standing inside my house. “Wha-what are you doing in here?”
“I came to see you,” he stated as if I should have expected him.
This wasn’t good. Ryan would be showing up in the next fifteen to twenty minutes and I could clearly see by his unzipped jacket that he was armed. I would have to be strong and I would have to get rid of him in a hurry. I couldn’t show any weakness and I couldn’t fall as easily as I did when I ended up in his arms last night.
“You need to leave,” I was trying to be firm, but not panicked.
“Why? Last night you were ready for me to take you and now you want me to go away?”
I studied his eyes. I could tell the level of danger by watching those green barometers. He was on an edge; anger was in place of the deadly emptiness that I feared more than anything.
“Please, leave Micah. We settled this last night.”
He began moving toward me as I backed slowly.
“Nothing was settled last night, Leese. You wanted me, you needed me, and then you ran away. All I want is to know why? Why Ryan? I don’t believe you love him.”
“Don’t doubt that, Micah. I do love him.”
“More than me?”
I could feel the stab to my heart, “I’m here.”
I couldn’t back anymore as I had reached the couch and was ready to turn and move around it when he swiftly reached out and grabbed my arm.
“Don’t keep walking away from me.”
I could smell his breath and I knew he’d been drinking. He wasn’t drunk, but he was definitely not in his right mind. I had never seen Micah in this state, and fear was spiking inside me as I desperately tried to remain calm. “Please,” I re-asked. “Please don’t do this-I need you to leave.”
“Will he be home soon, Leese? What did he do? Did he go out to get you something to eat? Did you get your thrills with him last night?” He was so close to going over the edge, it was almost visible.
“Out! I want you out now,” I demanded with a shaky voice.
He grabbed my upper arms so hard that I could feel the bruising as he jerked me to his chest, covering my mouth with his. I could taste the alcohol; I could taste the hate and the need he had to kill someone. I pushed hard against his chest, breaking the kiss and slapping his cheek. It was as if I had placed the blade to my chest just as in my nightmare. To hurt him, was to kill myself.
I could see my reaction stunned him and then he seemed to unravel with fury as the back of his hand hit me hard in the face and I flew backward onto the coffee table sending the items on the table scattering. I rolled off the table to the floor and covered my cheek with my hand. It had been a powerful hit and it stung horribly. I could taste the blood in my mouth.
I was rising from the floor when I looked back into his eyes. I couldn’t tell who he was. He had given into the animal part of himself and he didn’t care that I had just been knocked across the room.
“Tell me why you left me,” he growled, snatching me by the wrist with a steel grip.
I tried to twist out of the weakest part of his hold, but at the moment there were no weaknesses. Again he was trying to kiss me, but his mouth was so hard and unyielding that I could feel my lips being cut by my teeth as he slammed into me.
“Stop it, Micah, please,” I begged as I pushed away from him.
“Why? Don’t you like this, baby,” he said mocking me. “Is that it, Leese? Is he better in bed than I am?” He was grabbing at my body roughly as I struggled with him. “Maybe you just need a refresher?” He grabbed the front of my blouse and quickly ripped it open. I could hear my buttons skittering across the floor.