Goosebumps chased my movements as they raised on her skin and I willingly soaked in each tremble, each shiver, each hitched sigh she so freely gave.
Tipping my head back, our lips barely scraped together when I whispered my verdict. “Micah, baby, seems our liaison has come to an end.” It was the first time I’d said her name out loud, the syllables rolling off my tongue in perfect clarity, as if they always belonged there.
“You won’t even consider my request?”
“The risk is too high.”
“Ahh, so there is a reason why you voluntarily stay here. What have they got on you? I can help. You can trust me, Psycho.”
Trust?
A word I wish was never fucking invented. It had only caused turmoil and pain in my life. “Huh,” I scoffed. Her mask shone with sincerity. That’s when I realised she actually believed the shit she was spouting. “I think you truly believe that, don’t you? That you’re someone dependable, someone I could put my trust in? Well, it will remain an untested theory. With this, I trust no one.” I pushed off her, detangling my hold from her soft strands, and with a harsh sneer I ended our acquaintance. “Farewell, Golden Girl. Do not request to see me, do not approach me, do not talk to me. Leave quietly and never come back. This, right here,” I flicked my fingers between us. “Never existed.”
“If only it didn’t.”
Then her hands lifted to brace my jawline and before I could utter another word, she closed the distance to press her lips to mine.
I wasn’t a kisser. I didn’t kiss anyone, the caress too intimate and comfortable for my liking.
With Micah, the feeling was different. I inhaled sharply at the charged contact from the tender touch of her skin. Then my body took over without a coherent thought to lead it.
The predator was released, and she had no one to blame but herself.
I shoved her back and assaulted her in return. Biting her full lips, tasting her tongue, devouring her wet fucking mouth. My hands gripped onto her like a vice, skimming down her curved body to land beneath her thighs, lifting her legs off the floor. She automatically wound them tightly around my waist.
My girl wasn’t a bystander, she was more than a willing participant. Micah’s panting breaths mixed with mine, creating a symphony of lust and need. Her fingers ripped at my clothing, as if she wanted to tear me in half. I groaned down her throat as her nails dug into the back of my neck, my skin now a souvenir beneath her fingernails.
I was on the verge of losing my mind when she took command and rolled her centre over me, sliding against my obvious arousal. Her actions were desperate, she couldn’t get enough. Hell, I couldn’t get enough, both of us chasing the ultimate euphoria that only the other could provide.
A bell rang and rocked us back into reality. Lunch was over.
We froze, both opening our eyes at the same time. Micah’s were lit with an undeniable fire, the inflamed amber sparking as bright as the sun—except this was one I would willingly bow down for.
Then all my previous reasoning came crashing back down on me. We had come to a stalemate, and there was no moving forward.
In rushed timing, we separated and corrected our clothes. I waited for her to leave so I didn’t have to touch her again, the enduring memory of her beneath my fingertips a warning call to my own dwindling restraint.
I flinched when she lifted my hand to place a glass vial into my palm, shutting my fingers over it for safekeeping. I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. She threw me, her actions gentle and soothing, the complete opposite from a moment ago.
Before I could register her movements, she lowered her head, lips skimming the back of my fist. “Good luck, Psycho.”
Micah released me from her siren call, slipped through the door, and was gone.
I’d assumed I would be relieved. One less person to worry about, one less person to take something from me.
Instead, I was locked in this rundown shithole, gagged and bound without clemency in sight. My mind raced with the never-ending list of reasons why I could not trust her. It didn’t help the ache in my chest that pulsed with the lingering thrums of regret.
Chapter 9Micah
The air was crisp with unobstructed views of Junction City, a sprawling canvas of twinkling lights below.
I wrapped my arms around my bent knees and leant back against the gigantic dome of Variant Sanctorum.
Throughout history, Variants were revered to the point of being worshiped as godly beings, resulting in a full-blown religious following. Temples were commonplace and erected as sacred sites to allow believers to practice their beliefs.
Over the generations, technology naturally evolved, knowledge developed and the people’s faith faltered in light of scientific questioning. Trepidation grew from what couldn't be explained and which once was considered prime divinity, now made us the enemy, condemned as godless creatures.
When I’d returned to the Temple, I bypassed dinner and escaped into the secret entrance, up through the altar, willingly getting lost in the endless recesses and winding staircases. One step led to another and I found myself at the highest vantage point in the city. A lone soul sitting on top of the largest towering dome standing directly centre of the opulent structure.
I was a coward. I couldn’t bring myself to face my siblings. How could I tell them I failed? The first obstacle in gaining redemption for my lost family, and I had chosen the sacrifice of a stranger too much to bear.
Psycho’s touch was imprinted into my flesh, severe as any brand; a stark awareness of my unquenchable need, and also an acute reminder of my weaknesses.
The iron platform vibrated beneath me as incoming steps ventured closer. My Variant flared with a familiar farewell, sinking into my pores. A necessary sacrifice I would always welcome with the comfort of having Tanner near.
Tanner settled down next to me, stance casual, expression bored, his wavy brown hair curling at the ends. In public, Tanner came across impassive and indifferent, like nothing mattered. Like the world didn’t matter. If only that were true. Tanner hid his straight masculinity and unpredictable malevolence beneath an air of aloofness, easily deceiving others that weren’t intuitive enough to separate the two. He was the most dangerous of us all. And still, he remained—and always will be—our brother.
“Spencer’s gone postal. You missed dinner,” he said, his breath wafting vapour into the frigid atmosphere.
“I turned off my phone.”
“Should we be concerned?”
“I just needed a minute…to think.” A single raindrop fell from the sky, hitting my arm. I lifted a finger to trace it. “How’d you find me?”
Tanner rubbed at his stubbled jaw. “When you were younger and your Variant became overwhelming, you’d always climb to the highest possible location, seeking solitude away from others. Why do you think Spencer isn’t here right now?”
I snorted. He wasn’t wrong, naming one of the advantages of venturing high. Otherwise Spencer would have dragged me to the dinner table herself.
