Page 214 of The Darkest Chase

He was scared, and he ran.

I get that more than anything.

I spent the first half of my life letting fear make me timid, before I learned life needs risks, no matter the outcome.

Micah took so many for me.

He saved my life.

And now he’s showing me how he truly feels.

Proving my faith in him wasn’t misplaced and that he’s every bit the bold, strong, honorable man I thought he was.

No matter what happens after this, we’ll find our way home.

His teeth tease my lips, a shivering promise of more—later, when we’re not hovering on the edge of an active crime scene with bodies disappearing into coroner vans.

When we don’t have an audience, apparently.

An amused clearing of a throat breaks us apart. We give each other sheepish looks of silent laughter before we glance at the EMT who first put me in the oxygen mask.

“That works better on your face, just so you’re aware,” she says with a dry look at the mask hanging around my neck. “At least you’re breathing easier. You feeling okay?”

“I am.” I nod, breaking into a smile that feels like it takes over my entire face. “Thank you. I really am okay. I can tell when it’s going to last, and I think I’m in the clear to go home.”

“All right, but keep your local doctor on speed dial for a few days. The stress after incidents like this can catch up with you in surprising ways long after they’re over.” She gives me a long look, then glances at Micah. “You good?”

“Bruised knees, a few cuts on my hands. That’s about it,” he answers.

“Then I’m going to go do my job.” She lifts a hand in a mock salute, then jogs off to join her coworkers, tending to the wounded—including an older woman in an EMT jacket who seems very, very interested in the wound staining Henri Fontenot’s thigh.

Meanwhile, Grant Faircross growls at the technician fussing over a scrape on his forearm, and Lucas Graves patiently endures getting a cut on his shoulder stitched up.

Micah watches the rest of Redhaven PD for a minute or two, and I’d swear those cool eyes are almost fond.

Yeah, I think Micah’s been lying to himself about his capacity to love for a long time when it’s so clear in his eyes.

He loves his friends on the Redhaven police team.

He turns back to me, though, looking down at my hand that’s still flat against his chest. Gently, he separates my fingers, stroking their length.

I wince, though I can only feel a minor twinge past the meds the EMTs gave me. They look like my grandfather’s hands, or worse.

Swollen, my fingertips raw, my knuckles inflamed from the ropes against my skin. I probably should’ve had the medic take a look, but…

That means being apart from Micah longer.

“What happened to your fingers?” He frowns, turning my hand over with a gentle touch.

I smile weakly. “The princess tried to save herself. I tried to pick the rope apart and I was going to use it to strangle them.”

“Brave girl.” With an approving rumble, Micah kisses the center of my palm almost reverently. “You didn’t even need me. You’d have gotten out of there just fine on your own. You’re too stubborn not to.”

“I did need you,” I promise, leaning into him hard. I needed—I need—him for so much more than just this. “The odds were one in a million. Maybe I’d have found a way to escape on my own, but with you there, I knew I’d be safe.”

“I’ll never give you a reason to feel unsafe.” Silvery ocean eyes capture me, bathing me in his love. “Let’s go home, Talia, so I can look after you.”

It’s still over an hour before we can leave.

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