Destiny Gift (The Everlast Trilogy) - By Juliana Haygert Page 0,47
glass of water, trying to push the nausea back down. It helped a little.
Back in my room, I picked up my cell phone and called Cheryl. To hell with the hour. I hadn’t talked to her in more than three weeks and I needed her right now, even if it was almost midnight. I needed her to listen to me, to calm me down, to tell me I was not insane and that therapy would be sufficient to treat my visions and hallucinations. The call went directly to her voicemail.
A noise from the living room made me forget about Cheryl. My heart fluttered. “Victor?” I called, rushing to the other room.
I made it to the doorway before I bumped into a solid figure that loomed over me. I stumbled and would have fallen back if strong hands hadn’t steadied me by my elbows. Micah’s sandalwood scent hit me before I could see him.
His sly smile played with my soul. “Hello there.”
“What are you doing here?” I pulled my arms from his hold. “When did you get back? Wait, how did you get in?”
“Darling, I would love to answer all your questions, but we don’t have time.” His eyes expressed urgency even if his debonair tone didn’t. “We have to go.”
I stepped back. “Why?”
“All right,” he said, coming closer. “If you’re gonna play hard to get, then at least give me some of your goodness before the game.”
He extended his jarring hand.
Oh God. I held his hand in mine. The cold shock startled me, both from the contrast with the warmth that came with Victor’s touch and from the strength of Micah’s grip. With closed eyes, Micah moaned, as if my touch were the essence of his life.
“How long have you been in pain?”
“A few days.” He pulled his hand back. “Thanks.” He walked into my room and headed toward my closet.
Frowning, I followed him and found him pulling out a suitcase. He opened it. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“Micah.” I pulled his arm, trying in vain to make him look at me. “Stop with the freakiness. And stop messing with my stuff. Tell me what the hell you’re doing?”
He turned to me. “We gotta leave. Now.”
I laughed. “Okay, okay. If you’re trying to scare me, I’ll pretend I’m scared, then you can stop the sh—” His hand shot out to my throat and he pinned me to the wall. I gagged. The enraged shine of his deep black eyes sent shivers up my spine.
“If you want to live, do as I say,” he snarled. His cool breath against my skin made my insides melt from pure terror. “You have five minutes to pack, and then we are out of here.” He released me and marched out of the closet.
I fell on the floor, my hand on my throat, as I sucked in desperate gulps of fresh air.
Holy hell. My mind spun. I peeked out of the closet. He wasn’t in my room. Quivering hard and stifling sobs, I crawled out of my room and grabbed my cell phone. My wish was to call Victor, but I didn’t have his number and I didn’t think he wanted to be my rescuer. Instead, I pressed the speed dial to call Raisa. I hoped she would pick up her phone, wherever she was.
On the first ring, the phone was snatched from my hand.
Micah threw it against the wall. “Damn it! Why can’t you listen to me?”
I tried to keep my distance from him, but the shaking of my body made it hard to walk backward, especially since my mind had shut down, and I kept bumping and stumbling over the furniture.
“What do you want?” I cried, trying to recall where I had left my purse with my pepper spray.
“I want to get out of here,” he yelled, coming closer. After another puff, he went back to my closet and threw random clothes inside the suitcase. “Behave, or I’ll have to use force again.”
I was already on tiptoes, reaching for the room’s door. I was halfway through the living room when I heard him behind me. “Damn it, woman!”
I darted to the door. He ran much faster than I did, and got to me as I was turning the knob. Where I would have gone, I have no idea. I just wanted to get away from him.
More sobs made their way out of me as he dragged me back into my room.
The stabbing pain took over my chest, warmth dispersed through