“You’re going to hurt yourself. You should be more careful,” he admonished even as he stroked her hair in a soothing motion. “Where’s Micah? Sanchez came out and said you were upset as hell.”
“He walked out,” she said, her voice muffled by Connor’s shirt.
“Any particular reason why?” Connor asked mildly.
“Oh, Connor, if only I didn’t have to tell him. I didn’t want to hurt him, but he had to find out.”
“You’re not making a lick of sense, sweetie, but I’ll sit here and listen if you want to talk.”
Despite her vow not to ask for any more pain medication, after two days of battling pain, she was at the end of her limit.
“I hurt,” she croaked out. “Can you call for pain medication? I’ll tell you all about it and then maybe I can forget for just a little while.”
Micah walked blindly through the hospital corridors, no clear direction in mind. He needed air. He needed to be alone before he completely lost his composure.
Tears blinded him, and he steeled his jaw, furious at his display of emotion.
Where the fuck were the exits?
He rounded the corner and encountered another maze of hallways. He strode to the far end, only to dead-end at the chapel.
At least it would be quiet and maybe he’d be alone.
He entered the small area of respite and slid into the last pew in a row of four. It was blanketed in quiet, and more importantly, he was the only occupant.
Long-held tears slid down his cheeks. He braced himself on the back of the pew in front of him and leaned forward, burying his face in his arms.
For too long he’d held back any emotion when it came to Hannah. He’d always assumed he was the unlucky victim of a random tragedy. He saw them all the time when he was a cop. Too many times he’d been the one to tell a husband or a wife, a mother or a father, that a loved one was gone. And then it had been him.
Never had he imagined that an act of rage had been responsible for taking away the people he loved. And God, Hannah, completely innocent. A victim. She’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If she hadn’t been with David that day, she’d still be alive.
Fury blew through his consciousness, a bleak, destructive storm. That bastard had taken David and Hannah from him, and he’d damned near taken Angelina.
So many lives devastated because of Chad’s sick fixation on Angelina. Angelina, who had just been a teenager, innocent. There was no way she should have attracted the attentions of a man old enough to know better. A man who’d sworn to uphold the law and protect the innocent.
Micah raised his head and stared down at the simple cross that hung high on the far wall, overlooking the pews. It was a symbolic gesture, but it left Micah cold.
“Why?” he asked in a cracked voice.
The cross blurred in his vision, and he closed his eyes in an effort to hold back the tears. His chest was heavy and ached so damn much that breathing was hard.
Promise me, man. If anything ever happens to me, promise me you’ll take care of Angelina. She’s something special, Micah. Heart way too big for her own good. I worry because she doesn’t see everyone for who they are. She’s too busy looking for the good. I’ve tried to get her to adopt some cynicism, but the truth of the matter is, she wouldn’t be the same girl if she did.
A long-ago conversation, one he hadn’t remembered until now, floated through his mind with such clarity that it was like David was sitting next to him in the pew.
He hadn’t given Angelina any thought after the funerals. He’d made a cursory effort to support Angelina in her grief, but he’d been too wrapped up in his own to do her any justice. He’d left Miami within the month, just as soon as David’s affairs had been settled and Angelina was provided for. Financially. He damn sure hadn’t stuck around to make sure she had the emotional support she needed.
He should have been there when she started getting the creepy notes. He should have been heading the investigation. He should have been protecting her. He never should have left her to fend for herself.
I failed her, man. I’m so sorry. I’m so damn sorry.