Slow Heat (38 page)

“I’ll lock the doors.”

Maggie stepped out of his way and stalked into the kitchen, feeling her rage grow by the second as everything his father and uncle had said began repeating itself in her mind. She yanked open Micah’s oven door, which almost caused one side to come off its hinge, and remembered the pot holders at the last minute before pulling the bubbly, delectable-smelling dish out of the oven. Too bad her appetite was gone. She placed one of the pot holders on Micah’s worn-out countertop, then set the hot dish on top of it.

“Now where the hell do you get off toasting to me about honesty when you’ve been lying to me since the day you met me?” she shouted as she stormed into the living room.

Chapter Fifteen

Micah was sure he’d never felt more deflated in his entire life. Were his uncle’s parting words said out of spite? His meaning had been clear. Uncle Joe had just told him the only way he could possibly break the Mulligan curse was by leaving a woman without her being pregnant. His mother had left him and his dad when Micah had been ten. Micah remembered her … vaguely. Maybe Uncle Joe said what he did to grab Micah’s attention so he’d come running, demanding the truth, but at least he’d be with them. Or maybe what he’d said had been true. In which case Micah would demand to know the truth about what happened between his parents.

He sank onto his couch and looked over at Maggie. She had no idea how incredibly hot she looked. Her bright blue eyes were wild and her hair messed up just enough to show any attentive observer that she’d recently been well fucked. That sexy silk robe she wore had loosened at the waist and opened up so that the V-neck was low enough to offer one hell of a view of her cleavage. That hot little number she had on underneath it pressed her boobs together so that the swell of her breasts was even more enticing.

“I had planned on telling you everything before they showed up,” he told her, knowing if he told her how beautiful she was right now he might get slapped for his efforts.

“Nice try at a save,” she spit out, then turned on her heel and marched over to the wine.

Micah came off the couch and grabbed the bottle from her before she could pour any into her glass. “I already know how you are when you’ve had a few too many.”

He was ready when she turned around swinging. Micah grabbed the fist that was meant for his jaw with his free hand. “I will answer any of your questions, tell you whatever you want to know, but no hitting and no drinking or the deal is off.”

“You’re in no position to lay out any ultimatums,” she sneered and tried taking the bottle from his hand.

He could physically prevent her from taking it, but if Maggie wanted it badly enough the moment he put it down she would grab it. “Fine,” he relented, and reached for her glass on the counter then filled it halfway. “You aren’t driving if you get drunk and I won’t budge on that one.”

Maggie accepted the glass and took a small sip. “Why did you lie to me about your last name?” she demanded.

“I didn’t know you,” he explained, promising himself he would make sure everything he told her was as truthful as it could be. She’d been through enough, and so had he. Micah didn’t want to lose her. He hadn’t figured out yet how he would keep her, but somehow there had to be a way. “I’d been in LA for three months before meeting you and had been Micah Jones since moving here.”

“Why did you change your last name?” Her eyes grew wide and she pointed a finger at his chest. “You’re running from the law, aren’t you? That’s why Judge Stabler knew who you were. He knew you were on the run.”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she shouted in his face.

He’d known the moment she had remembered that Stabler had called him Mulligan. Part of him had hoped she would never remember that night. But if they were going to begin a relationship together, their foundation wouldn’t be woven with lies.

“I’m not wanted for any crime, Maggie. I promise.”

“My brother showed my father that Micah Jones had no past,” she informed him. “For two days before he left, Aiden followed me wherever I went in the house trying to get me to see I was spending time with a man who was bad news. He never raised an ounce of doubt in me. No matter how many times he showed me that you were a blank slate prior to a few months ago, I was able to explain to him simply and logically how that could be.”

She stared at her wine, swooshed the blood-red alcohol around in the narrow, long glass but didn’t take a sip. When she tilted her head, almost letting it fall back to stare into his eyes, the pain he saw there was staggering. Maggie cared about him, a lot. She quite possibly loved him, too. Suddenly Micah was more committed than he’d been a moment ago to making sure Maggie understood every bit of the morbid truth. He prayed she wouldn’t walk out on him once she knew everything.

“When you showed up at my doorstep, I was bored, restless. Working for KFA was barely satisfying my craving for the hunt.”

Maggie frowned but didn’t say anything. He turned from her and paced across his living room, letting his memories trail back to the day the two of them had met.

“I remember entering your office at Club Paradise,” he told her, taking his time turning around but only looking at her for a moment. The sooner he got all of this out, the better. “It only took a few minutes talking to you to doubt your guilt but I’d been told to find a bookkeeper, if there was one, and to bring him or her out to the police. As long as I’ve hunted, I’ve accepted the orders given to me and found whoever I was hunting without question. I did the same thing when I worked with my father and uncle.”

He sighed. He was being vague but not lying. Micah didn’t want to hurt her any more than she already was. This was a start. He would elaborate more as needed. But if the pain on her face increased, he wasn’t sure he could bear it. He was experiencing emotions for the first time; his love for her, his need to protect her and keep her from harm. Until now, Micah had only worried about himself. He had worried for his father and uncle, of course, but had also known they were very skilled in taking care of themselves.

“I’d run down quite a few people who’d skipped out on their bail before meeting you, but not one of them stuck in my head like you did. So when you showed up here asking me to find out why they suspected you, and to find out who was truly behind the money laundering, the only thing that crossed my mind was how strong the physical reaction was between us.”

“I was barely able to concentrate while talking to you,” she murmured.

Maggie wasn’t through being pissed off. He knew how deep her temper ran. Micah fought off the urge to go to her and instead focused on telling her what she needed to hear.

“None of this explains why you went by Jones,” she reminded him, proving she was still angry.

“It was because of my life prior to moving here.”

“I’d already gathered that,” she said sardonically.

“My plans initially were to stay here a year then return to my father and uncle,” he explained. “And to my old life. While I was here, I didn’t want anyone knowing I was here. It never crossed my mind I would fall for a lady whose family would care enough to check on who their sister and daughter was spending time with. I believed I’d be able to keep a low-enough profile that my boss wouldn’t have his suspicions confirmed after I killed four men and fire me because they’d worked too hard to build up their business to have someone like me come along and destroy what they had.”

“How could you destroy what they have?”

“Because of who I am.”

Maggie stared at him. Her breath came faster, causing her snug outfit under her robe to press her breasts together more. Micah didn’t focus on them as much as how her face paled. She was imagining the worst. And whatever thoughts she conjured in her mind, none of them were as bad as the truth. She wanted to love the man she believed him to be right now. Maggie was scared that if she learned about the monster she had caught glimpses of already, she wouldn’t be able to love that man. He saw it on her face and it tore at the monster inside him, who was already snarling and demanding it not be revealed. It created a fear inside him unlike anything he had ever known. No one had ever been able to look at him and read him as well as Maggie did. Not his father or uncle, not anyone.

She straightened, tugged at her robe, adjusted the tie around her waist, and lifted her head. That stubborn look he found so adorable appeared on her face. Maggie believed herself ready for the truth.

“Go on,” she prompted, and kept her head held high.

“Those four men aren’t the first four men I’ve killed.”

“So you are wanted for murder.”

“No, sweetheart. I promise there are no warrants for me anywhere.” Micah reached for his pendant before he could stop himself. The chance existed King might turn the law on him. It would be a first for him. He would become a fugitive. Would Maggie run with him? A small cruel voice in the back of his head laughed at the absurdity of that thought. Maggie was too good a person to be an outlaw.

“You’ve never been caught but you didn’t want to take any chances?” she asked weakly.

Maggie entered his kitchen and Micah followed. She put down the wineglass, picked up the wine bottle, tipped it to her lips, and drank. When she turned around her lips were wet. She burped quietly, pressed her fingers over her lips, and looked up at him.

“Who did you kill and why did you kill them?” she asked, and tilted the bottle back for more.

“I didn’t know any of them.”

Micah felt sick. Maggie would hate him when she knew the truth. Guzzling that entire bottle of wine wouldn’t make her numb enough to accept the monster. There was no way he could erase his past, but he would do anything if she would be part of his future.

“They were men or women who had committed crimes.”

“That’s why you killed them?”

“I was paid to kill them,” he said, barely managing to utter the words and terrified of the look of disgust and hatred that would cross Maggie’s face once she understood.

Maggie slapped him across the face so hard and yet he barely felt the sting. Micah wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to feel again.

“Get out of my way,” she yelled, shoving at him.

Maggie rushed down his hallway to his bedroom, grabbed her clothes she’d put on his bed after they’d made love, then stormed into his bathroom and slammed the door hard enough to shake his house.

“Maggie,” he said when she came out of the bathroom.

She was dressed and had her silk outfit he’d looked forward to taking off her later that night balled in her fist.

“Don’t,” she gulped, holding her hand up at him.

Micah spotted her tear-stained face when she grabbed her purse and pulled out her keys. Her sobs destroyed him as much as his front door slamming down on his heart as she stalked out of his life.

There was no point in trying to sleep. Maggie sent every call he made to her to voicemail. He considered going after her but didn’t think he could handle her rejection twice. It took less than an hour grabbing his few possessions from the house. The furniture and kitchen utensils had come with the place. He washed up the dishes Maggie had used, then stared at the manicotti on his counter. It was probably really good. There was no way he could swallow a bite.

By the time he’d woken up his dad, found out where they were, then driven his bike to the hotel, the sun was rising. His uncle answered the door and let him into the dark, cold suite. Micah entered, feeling as if he were entering a tomb.

“Thought you didn’t want to join us.” His uncle followed him into the room wearing his boxers, then crawled back into one of the two double beds and pulled the blankets up to his waist. He propped pillows behind him and lit a cigarette.

“I don’t,” Micah told him, having no problem staying on his honesty kick.

“I see.” Uncle Joe’s cigarette lit up in the dark room as he took a long drag and stared straight ahead without saying anything.

Micah placed his duffel bag full of everything he owned on the round table alongside the closed curtains. He sat and leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest and straightened out his legs. Stiff muscles were setting in but he didn’t care. All he saw was the overwhelming amount of pain on Maggie’s tear-stained face when she stormed out of his life.

Micah pulled out his phone and stared at the glowing face in the dark. He opened up a new message page and stared at the blinking line in the empty text box. What could he say to her that would make a difference? He’d told her the truth and as he’d known already, it was more than she could handle.

“What did you tell her?” his father asked.

Micah shifted his attention to his dad’s bare back. He lay sideways on the far bed, his head to the wall. The blankets draped over his bare waist. Even in the darkness Micah saw the thick white scar that ran down his dad’s back like a lightning bolt. His dad had ripped his back open on barbed wire he hadn’t seen in the dark while getting away from a bear. He’d been younger than Micah when it had happened. Micah thought of all the scars on his own body. Maggie had pressed her fingertips to a few of them but had never said anything. When they’d first had sex she’d been curious about him but hadn’t asked any questions. From the beginning they’d both known the truth was more than she could handle. They’d also both known their relationship couldn’t go anywhere without honesty. He and Maggie had been doomed from the start.

“Don’t worry about it,” Micah grunted.

“How much does she know?” his dad demanded, rolling over in his bed and propping himself up on his elbow. He stared his son down. “No fling is worth risking your life, boy,” he growled.

“Maggie wasn’t some fucking fling.” Micah hopped out of his chair and stalked the length of the hotel room, turning hard before he reached the door. “This is what both of you wanted. I’m here. Get up. Let’s go. I can’t stay in this motel room any longer.”

“Let’s hit the road, Jacob.” Uncle Joe climbed out of his bed again and turned on the lamp next to him. “It’s smart to get on the road early.”