Page 19 of Captive Heart

Micah rubbed his hands over his face. God! He was completely out of his depth here. He had given up his lucrative and wildly successful psychology practice because his compassion and empathy were too profound and ran too deep. He felt too intensely, became too involved and too invested in the outcomes.

He wasn't a vain man, but he was aware that he had attracted many women to his practice because of his good looks and muscled build. Superficial things which shouldn't have been important.

But these were women who were already damaged to some extent or another, and too many of them had ended up projecting their affections on a handsome face, an attentive ear, and a willingness to help.

Some of it was a part of their initial affliction, some of it was what they perceived as his interest, because he genuinely listened and tried to support them.

Micah had ended up feeling as if he helped no one when the weight of their expectations skated too close to a personal and unprofessional interest from which he had to extract himself.

In the end, it had caused him too much pressure and frustration, too much heartache.

And Sara's death, even though she had never been his patient, had been the very last straw.

Joel, Jake, Logan, and Connor thought they had lured him away with their ludicrously generous offer to become manager of Club Risqué, but in fact, it had been his salvation.

Now, here he was again, with a woman much more damaged than any he had seen. One who identified as a slave, just as Sara had done, and who also wanted him as the master he didn't wish to be.

And on top of it all, Micah knew he was in danger of being sucked in far beyond where he was comfortable, out of some kind of misplaced sense of guilt over his ex and his own innate need and dedication toward championing the healthy mind and supporting his fellow souls in fulfilling their potential in life as the best version of themselves they could be.

But no matter what the cost to his own psyche, there was no way he could turn his back on Melody. It went against everything he believed in, and he knew with certainty, although it had not yet been verbally established, that she had no one else to rely on.

Sighing, he did his best to push aside his doubts and reservations, so he could concentrate on the woman who needed him.

"Let's try this in more general terms, shall we?" he asked gently. "Why don't you tell me the things that have happened in your life, and I'll ask a few questions when I need to clarify a certain point? What do you think?"

"Of course, Master," she agreed readily.

Micah closed his eyes and sucked in a quiet breath. "Micah," he reminded her once more.

"I don't know where to start, Ma…Micah," she replied, worrying at her chapped and split lips with her teeth until he couldn't help but to lean forward and press his thumb against her chin in order that she release it before any more damage was done.

The touch was brief, but he couldn't help but notice the confusion in Melody's eyes, as if such gentleness and consideration were completely foreign to her and she didn't know quite how to react to it.

"Start at the beginning," Micah encouraged, fighting his instinctive urge to show her what a little affection might feel like.

Jesus! What was wrong with him? The last thing the poor woman needed was him slobbering all over her, but somehow, he just couldn't shake the idea that he'd like to show her a softer side of life.

He shook himself impatiently. He needed to get with the programme! "Tell me about your childhood, your family. A brief history of your life, finishing with how you got here."

Melody took a deep breath and looked away, frowning slightly before she started to speak.

"My parents died when I was young," she began, hesitantly at first. "I hardly remember it all. I think I was seven…or maybe nine. I didn't have any brothers or sisters."

Her expression took on a far-away look as if she was physically gazing back on her past and seeing it in her mind's eye.

"There were a couple of foster homes when I was younger. They were okay, not great, but not bad, either. The last couple I was placed with got divorced, so I ended up finishing my supervision in a children's home."

She started to speak with more confidence as she began to relax.

"As soon as I came of age, I knew I was going to be on my own. There wasn't a lot of help. I was just expected to move out and get on with my life. But there was a man I used to see around, outside, near the home, and one day, he approached me. I knew I wasn't the first. He'd spoken to some of the other girls, and they thought he was a bit creepy. But he was nice, actually."

Micah held his breath as well as his tongue, concerned with the seemingly predatory nature of the events she was describing. But she had become more comfortable now and he didn't want to jeopardise that by interrupting. Not just yet, anyway, even though he was making a mental note of all the new questions that were now teeming in his head.

"Anyway, he explained that he wanted a companion. That he wanted to be the daddy I didn't have and that if I went to live with him, then he would look after me."

Melody let out a deep sigh and looked at him finally, a hint of defiance, the first real glimpse he had seen, in her eyes.

"I’m not stupid. I knew he didn't really mean that kind of daddy, and I knew it would include sex, but I was okay with that. I was glad to have somewhere to go. Too many of the kids I grew up with ended up living on the streets, working as hookers or doing drugs…or both. Daddy was a step up from all that, as far as I was concerned."

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