Page 24 of Vows From Hell

It was a rare sight to see him that carefree, and it wasn’t going to last. Our lives were too fucked up for us to be able to enjoy ourselves. So instead of arguing with him, I stood up from the bed with a sigh, wobbling as the sleepiness still hadn’t completely worn off.

Glancing down, I noticed that I was completely clean.

Something squeezed around my heart.

Micah dressed me in his shirt and cleaned me up entirely. As in, my hair was still a little wet. How the hell did he manage to bathe me without me waking up? Still, I wasn’t going to say anything. I was grateful that he was that careful with me.

He disappeared briefly, then returned with a pair of sweatpants and slippers. The sweatpants were undoubtedly his, from a while ago, since the size was too small to fit him now.

Silently, I followed him out of the basement. He grabbed my hand, intertwined our fingers together, and led me up the stairs.

He turned on the TV and put on a random show that I watched while he was preparing us breakfast. The blinds were closed shut for privacy, but rays of sunshine managed to sneak their way inside.

It was nearly time for Halloween, and it was too warm for October.

Just like the weather was unpredictable, so was our fate. I was anxious of the days approaching, knowing that at some point, I would have to make a decision. Something I wasn’t prepared for.

“It’s ready,’’ Micah called out. As if on cue, my stomach grumbled in agony.

I walked over to the already set-up table and took a seat. The breakfast consisted of a couple of pancakes, bacon, and toast. My favorite breakfast foods.

I didn’t wait for him to sit down and started eating immediately. I was too hungry to notice that the way I was eating resembled a pig. His eyes were on me at all times, and I could’ve sworn that he was suppressing his laughter.

“Stop laughing,’’ I mumbled, my mouth filled with food. “I’m hungry.’’

“Eat.’’ He pushed his plate toward me. “You’ve lost weight. Why aren’t you eating properly?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Could you if you were in my shoes? I mean, I’ve been having nightmares for three years. For god’s sake, I killed a man. I was afraid I’d get caught. Losing appetite just comes with that kind of stress, you know?”

“Wait, wait, wait.’’ He raised his hand up, eyes wide. “You did what?”

I blinked. “Uh, what?”

“You killed someone? What the fuck, Storm?”

I snorted. “You’re the one to talk.’’

“Stop it,’’ he gritted out. “It’s not a joking matter. Who did you kill and why don’t I know about it?”

I swallowed the last piece of pancake and pushed the plate away, no longer feeling hungry. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I stared at him.

“Of course, it’s not a joking matter. Do you see me laughing?’’

Micah closed his eyes briefly, nostrils flaring. Deep breathing didn’t seem to help, because once his eyes opened again, there wasn’t a single trace of the carefree man from a moment ago. His stern eyes made me glance away.

“Look at me,’’ he commanded. Why wasn’t I able to listen to my mind and did just as he asked?

“What did you do, Storm?”

The lack of my nickname stung. I’d gotten used to him calling me Bambi and hearing my name coming out of his mouth wasn’t a good feeling. It was unnatural and I didn’t like it.

I took a deep breath.

“Well, after I was taken to the hospital and you started your little run, the FBI was there. I found out that one of the cops someone shot didn’t die, and once I visited him, he told me he knew the kind of relationship we had, so I suffocated him with a pillow.’’

Micah sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. He remained silent for a couple of minutes, gathering his thoughts and wondering what the hell he’d just heard.

“No one saw you?”

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