Page 103 of Meet Me In The Dark

Five years later

As soon as Micah opened the door, he heard the screams.

But he just stood there and watched as a naked woman wearing ridiculous fuzzy socks skidded around the corner, saw him, screamed again, and went running in the other direction.

Luke just swaggered after her, not even breaking a sweat.

“You know, you should just give up now,” he called.

“You’ll never catch me, motherfucker!” she yelled back from some other part of the house.

Smiling, Micah glanced in the window. His tattoo, now complete, shone in the reflection. The army rifle shooting out the green stem now had a strawflower poking out at the end, red and gold like the colors of Kara’s hair and eyes. They’d all gotten tattoos together: Conor had covered up his old Semper Fi tattoo with an eagle holding a bunch of bee balm in its claw; Luke, an ocean wave crashing over a mountain; and Kara now had a knotted rope made up of theirnames wrapped around her inner right thigh. When she’d gotten the tattoo done, all three men had hovered over her, glaring at the tattoo artist as if warning her to keep her hands from wandering. Kara had laughed for a few minutes, until the pain zoned her out entirely. She’d been putty in their hands afterward.

“I give it two minutes,” Luke called to Kara, winking at Micah.

Micah watched as Luke put a finger to his lips and stepped into the shadows underneath the staircase. At first, Luke’s abandonment fears hadn’t gone away, rearing their ugly heads when Kara left to go see Lola, or Conor visited his mother and sister, or when Micah went to talk some sense into his little brother. He’d been extra harsh with his punishments after. But each time they came back, each time they made it clear he was essential to their foursome, he became more and more relaxed.

Kara, for her part, threatened to send all of them to therapy, but when they pointed out that they couldn’t talk about their “day jobs,” she’d given up, calling them macho men with affectionate exasperation.

“I guess you’ll have to rely on the healing powers of my pussy,” she’d said, and they’d all agreed.

Kara appeared around the corner, holding water balloons, which she threw at both Luke and Micah. “Two minutes, huh?” she called, then disappeared again.

“She’s going to ruin the floors,” Conor commented from beside him.

Micah glanced over. His lover had a soft smile on his face. There was an ease to him these days, a self-acceptance that had been missing before.

“They’re her floors,” Micah pointed out, trying not to grimace at the water potentially warping the hardwoods.

They’d put the deed in her name, reasoning that, if anything ever happened to them, she’d be safe and cared for. Besides, the house had always been meant for her.

He heard the woman in question shriek from the kitchen.

“You can’t use your height against me!”

“You’re using your tits,” came Luke’s reply.

“You know,” Conor said, watching Micah, “I’m onto you.”

Micah smirked. “Are you?” he asked.

“You pulled our strings like marionette puppets to get us here.”

“You could argue that,” Micah admitted. “But it was more setting things up so you could all find your own way.”

Conor shook his head. “You fucking manipulative mastermind.” Then: “Thank you.”

Micah backed Conor up against the wall, and kissed him, one of the rare times between them when he took blatant control. Conor let him, before kissing him back and taking over, conquering Micah with licks and bites until they were both panting and hard.

Kara re-appeared in the hall, hands on her hips. “He stole my water balloons, and you assholes are what, making out? Help me.”

Conor laughed. “No, bad girl. You take what’s coming to you.”

She glared. “Goddamn traitors.”

Footsteps, loud and ominous, sounding behind her.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she gasped, looking around for a place to hide.

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