Page 71 of Pretty Heartache

“I haven’t seen him in years, Addy,” Micah explains. His voice is smaller, as if he’s afraid the truth will cause me to leave, and it just might. But the fear in Micah’s expression makes me stay for now. I want to listen.

“I told him to leave,” he adds.

“Why was he here?” My voice quakes. I’m afraid of his answer. Anything involving my father can’t be good.

“I don’t know.” He blinks, but I know he’s holding back, only giving me a partial truth.

“You’re lying.” I sniff, wiping my hand under my nose. I feel myself slipping away. “If he was here, there was a reason.”

“I’m not lying.” He takes a step up to the one below me.

“Was he here asking you for drugs?”

His face pales. If my father is involved, it must involve drugs, too. I swallow, scared of the answer to my next question. “Are you his dealer, Micah?”

His shoulders fall, and he swallows. I feel the blood drain from my face and pool at my feet.

A heavy breath leaves his chest. “Not anymore.”

My bottom lip wobbles as I take in a shaky breath. Chills slither down my neck, making my heart race. “But you were?” My lungs squeeze, forcing the words to leave my mouth.

Micah runs his hand down the side of his face, clearly conflicted with how to answer.

“Yes,” he admits, so quietly, I almost don’t hear him.

A sob rattles in my chest.

“But that was a long time ago,” he’s quick to add. “I guess he came here thinking I still had some pills for him.”

I cover my mouth with my hand. There’s truth to what Micah is telling me. I see it in the way he’s desperately and silently begging for this to not cause me to walk out the door. He’s holding his breath, anticipation thick in the air.

I want to cry. I want to scream. My past will forever haunt me.

“I’m sorry.” His eyes swim with genuine regret.

“I believe you, but I know you aren’t telling me everything. The world of money and drugs has many secrets, Micah. You know that better than anyone. And I can’t stay here. Not anymore.”

“Addy, no,” he pleads, with a softened, wounded expression.

“He might come back,” I tell him, blinking away the fear, hoping it will leave, knowing it won’t. “And I can’t risk that. I don’t want to see him.”

I slide past him, but he stops me when my foot steps on the landing. I’m only five feet from the door, and Micah isdesperately pulling me back. He wraps his hand around mine, and

my back lands softly against the wall. He presses his body against mine, towering over me, lifting his arm above me. I tip my chin higher.

“Where are you going to go?” he asks.

“Ember’s.” I’m not confident in my answer. I know Ember can take me in maybe for a few nights, but it won’t be permanent. The same fear that propelled me to leave the first time is back with the same force.

I wish there were some island I could escape to—one where no one could hurt me.

“There’s nowhere safer than here with me.” He brings his mouth close to mine.

“Micah…”

I want to stand on my toes and give in. I want to taste him and feel him. I want his touch to numb the pain coming back to life inside my soul. I want to stay in this bubble we’ve created, where Archer doesn’t know I’ve fallen for his best friend, and where my father hasn’t shown up, asking for me. Deep down, I know that if he knows I’m here, it means he’ll tell my mother, and the vicious cycle of emotional abuse will wash, rinse, and repeat.

I avoid looking at Micah. If I allow myself to stare into his blue-gray eyes, I’ll give in.

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