Page 65 of King of Praise
My hands move through familiar motions, gathering ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. It’s a simple recipe, one I could make in my sleep. But today everything feels wrong. The butter creams unevenly, the flour measurement is off, and I can’t find the right balance of liquid to solid. When I drop the first batch onto the baking sheet, the dough spreads too thin, creating misshapen puddles instead of perfect circles.
Frustration builds with each failed attempt. Even this—my one reliable skill, my means of maintaining control—has abandoned me. The third batch burns while I’m lost in worried thoughts, filling the cabin with the acrid smell of scorched sugar.
As I scrape blackened cookies into the trash, my vision blurs with tears. This helplessness, this feeling of being trapped while someone I care about faces unknown dangers, is unbearable.
I need …something. Advice. Reassurance. Understanding from someone who knows this world better than I do.
My personal phone, not the burner phone Micah gave, is heavy in my hand as I scroll through contacts. Olivia’s name draws my attention. She comes from this life, understands its complexities in ways I’m only beginning to grasp. More importantly, she’s seen behind the walls I maintain with others and knows the truth about my situation with Micah.
Before I can second-guess myself, I type out a message.
Naomi
Can we talk? Need advice about … everything.
Her response comes almost immediately.
Olivia
Of course sweetie. Where are you? I’ll come to you.
Naomi
It’s far.
Olivia
Don’t care. Send me a pin. I’ll be there soon.
My thumbs hover over the keypad. Micah has been adamant about maintaining secrecy regarding this location. Sharing it with anyone, even a trusted friend, feels like betrayal of that trust. But the thought of facing another evening alone with my fears proves stronger than caution.
I send the pin, adding the need for secrecy. Olivia will understand. She would never betray me.
Naomi
Please don’t share this with anyone. It’s complicated.
Olivia
Your secrets are safe with me. Give me two hours tops.
Dropping my phone onto the counter, I survey the mess I’ve made of the kitchen. Might as well clean up while I wait. The familiar routine of wiping counters and washing dishes provides minimal distraction from the larger anxieties plaguing me.
What if Micah discovers I’ve revealed our haven to someone else? What if his business in Columbus is more dangerous than he let on? What if—
A soft touch against my ankle startles me from these spiraling thoughts. Powder stares up at me with what seems like understanding, her rumbling purr a reminder that I’m not entirely alone. Scooping her into my arms, I bury my face in her soft fur.
“What am I doing?” I whisper against her neck. “Getting involved with another dangerous man, worrying about him, needing him?”
But Micah isn’t Lucas. The distinction feels important to acknowledge. The danger surrounding Micah comes from external threats rather than internal cruelty.
Still, as I wait for Olivia’s arrival, I wonder if I’ve traded one form of risk for another. The fear may be different—concern for his safety rather than terror of his temper—but it grips my heart just as tightly.
Outside, snow begins falling again, fat flakes drifting past the windows like scattered feathers. Somewhere in Columbus, Micah faces whatever business required his presence.Somewhere between here and there, Olivia heads my way to offer whatever wisdom she can share.
And I stand in this cabin, waiting for answers to questions I’m not even sure how to ask. Questions about love and fear, about the price of protection and the cost of caring too deeply for a man whose life exists in the shadows.
The fire crackles in the hearth, its warmth a poor substitute for Micah’s solid presence. Powder purrs against my chest, offering what comfort she can.
