Lindsay Delagair
Unforgivable
Prologue
I was running away, but I didn’t know where I was headed. It was dark and frightening. Everywhere I turned was another dead end. I wanted to scream his name; I wanted to see his face, but I couldn’t go back. I had to keep running. I wanted to turn around, but there was a force taking me away, and like a strong current in deep water, I was being pulled further out. The tears were coursing down my cheeks and I knew my life was over; he was gone and I’d never see him again.
I was holding something in my hands, and as I struggled to see what it was, I knew what I had to do with it. The knife was as dark as my surroundings, but the blade was razor sharp and I felt it bite into my palms as I traced the curve of it. It was over; there was no need to go on. What use is a heart that has lost its reason for beating? I gripped the handle and placed the tip of the blade against my chest.
Then I saw his face like a light in the darkness. His beautiful face was filled with love. I watched him come closer, his face changing, growing dimmer and angrier. He was right in front of me, close enough to reach out and touch me, but he wouldn’t.
His hands took the place of mine over the dagger’s handle and then he looked at me and asked, “Why did you throw my love away?”
I couldn’t answer; I could only cry.
I felt rain pouring down on me as thunder and lightning rolled.
Suddenly, fury exploded across his face as he jammed the blade into me. The pain was unlike anything I’d known. It was like ice on fire as it plunged through my dying heart. I collapsed. The rain washed into a river of blood, and the last word I whispered was his name, “Micah.”
Chapter One
I jerked upright in bed, choking back a sob. My chest heaved in pain, and beads of sweat rolled down my back. I had to catch my breath as the dream faded from my mind. I was gasping for air and shaking horribly. It was still storming outside as I watched lightening split the pre-dawn sky every few minutes. I glanced at the clock. It was 3:30 in the morning and the dream had been so vivid that I still felt the burn through my chest.
Mom would be worried when she got up and I wasn’t there, but I’d leave her a note before I slipped out to see him. I pulled on my clothes quickly and scribbled down a few sentences and tossed it onto my bed. Grabbing my purse and car keys, I went down to the garage. I hadn’t brushed my hair or put on makeup, but there wasn’t time. The dream had me so rattled that I simply had to see him and make sure that everything was still right in my world.
It had only been five days since he came back into my life, and I was so obsessed with the idea that something would happen to ruin our happiness that I was now repeating this terrifying nightmare. I had it last night, but I kept it together. Not tonight; I needed to be in his arms, knowing he was still here and that he still loved me.
My Aston Martin purred softly to life. The garage door opened and I backed out carefully, headlights off so as not to disturb my mother and sister. My tires rolled silently down the long drive as rain pelted my car. He was at the Hyatt until we could find a house we wanted to buy. Money wasn’t the issue; between the two of us, we could have purchased the White House, but it was more a matter of finding the perfect place to begin our new life.
We set the wedding date for September 15th, and that was fewer than three months away. I wanted it the day he proposed. I was ready to go to the courthouse and make it official right then, but he said he wanted me to have the kind of wedding that young girls dream about; a decorated church, flowers and bridesmaids, a man of God to take us through our vows as opposed to a clerk in the courthouse, a reception and dancing, and, of course, a honeymoon some place special. All I could think about was spending that first night in his arms and knowing there would be no reason to stop once we were pledged to each other forever.
I pulled into the Hyatt’s parking garage and ran through the lobby to the elevator, pressing the button for the seventh floor. I didn’t want to end up banging on his door at this time of the morning; that was a good way to get shot, so I dialed his cell phone as the elevator began its ascent.
Three rings and the elevator door was opening into the quiet interior hallway,
“Leese?” came the sleepy voice on the other end of the line, “What’s the matter? Are you okay?”
“Hey, can you come to your door? I’m right outside. I need to see you.” My emotions were rising with just the sound of his voice. I could feel the tears and the fright from my dream returning, making the need to see him urgent. The phone went silent, but within seconds the door to his room opened.
He was wearing only his boxers, standing there looking like a Greek god with his powerful physique. I know my panicked call scared him as he ushered me in and closed and locked the door. I was in his arms, my cheek against his chest and the tears were coming faster.
“Baby,” he crooned, “what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Oh, Micah, I had the most horrible dream and I had to come see you,” I said, trying to stop shaking so hard.
“A dream?” he said softly with a hint of mirth to his voice. “Do you want to sit up and talk about it?”
“Can we just lie together in your bed?”
I could hear the smile form on his face in the darkness, his mouth finding mine for a warm, slow kiss and then moving down my neck. “Baby, we’re never going to make it to our wedding night if we get in that bed.”
“Please, Micah. I’ve got to be with you. We’ve managed this before-I need to be in your arms.”
He scooped me off the floor and proceeded to the bed, never breaking the kisses he was placing on my neck. He was right. I wasn’t making it easy for us to save something for the wedding night, but I knew he could be a gentleman, he had proven that even when I wasn’t in my right mind, or my clothes.
He laid me down and I rolled away from him onto my side to give him room to slip in behind me. I felt his muscled arm reach around my waist and draw me against his firm body.
He sighed as he placed a final kiss on my neck, “What was the dream about?” he whispered.
My crying had started to subside and I found myself yawning deeply. The only place I could truly relax was in his embrace.
“Did you tell your mom you were coming over here to see me?
I yawned again, “No, I just left a note on my bed.”
“You’re really tired, aren’t you?”
“I can’t sleep anymore unless I have you with me-it’s like something is missing.”
He yawned and then nuzzled into my hair, “I know what you mean. I couldn’t sleep either. What about your dream?”
“How about we discuss it when we wake up?” Now that I was here, and secure in his hold, I didn’t want to tell him about the dream. I didn’t want to tell him that he ended my life with a blade to my heart. We were out from under the curse of his obligation to kill me. The hit was over when Robert was caught. Micah had spent months arranging his exit from the mafia and we were now free to face forever together.
“All right-in the morning. Goodnight, baby-I love you.”
I would never hear those three words enough. In that moment, I wanted to roll over and kiss him; kiss him with all the passion that he had awakened inside me not long after I’d met him. But, I knew if we both went over the edge, our wedding night would become now. I wanted to wait to make it right between us and God, but I was starting to wonder if God was truly concerned about a piece of paper between us or the commitment we had already made to each other?
