Chapter 4: Micah - Keeping Knight

The moment I hear Sampson’s sharp yip from across the condo, I know something’s wrong.

It’s not a playful bark, or the one he occasionally uses when he’s eager to be fed and thinks I’m waiting too long. This one is a warning. It’s the bark I taught Sampson to make when he suspects danger, but there isn’t an outright threat to act on.

Jabbing the power button on the treadmill, I leap off it while the belt is still moving. My right knee twinges with pain, reminding me that at thirty-seven, I’m not as young as I used to be. “Nearly forty,” my mother likes to remind me. “It’s time for you to settle down. Get married. Start a family.”

Easy for her to say. She doesn’t have to navigate dating and the inevitable disappointments that come with it. And I’m not even sure I want to get married, let alone have kids.

But just as the lingering ache in my knee, my mother’s blatant yearning for grandkids doesn’t matter right now. What matters is finding out what Sampson is barking at and addressing it.

I race across the exercise room, and just as I burst into the hallway, Sampson yips again.

My pulse jumps.

My hand automatically reaches for my switchblade, but all it meets is the empty mesh pocket of my shorts. “Dammit,” I mutter. Normally, I wouldn’t carry around my switchblade when I’m in my own home. But with Ruby here…

In the hallway, I take a sharp right and jog towards the living room. Once I reach it, I scan the dimly lit room, searching for anything out of place. But it looks just as it did when I came through half an hour ago. Through the floor to ceiling windows, the sky is still dark, with only the smallest sliver of light peeking above the horizon.

Halfway across the living room, a low moan carries towards me. On the heels of that, Sampson yips again.

Worry shifts to fear.

It has to be Ruby.

Putting on a burst of speed, I sprint to the stairs that lead to the suite of bedrooms upstairs. As I take the steps two at a time, I inwardly curse the two-story condo while wishing I lived someplace smaller. Someplace quicker to get around.

I shouldn’t have gone to the exercise room, I scold myself. It’s too far from Ruby. I should have skipped my workout this morning in favor of sticking close to her. If I were really so set on getting my workout in, I could have grabbed some free weights and used them in my bedroom.

Instead, Ruby’s in trouble, and I’m not there. Again.

What’s wrong? Is it her throat? Has it swollen further, and now she’s lying in bed, struggling to breathe? Or is she suffering from a different injury that the doctors missed? I know they ran X-rays and did a physical examination, but what about a CT scan and ultrasound?

Dammit. I should have made sure. Just because I’m not Ruby’s family doesn’t mean I couldn’t have put pressure on the doctors to run extra tests. While I don’t like using the Sutton name as leverage, given the circumstances, it would have been worth it.

But it’s always felt wrong. Using my connection with Fox & Falcon is one thing, like I did to convince the paramedics to allow me to ride in the ambulance. I earned my place at F&F. I work my ass off to make it a success. My family fortune, on the other hand? I had nothing to do with it.

When I reach the hallway that leads to the bedrooms, Ruby moans again. Now that I’m closer to her, I can hear an undercurrent of fear. Because she’s in pain? Fighting to breathe? Or is she simply having a nightmare?

Heart pounding, I run towards the bedroom where Ruby is staying. I put her in the room beside mine, so I’d be close by if she needed me. And it made it easier to check on her every hour throughout the night to make sure her throat hadn’t closed up from the damage to it.

Stupid me, by five AM, I thought it would be safe to leave her. And look what happened.

Not bothering to knock on the partly-ajar door, I shove it open and race inside. As soon as I enter, my gaze sweeps the room, flicking across the dressers, desk, and armchair before moving to the bed.

Beside it is Sampson, standing at attention. His ears are back. His tail is tucked down. When he hears me enter the room, he glances in my direction and lets out a low whine.

Tangled in the covers, Ruby rolls over and hunches into herself. Her legs kick at nothing. Her head tosses back and forth on the pillow. As I’m watching, she flinches as though she’s been struck. She whimpers. Then she jerks violently, nearly launching herself off the bed.

Instinct has me darting forward to catch her, and I brace her shoulder with my hand, holding her steady. The instant I touch her, her eyes fly open, unfocused and filled with fear.

“No!” she yelps. “No!”

Guilt slams into me.

I did this. I scared her. She’s frightened of me.

Yanking my hand away, I say, “It’s just me. Micah. You’re at my condo. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Still caught up in her nightmare—or at least, I’m assuming that’s what it was—she stares at me in confusion. Tears dampen her flushed cheeks. Her hair is all in tangles around her face. Tremors shake her body.

“It’s okay,” I repeat, because I know she may need to hear it several times before it sinks in. “You know me. Micah Sutton. You’re at my condo. You’re safe.”

I lose track of how many times I say it before recognition fills Ruby’s gaze. In an achingly small voice, she whispers, “Micah?”

Relief seeps in. “Yeah. It’s me.” Not wanting to loom over her, I perch on the edge of the bed, leaving plenty of space between us. “It’s just me. Sorry I scared you. But you were moving around, and I was afraid you might fall off the bed.”

With only the light from the hallway to brighten the room, her tears shine wetly. The bruises on her face and neck are dark smudges against her skin. She lifts a trembling hand to her throat. “It’s not your—” She winces. “It’s not your fault.”

Her gaze drifts from my face to my chest, and her eyes widen. An unreadable expression flickers in her eyes.

Belatedly, I realize I’m sitting on her bed with my shirt off. In my hurry to get to her, I hadn’t thought to throw a shirt on. And now I’m sitting here, half-dressed, at a time when Ruby’s feeling most vulnerable. If she wasn’t having doubts about staying here before, I’d put money on her having them now.

Before I can say anything, Ruby glances at the clock on the nightstand. Her forehead pulls. “Oh.” She swallows again, trying unsuccessfully to hide her wince. “I woke you up. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t,” I reply. “I was working out. Then I heard Sampson bark. He doesn’t bark like that unless something’s wrong. So I came right here.”

As her hand flutters down from her throat, I ask, “Is it worse? Your throat? Is it hard to breathe? I can take a look. See if the swelling’s gotten any worse.”

“No. It’s not worse.” She pushes herself to a seated position and straightens the blanket over her legs. Then she looks back at me, carefully avoiding my chest. “It’s sore. But I can breathe okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Ruby nods. “I’m sure.” Glancing at Sampson, who’s still watching her avidly, she adds, “I’m sorry, Sampson. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“He’s fine.” Reaching over, I give Sampson a scratch between his ears. “I trained him to give an alert bark if he senses anything unusual. Not a direct threat—then he’d make a different bark—but something that could indicate trouble. So when he heard you having a nightmare...”

Some of the tension drains from Ruby’s face. Her features soften. “He was worried about me. He thought I might be in danger.” She leans over and offers the back of her hand to him. “Thank you. You were a really good watchdog.”

Sampson’s tail perks up, and he nudges her hand. The faintest smile touches her lips, and she strokes his head. Then she turns back to me. “I’m sorry, Micah. For interrupting your workout. And making you come running… It’s so embarrassing.”

I frown. “Embarrassing? Having a nightmare isn’t embarrassing.”

“But—” Ruby plucks at the blanket. “You’ve already done so much. I don’t want to put you out even more.”

“You aren’t putting me out,” I say firmly. “And there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. At all. Most of the people I know have dealt with nightmares at some point. Some of them still do. It’s not pleasant, but it’s natural. It’s just your brain trying to deal with something upsetting.”

She stares at the blanket for a few seconds. “I guess so.”

“Do you want to try to go back to sleep?” I ask. “I can get you some water. Or some tea. Do you want me to look for a nightlight, so the room isn’t so dark?”

“That’s okay. I don’t think I can sleep now. Maybe I’ll try to find something to watch on TV. Or read a book on my phone. Although I guess I should email my client. Tell her I might be a day or two late with her manuscript. With everything going on, and not having my laptop with me...”

“I’ll get your laptop. And anything else you need from your apartment. Just make me a list.”

“You don’t have to⁠—”

“Ruby.” My voice firms. “I don’t offer things I don’t want to do. I’ll get your things. I want to go to your apartment anyway to make sure the door and window were replaced properly.”

“Oh.” For a moment, Ruby looks lost. “Well. You probably want to get back to your workout. Since I’m not going back to sleep, you won’t have to worry about me interrupting it again.”

“I’m done with my workout.” That’s not true. I still have another thirty minutes of weights and twenty with the punching bag. But the idea of leaving Ruby to go back to my exercise room, especially when she looks so small and lost? I can’t.

“How about I make you something to eat?” I add. “Some tea or coffee, at least. And I think I’ve got some oatmeal. That should be soft enough not to hurt your throat too much.”

“Are you—” Ruby stops. Her lips tug up. “Right. You don’t offer unless you want to.”

“Right. And I know I’d like some coffee. We can have it in the solarium. There’s a really nice view from there when the sun comes up.”

“The solarium?”

“That’s what the realtor called it. It’s just a living room, really. But I have plants in there, since it’s the room that gets the most sun.”

She looks at me for a long moment. Then she nods and gives me an actual smile. “Okay. That would be nice.”

* * *

I couldn't help noticing how cute Ruby looked in my clothes last night, but I tried really hard not to.

She was hurt, after all. Scared. Traumatized. My only concern should have been taking care of her.

But shit, does she look good in them.

I can’t explain it. But there’s just something about seeing her swamped in my clothes—my old Army sweatshirt hanging halfway down her thighs and her fingers barely poking out from the sleeves—that strikes a chord deep inside me.

With it brings a bone-deep need to protect. To comfort. To hold her in my arms and wipe away her tears when she cries. To take away her pain.

It’s not just that, though.

As I watch Ruby walk into the kitchen, looking so damn vulnerable and sweet in my sweatshirt and shorts, a surge of possessiveness comes over me. I like her in my clothes. Not just because of how she looks in them, but because they’re mine.

“I know I look silly,” Ruby says. She pushes a sleeve up, but it almost immediately falls past her fingers again. “I think I could wear this as a dress.” A moment later, her cheeks go pink. “Shoot. That makes me sound ungrateful. I’m not. At all. Your sweatshirt is great. It’s soft and warm and...”

“Comfy?” I offer with a smile.

She brightens. “Yes. Comfy.” Joining me at the counter, she looks down at the two bowls of oatmeal I’m putting the final touches on. More elaborate than the plain oats I usually have, I’ve added brown sugar, a bit of cream, a sprinkle of cinnamon and nutmeg, and, for the final touch, a dollop of Nutella. Gourmet cooking, it’s not. But I didn’t want to just hand Ruby a bowl of plain oatmeal, either.

“Micah.” Her gaze jumps up to mine. “This looks great. Thank you.”

I shrug. “It’s just oatmeal. With a few things added.”

“It looks good to me,” Ruby insists.

She reaches for one of the bowls, but I pull it out of her way. “I’ve got them,” I tell her as I balance both bowls in one hand. “You don’t need to do anything.”

Her chin takes on a defiant tilt. “I think I can manage a bowl of oatmeal.”

“I know you can. But you don’t have to.” Nodding at the coffee maker a few feet down on the counter, I add, “There’s fresh coffee. Sugar is in the jar to the left. Creamer’s in the fridge. I have plain or sweetened. Why don’t you make your coffee while I handle the oatmeal?”

Ruby glances at the steaming carafe of coffee. “How did you find time to do all of this? I didn’t think I was in the shower that long.” She tugs a damp curl, and I watch with fascination as it springs back when she releases it. “Usually I spend ten minutes messing with my hair. But without my usual products, it took less time.”

“Messing with your hair?” Before I can stop myself, I touch one of her curls. “Your hair looks perfect. It always does.”

Ruby laughs. The sound loosens the band that’s been wrapped around my chest since I found her last night. “My hair only looks that way because I mess with it. If I don’t use special products and my diffuser… Well. You’ll see when my hair dries without it.”

“It looks perfect,” I repeat. “Just as it is. But tell me whatever you need, and I’ll make sure to get it later.”

A faint pink moves across Ruby’s cheeks.

Her gaze falls to my chest and lingers for a second. The pink deepens.

Because she’s thinking about earlier, and still feels uncomfortable about it?

Or did she like what she saw, and now she’s remembering?

I’m not a vain guy by any means, but I’ve been told by more than a few women that I have a good body. I should, really, given how much I work out for my job. But surely Ruby wasn’t thinking about my body in the aftermath of her nightmare. She was just startled to see me without my shirt on.

Although. Am I really going to pretend I’ve never seen her give me an admiring glance when she thinks I’m not paying attention? Or that I haven’t done the same? Just because I haven’t asked her out doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed how pretty Ruby is or wondered how her sweet little body would look naked.

The thought of Ruby naked is enough to wake my eager dick up. Quickly ducking behind the kitchen island, I send a silent but stern command for it to settle down. Not now, I tell it. Sex is very much not on the table. So, settle back down.

Thankfully, Ruby’s been occupied with preparing her coffee, so I don’t think she noticed anything. Mug in one hand, she sets the creamer back in the fridge with the other, closes the door, and turns to me. “Do you need some coffee, too?”

“I already had some,” I reply, “while I was cooking the oats. So I’m all set.” Gesturing at the doorway to our right, I add, “The solarium is just through here.”

“Okay.” She waits for me to go ahead, then follows close behind. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in an apartment with its own solarium.”

An itchy feeling comes over me. “It’s just another room. It’s nothing special.”

“Just a room?” Ruby asks as soon as I flick on the light. Her gaze sweeps across the expansive room, along the sculptures and furniture and paintings my interior decorator picked out, past the plants lining the window, to the sweeping view of the city. She snorts softly. “This isn’t just a room, Micah. It’s…” She looks around again. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s nice when the sun comes up.” Touching her back, I guide Ruby towards the couch near the window. “Other than that, I don’t spend much time out here.”

Ruby settles onto the couch and tucks her legs pretzel-style in front of her. “I bet the sunrises are amazing from here.”

“They’re pretty nice,” I agree. “Although I still prefer watching the sunrise over the ocean, instead.”

She takes a sip of coffee and winces slightly as she swallows. “Ocean sunrises are the best. When I was a kid, my parents used to take me to Maine every summer. Ogunquit. We’d go out on the rocks and watch the lobster boats while the sun rose.” A sad expression moves across her face. “Those were really good times.”

I know that Ruby’s dad passed away last year, and that her mom’s been gone since she was twelve. So thinking about old vacations with them has to be bittersweet. My hand comes to her leg without thinking. “I bet they were.”

Ruby stares out the window at the brilliant golds and oranges rising. “Yeah.” She sets her coffee on the table beside the couch and picks up her bowl of oatmeal. “So.” Turning slightly towards me, she says, “I didn’t ask last night. With everything else going on. But I heard you mention to one of the paramedics that you had medical training. Was that something everyone had to do? To be a Ranger or a Delta, I mean?”

“Oh, no.” Leaning back, I loop my arm over the back of the couch. “I was a medic first. Combat medic, more specifically. Then, when I joined Delta, I served as the medic for our team. It was only later that I got into dog handling.”

Ruby’s amber eyes brighten with interest, shifting to a molten gold. “How did you get into that?”

It takes me a second to answer, because my attention slips to the bruises around her neck. They’re darker than last night. The purplish shade is more lurid. And the sight of them fills me with rage.

Breathing deeply against the anger, I raise my gaze to meet hers. “I worked with a handler, and I was intrigued by the relationship he had with his dog. The way they worked together… it was like they were teammates. So I started asking him questions. How he got into it, the training he had… then I convinced my superior to let me take some certification courses.”

“Did your dog go with you everywhere?”

“Not everywhere. It wouldn’t have worked on some of our missions. But when he could, he did.”

“But then you left the Army.”

I nod. “I did. About six years ago, now. Rogue wanted to start up Fox & Falcon. And he had the idea of me heading the canine services division. It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. Working with my best friend, my Delta teammates, I could work with dogs all the time… and the timing ended up working out perfectly. Sampson retired right before I separated from the Army, so I had first choice of adopting him.”

Like he knows we’re talking about him, Sampson comes into the solarium, nails clicking on the ceramic tile. He walks over to us and sinks onto the floor with a soft huff. Ruby reaches down to pet him. “And now you’re both here.”

“Now we’re both here,” I agree. “And I’ve never regretted it. I loved my time in the Army. But I think this is the right place for me now.”

Ruby gives me a long look. An unreadable emotion works in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here,” she finally says. “I know that.”

My heart gives an uneven thump. Then I reach for her hand. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”