Chapter 3: Reveal

April

              “What the fuck were you thinking, April!” Micah yells out as he paces back and forth within the confines of my small apartment.

              Once they processed my information, the cops called Sophia, who in turn called Micah because she couldn’t leave their daughter Ali home alone.

              I don’t think I’ve ever seen Micah as angry as he was the moment he walked through the precint doors. I guess it’s because I might have promised not to get in a fight the last time that I was arrested.

              As we make our way out of the precint, Micah silently seethes. I cringe at the face of his disappointment. I hate that I’m ruining everything. I’m such a fuck up!             

              It’s only when we walked past Maleah and entered my apartment that he let me have it.

              “I’m sorry…” I mutter grimly.                

              Micah shakes his head. “Do you understand what you did, April? Jesus, I thought you were done with that shit. You stabbed a cop!”

              A stray tear escapes my eyes, blurring my vision as I gaze into his emerald eyes. “You don’t understand, Micah, those guys were going to hurt me and the cops─”

              “I know what happened, okay? I understand that you were defending yourself. You just barely turned nineteen, and you’ve been arrested more times than I can count. You need to stop being so reckless. What if it would have been a child or an elderly person. You have to stop and think, April. I don’t understand why you keep doing this?”

              My lip trembles as I slump down in my seat and observe his muscular chest heave with agitation.

              “I…I…don’t know,” I whisper.

              But I do know why. I understand why I did it. It was because of the nightmare. Somehow, it put me on edge, and subconsciously I was ready to fight whoever got in my way. I didn’t think about who I would hurt. All I could think about was releasing all of my pent up frustration.

              Micah stops in his tracks and squats down to face me. If I had a word to describe Micah, I’d say he’s breathtaking. He’s one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever met. Not that I view him sexually. It’s more like when you go to the museum and appreciate a beautiful piece of art. If anything, I think of Micah as if he was my real brother. Ever since his parents adopted me, I’ve felt this unshakable bond with him. I guess it’s because he saved me from the horror I lived through all of those years ago. And I know that he feels the same way. He’s everything I would hope for in a big brother. Micah, Sophia, Chelsea, and Tate have also been amazing, which is why I feel so guilty over the things I do.

              Micah arches a brow as he waits for my answer. The tattoos on his forearms stand in contrast beneath his rolled-up sleeves. “What’s going on with you, April?”

              I feign ignorance at his question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

              Micah shakes his head. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Sophia and I noticed that you’ve been acting different lately. You seem…more closed off. Is it because of Tate and Mom? You know mom’s doing better, right? The treatment is working.”

              I shake my head. “N-no. I’m…fine.”

              Micah’s eyes dim as he gazes intently into mine. “Please, April, talk to me. Or at least talk to someone. I knew something was wrong the day I caught you at that underground fight club, and I can see that it’s getting worse. Are you having problems at school? Is it too much?”

              My heart stutters as I steadfastly shake my head. “No, it’s not about school; school is fine.”

              You might be wondering what we’re talking about. Long story short, two years ago, Micah discovered that I was visiting illegal fight rings and dragged me out with the promise that I’d never do it again. 

              I don’t know how Micah discovered what I was doing, but somehow he did. To his horror, he caught one of the guys roughing me up and interfered. What he didn’t know is that I wanted to fight. He was so blinded by his anger that he attacked the guy. Thankfully, I was able to stop Micah before he killed him. 

              It was only when I explained my need to fight that Micah understood what I had done. At first, he was at a loss, but then he sat me down, and we talked. Considering that he saved me from a death house as a child, he had some idea what I had dealt with.

              It was only when I revealed my self-hatred that he broke down. He was shocked by my words. Unbeknownst to my adoptive parents, Micah placed me in counseling. Eventually, he realized that I was getting worse. He was horrified to find that I would cut myself while I lived with his mother and stepfather. All of the specialists recommended that he have me institutionalized until I got my head on straight. They felt that I’d continue to let my anger overwhelm me until I accepted that I was a victim. I wasn’t ready to accept it, though, and counseling wasn’t cutting it. 

              Seeing that I was not going to stop, Micah found a way to help me. After pulling a couple of favors, he set me up to train and fight with some of his former military colleagues and even signed me up to join a boxing club.

              We decided at that time to keep the information from Sophia and our parents. We both knew that it would hurt them to know that I was not the sweet innocent girl they adopted. I can’t imagine how they’d react if they knew that I wanted to be a fighter or if they found out about the abuse I suffered at the hands of that man. Thanks to Micah, they never learned about my true history. The never knew about how my mom would lock me in a closet and starve me for days. Or how I’d hide in the fire escape of one of my foster homes to avoid my foster dads. I don’t want them to know that my mother sold me to a sadist who’d starve, beat me, and chain me while he killed children in front of me.

              “Do you hate me?” I ask hollowly. At that moment, I feel as if there's nothing inside of me.

              I observe tearfully as Micah sifts his fingers through his hair and exhales deeply. “No, I don’t hate you, April. I know that you’re hurting, but you can’t keep doing this. Thankfully, the officer dropped the charges after I offered him a hefty sum and paid his medical bills. But maybe you should consider seeing another psychiatrist. It’s obvious that you still have PTSD, and you need to find a way to handle it.”

              I shake my head. “No, no, I don’t want to go to counseling. I’m fine.”

              “You’re not fine!” He grits out with a slash of his palm. “Don’t you understand what you did, April? You’re not fine. You fucking stabbed a police officer. That’s nowhere near the definition of fine. Christ, this is crazy. You’re nineteen years old, so I can’t punish you. But blood or not, you’re still my little sister, and I worry. Isn’t the club enough? Aren’t the classes enough? Dyson, the owner, said that there are other classes you can take. I can call Stryker and see if he can train you some more.”

              I close my lips, unable to reply. I don’t know how to explain the hollow feeling that grinds through me every hour of every day.

              I look down at my lap and entwine my fingers as I consider what to do next. Swallowing hard, I glance back at Micah. He looks weary and harried, which makes me feel like crap for dragging him into my problems. “I don’t want any more training, Micah. I’m sorry, but you know what I want to do.”

              His jaw pops as he looks past my shoulder with a distant expression. “You’re still dead set on joining the Confradia?.” He mumbles dejectedly.

              I nod. “You know that I can do everything an assassin does. I need a purpose, Micah. I want to bring justice to innocents the way you do. I don’t know why you’re so against this. Stryker and Cameron think I’d make a good assassin.”

              He takes a deep breath. “I know, April, and I would agree if it wasn’t for your careless behavior. I gave you a year to gain control before we spoke again. But so far, all I’ve done is bail you out of trouble.”

              My lips pucker. Micah’s right. I haven’t stuck to my end of the bargain.

               “Here’s how it’s going to be. I will speak to Jaxon and see what we can come up with. Right now, I need you to focus on a task. Talk to Maleah and see if you can take a couple more shifts at Sweet Perfect. If the need to fight arises, go to the club or call Stryker. Don’t, and I’m serious─ don’t─ go looking for any more illegal fights. Now, I don’t know what triggered you this time, but I need you to think things through before doing something like this again. Not just because you’d get in trouble but because it’s dangerous. What if you had killed someone? I know that you want to be one of us, but not while you’re this fucked up. We might be killers, but we live by a code. You’re too volatile, and you won’t make it far as an assassin if you can’t control yourself.”

              I nod my head, but I don’t verbalize a response because I know that I will do as he said. I’m going to gain control of myself because I really want this. I want to be an assassin more than anything.

              His lips tighten as he rises to his full height. “I’m so sorry, April.” He mutters mournfully.

              “Why? It’s not your fault?” I mutter with disbelief.

              Micah gives me a sad smile. “I wish I could have been there before everything. I wish I had saved you before he hurt you.”

              My tears rain down freely at his mournful words. Seeing his pain somehow temporarily severs the tether of my compulsion and amplifies my guilt. “Don’t, Micah. There’s nothing you could have done. I was broken way before you knew I existed. There’s no reason to dwell in the past.”

              His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows deeply. “I just wish there was something else I could do for you, little sister.”

              Rising to face him, I take his large hand in mine. “You are doing something. None of this is on you. Just remember, no matter what happens, you did all you could for me.”

              His expression tightens as he tries to decipher my words. Fuck me if I missed the mark in reassuring him. Me and my big mouth.

              His hand rises as he gently caresses my cheek with his scarred knuckles. “One way or another, all of us assassins are fucked up, April. This is why we are what we are. You just need to prove to us all that you have the mental stability to do it. For now, promise me that you won’t give up. Promise me.”

              I nod my head, but I don’t verbalize my promise. I’m sure he knows that I’m hedging, but he doesn’t push.

              Once Micah leaves, I head to my bedroom, curl up in my bed, and close my eyes.

              Come morning, I’m feeling better. I’m still a little bruised from the fight, but I’m ready to move on.

              Slipping into a pair of skinny jeans and a blue peasant top, I slide into my boots and startle when my phone rings.

              Frowning, I answer the call. “Hey, Mal, I was just coming over to talk to you.”

              Maleah’s frantic voice responds. “Oh, April, thank goodness. Listen, can you come over to my house for a moment? Hunter’s nanny is running late, and I have a catering order to deliver for my mother’s social club. I’d take him, but it’s such a hassle to load everything up in the truck, and my mom will kill me if I don’t deliver it in person. She loves to show me off to her friends.”

              I chuckle at her tone. “Sure, I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

              Without a word, I rush to the house. Thankfully, Mal doesn’t live far from the shop.

              Maleah opens the door as soon as I ring the bell. Holding a heel in her hands, she limps around, gathering things here and there. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here, April. You’re a lifesaver.” She slips on her heels with a large smile. Maleah is beautiful with her statuesque frame, long, thick, curly ebony hair, and olive skin. I know her husband, Jaxon, is crazy about her.

              “Yeah, sure,” I reply. “Where’s the little man?”

              She points to a sleeping mat sitting on the living room floor. “He and Ace are asleep right now.”

              I look in the playpen and smile when I see four-year-old Hunter passed out on the mat with their corgi, Ace, tucked in beside him. Hunter’s chubby cheeks are flushed, and his pouty lips are open. This isn’t the first time I’ve babysat Hunter. When I do, the little brat wears me out.

              Maleah stands next to me and looks down at her son with a pleased grin. “Thanks for the help, April. Oh, and don’t worry, you won’t have to stay long; Gloria said she’d be here soon. The poor woman is stuck on the train.”

              I nod. “Sure.”

              She turns to leave and turns back around to face me again. “One more thing; one of Jaxon’s men is coming by to pick this up.” She hands me a laptop. “Jaxon’s in L.A. visiting Logan and needs something updated on it.”

              I take the laptop and nod. “Alright.”

              She sighs with relief and pulls me in for a tight hug before she rushes away. “Thanks!” She calls out with a wave.

              As if sensing his mother is gone, Hunter chooses that moment to rise from his perch. His sleepy, flushed face and tousled hair are adorable. I love how he rubs his eyes and searches for his mom. His lip trembles when he sees she’s not there. Laptop in hand, I squat down next to him, place it on the floor, and lift him into my arms.

              “Hey, little buddy. Mommy had to go, but she’ll be back later.”

              He wraps his arms around my neck and gives me a gap-toothed smile. “April, I’m hungry.” He tells me. Ace rises beside him and begins to jump up and down with excitement.

              Picking him up, I carry him to the kitchen. “What do you want?” I ask.

              “Yogurt!” He squeals as he reaches for a  yogurt cup on the shelf. I try to put him down, but the little brat refuses to let me go, so I maneuver around him and manage to open the cup.

              He’s halfway through the cup when the doorbell rings. Unfortunately, this seems to excite him, so he tosses the cup in the air and spills the contents over my chest and hair. “Hunter, no!” I reprimand. Grabbing a handtowel, I rush to the door with the squealing child in my arms and Ace nipping at my heels.

              My hair flutters around me, which makes Hunter giggle and swipe at it.

              Somehow, I’m able to open the door throughout this whole process. To my shock, Connor Archer is standing in front of me.

              Of course, it would be Connor who’d show up while I’m covered in yogurt. My shirt sticks to my chest as the yogurt slides down my skin.

              Unlike me, Connor is perfectly dressed in a pressed, tailored black suit and white dress shirt that molds to his muscular chest.

              His lip quirks with amusement as he takes in my appearance. “You know you’re supposed to eat that, not wear it, right?”

              “Yeah, I know.” I grimace.

              Connor looks side-to-side and points behind me. “Are you going to let me in, or do you want me to stand here while you drip on the floor?”

              Looking down, I see that there are glops of yogurt on the floor and groan. “Shit, sorry.” I take a step back and admit him in.

              Regrettably, my humiliation is not over when Hunter laughs and screams out, “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

              Connor chuckles and arches a brow. “Nice going, kid.”

              Groaning with mortification, I place Hunter on the couch and wipe at my shirt, which doesn’t do anything but spread the stain.

              Feeling defensive, I toss the towel onto the counter and respond cattily. “Is there something I can help you with, Connor?”

              Connor snickers. “Actually, I’m here to pick up Jaxon’s laptop. Do you have it?”

              Shaking my head to awaken my brain, I gesture to the kitchen. “It’s right…” Jaw tight, I search for the laptop but realize that while I was struggling with Hunter, I must have set it down, and I don’t remember where I placed it.

              Connor looks toward where I’m gesturing and gives me a confused frown. “Where?”

              Throwing my hands up with frustration, I search around the floor. “I put it somewhere. Dam─darn it! I put it somewhere. Give me a minute.”

              Seeing that it’s not on the counter, I head back to the couch and get on all fours.

               Connor observes quietly as I crawl around the floor and start turning pillows and toys over. My hair flutters around me like a waterfall, and my sticky hands itch. Ass up in the air, I look under the couch and sigh with relief as soon as I see that it’s underneath the loveseat. The collar of my peasant top slides down my shoulders, baring my skin, and rides up, bearing my naked waist. I’m so absorbed with my search that I don’t notice that Connor is not only getting a good look at my tight ass in my skinny jeans, but he’s also getting a view of my bare breasts and naked waist. Hey, I’m a B cup; sue me for not wearing a bra.

              Taking the laptop, I squat down and offer it to him. “Here you go,” I mumble steadily.

              Connor’s heated eyes meet mine, his throat bobbing as he takes the laptop and puts it under his arm.

              To my surprise, he extends his hand back out and helps me stand up.

              His lips open as he steps closer. A choked gasp escapes my lips at his nearness, but I don’t say a word. Hope flickers in my chest. Is he going to tell me that I’m beautiful? Is he going to ask me out?

              “You’re bruised.” He states, snapping me out of my fantasy.

              Brow furrowed, I look down at the bruise on my stomach.

              “What happened?” Connor asks.

              To my delight, he rests his fingers across the bruise. My skin tingles and my heart flutters at his touch. Heat spreads through me like syrup, and my nipples harden with desire.  He’s only touching me with his fingers, and I’m ready to jump him.

              “Oh…uh…I kind of got in a fight.”

              His lips tighten. “Is that why Micah had to go to the precint last night? Did you beat someone up, kid?”

              I arch a brow at his mocking tone. “Actually, I stabbed a cop after I beat the crap out of two guys who were trying to assault me.”

              Connors brow furrows before he throws his head back and mockingly laughs. “Okay, sure.”

              Scoffing at his attitude, I roll my eyes and say. “First of all, I’m not a kid. And second of all, I’m not lying. Ask Micah.”

              His laughter quickly dies as he runs his gaze over me again. To my surprise, he pulls me into his arms and searches for other bruises. First, he sees my abraided knuckles, then the shallow cut across my shoulder when the knife grazed me. Thankfully, it barely cut the skin, but as soon as I got to the station, one of the medics sanitized it.

              I’m jello in his arms as he rubs his thumb against the cut. My eyes devour his strong, shadowed jaw and silken hair.

              “You’re a tough girl, huh?” he asks wryly. “I hope you messed them up.”

              I nod. “Yeah, I did. I put one on a chokehold and kicked the other in the head.”

              He quirks a brow and takes a step back as if finally noticing that he’s standing too close. He clears his throat and scowls. “Wait, you stabbed a cop?”

              I grimace. “Yeah, he grabbed me while I was fighting, and I didn’t notice that he was a cop.”

              “Well, that was pretty stupid. Jesus, what were you thinking?” He reprimands me. “Micah must have been pissed.”

              I glance over to make sure Hunter is fine and sigh with relief when I see that he’s playing with one of his toys. Looking back at Connor, I place my hand on my hip. “Yeah, he was mad, but he understood that it was a mistake.”

              He sneers as he looks down at me with disappointment. “Some mistake.” Connor scoffs. “If I was Micah, I would have─”

              “What would you have done, Connor? Huh?” I snap back.

              Connor shakes his head, his jaw ticking with untold emotion before he turns to walk away.

              Refusing to let it go, I follow him and call out. “What would you have done, Connor? Please do tell me.” I say in a mocking voice. “Would you have taken me across your lap and spanked me?”

              Connor quickly turns, nearly making me stumble back, and leans close, his eyes looking intensely into mine.

              A moment passes before he replies, “You’d probably like that, wouldn’t you? Well, I don’t think you’d be able to handle me. So why don’t you save your little seduction for those college boys?”

              Narrowing my eyes, I place my hands on my hips and sputter out. “You don’t know shit about me, Connor. In fact, I can guarantee that you can’t handle me.”  I lift my hand and poke his chest with my index finger. “Now, why don’t you run along and take care of your errands, gopher boy.”     His jaw ticks, and his nostrils flare as he stalks back toward me, making me stumble back until my back is to the wall. Jaw tight, I place my hand on his chest and give him a daring glare.

              Standing close, he cages me in and rests his palm over my head with a growl. “You’re really pushing it, kid.” His fingers wrap around my hand and pull it away from his chest to settle both our hands against my chest. My body busts into flames at his proximity, and I almost moan when his index finger grazes my nipple. His blue eyes clash with mine giving off conflicting emotions. I can see that he desires me, but I can tell that it bothers him.

              Somehow, our bodies come closer, and our lips are mere inches away. I’m sure we were about to kiss, but it never happens because, at that moment, Hunter’s nanny opens the front door.

              “Hello!” She calls out, making me and Connor jump back guiltily.

              “Ms.Gloria…hey!”

              “Hi, Ms. Gloria.”

              Connor and I call out in unison.

              Ms. Gloria is a rotund lady with dark hair and kind eyes. She’s Maleah’s mother’s best friend, and she loves Hunter dearly.”

              “Hey, guys.” She waves at us before she turns to Huner. “Hunter, mi amor!” She calls out as she gathers an excited Hunter into her arms. Hunter snuggles up to her and kisses her cheek. “G.G. I love you,” He tells her as he clings tightly to her neck.

              “Thank you for watching him, April. I didn’t think that train would be stuck for so long.”

              “Sure, no problem Gloria. I should get going.” I mumble. Without acknowledging Connor’s presence, I gather my things and head out the door.

              Connor grumbles a goodbye and follows behind me, but I don’t stop. I don’t even look back. I don’t want to see his look of regret. I have enough regrets of my own to deal with.