Killing Me Softly (Reaper Romance)

Chapter Twenty-Three: Giving Up the Ghost

Micah didn't make a move as he stood a mere few feet from Briseis' former interest, Mark. Nothing much about the guys appearance changed of course. Though he did smell a bit like whiskey, he did look a lot better without spaghetti spilled all over him. Sadly, Micah was easy to recognize as well. And had only seconds to think of how to disappear from this situation before Mark recognized him as well.

"What are you doing here?" Mark asked Briseis with haste. His shock-filled eyes were locked on her.

Micah watched her flinch at his tone and went cold as her eyes shifted to him standing next to her. No. Don't draw attention to me, Briseis.

Her gem-like, watery eyes shifted back to Mark as she tried to put on a welcoming smile. "Um...I kinda felt like taking a little walk. What are you doing here?"

Micah took his chance to move, but the flush of crowd was like a novice swimmer going against the tide. Knowing it would be best for Breseis if he left, he proceeded to push through. He didn't want her to explain him. She couldn't.

But then he paused at the familiar escalation of Mr. Clueless' voice.

"I can't believe you would stiff me like this, Bree? Why couldn't you just tell me the truth instead of stringing me along? I thought you would forgive me and move on, so why the games?" His eyes were dark and disappointed, matching his tone. The crowd moved around them, avoiding this strange bubble of angt and drama stirring like a brooding storm between them. Luckily, Micah was just outside the danger zone--leaving would keep things from imploding. But one last look at Briseis painted a different picture.

A chill clenched Micah's chest when he noticed the tears streaming down her frowning face. Anger written in her expression, he didn't bother to entertain whether if it was for Mr. Clueless for being an ass, or for him, who also was being an ass. Seeing that look felt like witnessing the burning of Rome again..

And when Mark reached out and grabbed her arm, something inside him snapped. Somehow he didn't recall how he went from getting away towards St. Charles to getting between them, violently breaking the hold and staring down at a pale, shaking Mr. Clueless.

"You don't ever put your hands on her. You understand?"

Mark looked as if he was looking at Death itself.

Good.

Because he was.

***

Briseis couldn't breathe as she witnessed Micah standing in front of her, glaring at Mark. His aura was dark, oh so bleak for a second, she feared for her complicated Tinder date. What was even worst, was that neither of them was supposed to ever see each other again. Now, here they were in each other's faces.

Even as she stepped to stand beside Micah, she could tell that the fearful expression of Mark was morphing into an angry, betrayed one.

"Who the hell are you?" Mark asked. Then he shook his head. "Wait a minute. I know you."

Briseis tugged on Micah's arm. "Let's just go." Filled with remorse, her eyes darted to Mark "Don't do this, Mark."

"Wait! This is the asshole who spilled food all over me at that restaurant, isn't he?" Mark straightened his body and glared at both Micah and her. "So what is this? This asshole is your ex-boyfriend or something who's got it in for me?"

She shook her head. "No! This isn't what you think."

"Oh, I get it. You and him get together, role play and set up guys to humilate them? Some sick game you two do to get off? You and this prick?!"