01 Untouchable - Untouchable (45 page)

“
Où êtes-vous? Annalisa, où
êtes-vous?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing;
it wasn’t Jack, it was Micah. I didn’t believe my eyes when he came
around the corner. The gun was still clenched in my fists and
pointed out in front of me.

He had his hands open in
front of him, looking directly into my eyes,
“Ne tirez pas, mon amour.”
He was
walking toward me slowly, as I was backing up, “Stop, Annalisa,” he
was crooning.

I could hear Ricky coming up the
stairs. Micah put his finger to his lips to tell me to be quiet,
motioning me to step into the closest room down the bedroom
hallway. It appeared to be the master bedroom. I went to the left
of the bed and Micah went right, but just inside the
doorway.

When Ricky walked into the room, he
evidently had no idea that Micah was standing there because he was
intently focused on me. He was still swearing about what he was
going to do to me when he got his hands on me. I raised the gun his
direction, but before I could take aim Micah simply called his name
and Ricky turned to face him. Micah drew both pistols and blew
Ricky’s chest completely apart. He never knew what hit him, death
was instantaneous. I looked at Micah’s face and it was absolutely
expressionless as he re-holstered his guns. I crumpled to the
floor. I heard a sound of someone wailing and realized it was
coming from me. Micah was at my side, taking the gun from my
hands.

“
Are you okay?” he kept
repeating over and over. “Did he hurt you?”

I couldn’t answer, I couldn’t speak.
All I could do was stare at the body lying a few feet away. Blood
splattered in a wide pattern over the bedroom wall. He was pulling
a piece of fabric from my hand when I realized it was my shirt. He
was putting it back over my head, dressing me like a parent getting
a small child ready to go somewhere.

His hands were cupping my face, forcing
me to look at him. “Leese, did he hurt you?” He asked very slowly
this time. Once his question finally sunk in, I shook my head no.
And I crumbled into those strong arms, the place that had been both
my safe-haven and my death sentence. I was crying and he was
shushing me, telling me we had to get out.

“
I have to get you out of
here before Jack returns. I’m taking you next door.” His arms were
scooping me up and I felt like a rag doll.

“
Sha—Sharon,” I finally
managed to say. “I heard them talking. She’s going to pay someone
to kill you.”

His forward motion stopped. “She can’t
do that, Leese. If she decides that on her own, she’ll not only
start a war, but her own family will turn on her. You must have
heard them wrong.”

“
No, I didn’t. She wants you
dead, too.” I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, burying my
face against it. “I couldn’t take it if something happened to you,
Micah.”

He didn’t say anything else as he
continued into the hallway; that was when we heard the sound of a
car pulling in. Micah was swearing. He turned and went back down
the hall, past the bedroom where the body was lying, and down to
the next room. He put me into a large closet and placed Ricky’s
Glock beside me on the floor.

I watched the emotions wash out of him
like the tide pulling away from the shore. His eyes were
frightening, keen, yet void and heartless. Even the movement of his
eyes had become mechanical. And for the first time in what seemed
like an eternity, I was overcome by the sheer terror of him. When
Ricky had made the mistake of trying to get to me, I watched Micah
draw and fire without blinking an eye. His aim had been deadly even
when it happened at lightening pace. He pulled out both of his
weapons and checked them and then placed them back into the
holsters. He checked my weapon and put the safety back on when he
realized I had already chambered a bullet.

“
Stay hidden. I’ll take care
of Jack.”

My stupor was dissolving. “Take me with
you…”

“
No—I’ll come back for you
when it’s done. Don’t move.”

“
Be careful,” I whispered,
but he was already gone.

I listened as Jack was cursing and
coming up from the garage. He was calling Ricky’s name and I knew
there would be no response. I could hear him heading toward the
hallway where the bedrooms were located. I heard a choked sound as
he must have come upon Ricky’s body. There were some mournful
sounds and a stifled sob. That was when I remembered Micah saying
they were brothers, not just partners. I heard the sound of his gun
chambering a bullet and then all was silent.

It seemed that I had waited for such a
long time in the closet. I was afraid to leave it, but yet again,
the house felt vacant because it was so utterly quiet. I pulled off
my shoes to make sure that I could move undetected. I picked up the
gun and pushed off the safety with a hand that was still trembling
from the last battle. The gun was like a live grenade, one gentle
squeeze, one accidental squeeze, one split second of decision or
indecision could alter everything.

If I truly believed everything I told
Micah, then I knew none of this was simply chance. God knew all
along that I would be facing this battle. I only wish that I knew
how it was going to end. I was glad that he hadn’t hidden me in the
main bedroom; I didn’t want to have to walk around the gruesome
body. But he must have guessed it was better that way so that I
didn’t dwell on what would happen to me before this day was over.
There were only hours left of my life and I knew it would end just
as fast.

Every movement was agonizing as I
looked and listened carefully before advancing. I turned the next
corner into the hall and caught my breath. Across the living room,
now moving from a shadow into a sliver of light, I saw the
unmistakable flash of a small refraction off a nickel plated
barrel. It was Jack coming down the hall from the front door,
taking aim toward the garage stairway. Jack and Micah were locked
in a deadly game of cat and mouse. They had moved silently around
the house and now were about to come face to face.

I watched as his arms became visible,
then his shoulders and finally his evil face appeared. He was
nervous to be facing Micah; even though the house was cool, I could
see the beads of perspiration on his face. I repositioned myself
low on the wall and slid around the corner behind the leather sofa.
His chest was still hidden behind the wall and I knew better than
to try for the shot.

Then I saw what he saw. A silent shadow
was moving up the stairwell. I knew from the tiny amount that I
could see, it was Micah. He was working his way back to where he
had left me and now, if he made it to the top and took that fateful
quick step through the short open space between the top of the
stairwell and the gallery wall, Jack would shoot him, and a war
would begin.

Jack was no longer moving, and there
was only one place for me to aim with any hope of hitting him at
this distance; his head came forward by another fraction of an inch
as he was taking aim and preparing to fire. If I stood, he would
see me and he would have to come around the corner of the wall to
get a clean shot. He would have to make a rapid decision to either
get rid of me and face Micah as he flew into the room, or retreat.
Either way, Micah should be out of the line of fire.

With no more time, and Micah getting
too close to taking that one exposed step, I had no choice. My gun
would have to be lowered or he would not try for the shot. I stood
up.

What happened was so fast it didn’t
even seem possible. Jack made his choice and swung out into the
living room, readjusting his aim at me as I turned sideways and
raised my arm from behind the couch with Ricky’s Glock leveling at
him in the same moment. My only saving grace was that I believe it
surprised him to see the gun in my hand. All this occurred within a
hundredth of a second and I had no choice, but to fire before he
did. I watched the shell fly out the top of the gun, the blast
causing my hand to sting and my ears to vibrate. He fired, but my
bullet had already struck in his upper left shoulder causing his
aim to be too high.

It was as if Micah had ghosted into the
scene when he had heard the swish of fabric as we drew on each
other. Jack was down, writhing in pain. His gun had fallen from his
hand. I hadn’t killed him, but I must have broken through the
clavicle and shoulder blade. Micah was on him, kicking the gun away
and before I could say anything, he pumped one more round without
thought, without mercy, without flinching into Jack’s heart ending
his life immediately.

He turned and looked at me, almost as
if he was seeing a stranger. I had begun to tremble, the gun in my
hand feeling like burning steel. I reached down with my left hand
to push the safety back on before I dropped it and caused a
misfire. It was as if when I moved to bring my hands together on
the weapon, his reaction was automatic. His guns came up. I
squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t watch what he was going to do. I
couldn’t watch the uncaring, inhuman, untouchable Micah fire at
me.

“
Annalisa,” came my name
whispered from across the room. I still couldn’t open them. I heard
his footsteps and then the feel of his hands carefully removing the
gun from my own. Those warm hands cupping my face, “Annalisa, open
your eyes.”

I took a breath and opened them; his
face was right there, his eyes still void yet struggling. “You
shouldn’t have stood up, he could have killed you.”

“
How—how did you
know?”

“
I heard the noise from my
right. I knew where he was, but I didn’t know where you were. And
then I realized you were trying to draw his fire.” Micah was coming
back to me, the void was disappearing. “You shouldn’t have had a
chance to fire. Why wasn’t your gun raised?”

“
I…” I couldn’t speak.
Somehow he knew what was happening in the room and had moved so
quickly that he was able to see it unfold.

“
You were fast. One instant
your hand was down and the next taking aim. You shouldn’t have put
yourself in danger for…” His voice cracked. The emotions were
coming back to him full force, stronger than anything I think he
had ever experienced.

I watched his eyes filling with tears,
his face so sorrow-filled and tender.

“
I was afraid,” I began,
“that he would shoot you when you got to the top of the stairs. It
was the only way.”

“
Baby,” he crooned softly,
that voice once again like a warm blanket wrapping me in his
emotion when he spoke it, “I…” He couldn’t finish it, but there
would be no need. His face descended to mine, and I was ready to
turn away but he would not allow it.

For the first time, his mouth met mine.
My eyes closed just as I saw a tear slide down his cheek. I’d never
felt something so exquisite as his lips enveloped mine with warmth
and gentleness. His mouth was opening, showing me to do the same.
As I responded, the kiss became deeper and more passionate than I
ever thought could exist. It was as if the most private parts of my
mind, heart and soul were exposed to him.

He had told me once that he had wanted
to teach me how to respond to a man’s kiss, and now he was the
teacher and I had never been a more eager student. He had begun to
pull away from me, but I had to have more. He responded to my need;
this time the passion was hotter because I now understood what he
meant about needs. I needed him desperately at the moment. It was
as if I could spend my entire lifetime in that one kiss.

And then I did.

He was the best at his job, so when the
bullet ripped through me there was no reason for remorse. It was,
as he described for me once, as if red-hot steel had been shoved
completely through me. I had no reason to open my eyes before the
rapid blackness enveloped me. I didn’t want to see his expression.
He had kept my last request as I asked because I never knew that it
was coming. There was no air inside me. As fast as the bullet made
its mark, I felt my life leave me and my last thought was, “It’s
over.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Pain. It is such a small word, but it
was my entire being. It radiated seemingly from everywhere. I was
nauseous and floating in a sea of misery. There were flashes of
light, a cacophony of noises—strange noises; beeps, swishes, sounds
of compression, distant unfamiliar voices. I wanted to see where I
was, but my eyes were difficult to control. It was as if when I
tried to open them, they rolled unconsciously toward the back of my
head. My chest screamed at me over the most infinitesimal movement
and I was trying to remember how I ended up feeling this
way.

There was something warm pressed to my
hand, familiar and strong like a band of steel—Micah. Just the
thought of his name forced me to try harder to come out of my
suspended state. I tried whispering his name. The pain screamed
louder, threatening me with every movement. “M—Mi—cah,” I had
managed the word as the pain sharpened.

“
Baby,” came the velvety
voice to my ears.

I willed my eyes to open, but the room
swirled in my vision. His face was there, but it wasn’t clear yet.
I wanted so badly to see his face. Slowly the spinning and swirling
stopped; his face was above me looking relieved.