Chapter 48 The Line He Won't Let Me Cross
Dante's POV
Micah is still trembling when I leave him standing in the locker room doorway. He doesn’t move. He just watches me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he blinks. Good. He should be afraid of losing me. He should feel that fear every time someone else looks at him.
But I don’t walk far. I step around the corner and wait in the dim hallway where no one bothers to go. I listen to his breathing from the other side of the wall fast, uneven, the kind of breath someone gives only when they’re caught between wanting and collapsing. He doesn’t know I’m still here. But I want to see how he moves when he thinks I’m not looking.
So I wait. After a moment, I hear his whisper quiet, cracked, and meant for no one. “Dante… don’t go.” My chest tightens in a way I refuse to name. I should walk away. I should leave him shaking there and make him crave me until morning. Instead, I step back into view.
His head snaps up. The relief in his eyes almost knocks the breath out of me. Pathetic. Beautiful. Mine. “Get your stuff,” I say softly. “We’re leaving.” He nods fast, almost stumbling as he turns and grabs his bag.
I know he’d follow me anywhere right now. That’s exactly what I want. When he reaches me again, I place a hand on the small of his back. Not hard. Barely a touch. But he shivers like I pinned him against the wall. “Easy,” I murmur, leaning close enough that his breath catches. “You’re wound tight.”
“I can’t help it,” he whispers. “I know.” I press my palm firmer against his back. He melts into the pressure without hesitation. He doesn’t even check if anyone’s around. He’s gone. Completely gone. And I’ve never been more aware of how easy it would be to ruin him.
We walk down the hallway together, and every time someone passes us, Micah leans a little closer like he wants the world to know he’s safe only beside me. But safety isn’t what I offer him. Not really. What I offer is something deeper. Something darker. Something he keeps choosing even when it scares him.
Halfway down the corridor, Max appears from the opposite direction. Perfect. Micah stiffens. My hand immediately tightens on him, just enough that he feels it. Just enough that Max notices. Max freezes when he sees us. His jaw clenches, and I can already hear the anger building in his chest. “Let him go,” Max says quietly. His voice shakes, but he stands his ground.
Micah presses closer to me. I don’t let him step away. “Why?” I ask calmly. “He doesn’t want me to.” Max’s eyes lock on Micah. “Is that true?” Micah opens his mouth and nothing comes out. His throat works. His eyes dart between us. I can feel him trying so hard to form a lie or a truth, but he can’t choose. He’s too lost in the moment. Too drowned in me.
So I answer for him. “Yes,” I say simply. Max’s fists clench. He looks like he wants to punch me, scream at me, shake Micah until he wakes up. I would almost admire him if he weren’t such a threat. “Micah,” Max says, louder this time, “he’s controlling you.” Micah flinches. I squeeze his waist, grounding him. “No,” Micah whispers, barely audible. “I… I just…”
Max steps closer. Too close. “Hey,” I say quietly. Max ignores me. “Micah, look at me,” Max pleads. “This isn’t you. You’re scared. You’re...” Micah’s breath starts shaking again. And that’s it. I step in front of him, blocking Max’s view of Micah entirely. “That’s enough,” I say.
Max meets my eyes. He thinks he’s brave. He thinks he’s doing the right thing. “You’re hurting him,” Max spits. “No,” I answer, voice calm and flat. “You are.” Max blinks. Confused. Thrown off balance. Good. “You crowd him,” I continue, stepping closer. “You corner him. You pressure him. You want him to choose you so badly it makes him panic.” Max opens his mouth, but I don’t give him time.
“You don’t love him,” I whisper. “You want to rescue him. There’s a difference.” Max’s face twists. I hit the nerve on purpose. “But me?” I lean forward. “I don’t need him to be saved.” I tilt my head. “And that’s why he keeps coming back to me.” Max looks over my shoulder at Micah, who’s staring at the floor, shaking. “Micah,” Max tries again, “he’s twisting everything.”
Micah raises his head. His eyes are glassy, lost, desperate. “I’m fine.” His voice is tiny, but it’s there. “I’m fine, Max. Just… don’t.” Max’s expression breaks. He steps back like Micah slapped him. And Micah steps closer to me automatically. Max sees it. And I watch the exact second he realizes he’s already lost. “Micah,” Max whispers one last time, voice cracking, “he’s going to destroy you.”
I wrap an arm around Micah’s waist. He gasps softly, leaning into me like his body makes the choice before he can think. “Then let him,” Micah breathes. Max’s face collapses. I savor it. Then he turns and walks away fast, angry footsteps echoing down the hall.
Micah’s knees buckle the moment Max disappears. I catch him instantly. “Easy,” I whisper. “I’ve got you.” He grips my shirt like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. “Why did I say that?” he gasps. “Why did I...” I run my thumb along his jaw, silencing him. “Because it’s true.” He swallows hard, eyes wide, chest rising and falling too fast. “I don’t want to be…” He struggles for breath. “I don’t want to be ruined.”
“You already are,” I whisper. “Beautifully.” He closes his eyes like the words hit too deep. I lower my voice. “Come with me.” He looks up. “Where?” “Somewhere quiet.” His hand tightens on me. He’s scared. He’s drawn. He’s mine. “Okay,” he whispers.
I guide him down the hallway, toward the back exit that hardly anyone uses. Every step he takes, he stays close enough that our shoulders brush. Close enough that anyone watching would know he belongs to me.
The night air hits us when I push open the door. Cold. Sharp. But Micah doesn’t pull away. I take his chin and tilt his face toward me. “You’re safe,” I say softly. He breathes out, shaking, eyes locked on mine like he can’t look anywhere else. “But only with me.” His breath stutters. “Dante…” I wait. He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to.
I lean closer. Close enough that he can feel the warmth of my breath on his lips. Close enough that he trembles again. “Good boy,” I whisper. “Keep trembling for me.” Micah’s eyes flutter shut. And I know Max is broken, Alison is circling, the team is suspicious, the danger is rising but Micah? Micah is already past the point of return. And I’m not letting him go.