He had watched his father break. Kneeling in her blood, Garren Abijah had screamed out in horror, calling out his wife’s name. Begging her to come back. Not to leave him.
Micah could feel a prayer burning in his head.
Be safe. Be safe. Ah God, keep her safe.
He pushed through the door to her floor and raced up the hall. He didn’t pause. He threw himself into the door, crashing into the room and taking in the scene in one horrified glance.
Nik was conscious and bound with chains in one of the easy chairs, facing the kitchen. He was fighting the chains, throttled yells sounding behind the gag.
His horrified gaze was locked on the kitchen entrance.
Micah could feel the blood congealing in his veins as he moved to the doorway. Behind him, the others were pouring into the room.
Micah stepped into the kitchen and felt his knees weaken.
Risa was tied to her table. Her arms were tied by the wrists and held pointing to the floor by two large hooks that had been driven into the floor.
Her ankles were tied to a mop handle, the handle secured by a chain to another hook in the ceiling.
She was dressed. She was crying. Behind the gag, muffled sobs sounded as he moved to her, slowly, barely daring to believe what he saw. Tears easing from her eyes as she watched him, her chest rising and falling with her breaths. There wasn’t so much as a smear of blood on her body.
“Risa.” He touched her face, then eased the gag from her mouth. “Baby.”
“Oh God.” She strained toward him. “Oh God, Micah. I thought you were dead. I thought he’d killed you,” she sobbed. “He said there was only one way to stop you and he’d do it if he had to. I thought he’d gone after you.”
He shook his head, cupped her cheek, and laid his lips to hers. She was alive. She was struggling against the ropes; she was breathing. She was alive.
He pulled back and had to draw in a long, slow breath to fill his lungs with air. “Let me get you loose.”
Jerking a knife from the sheath at his side, he cut her legs loose first and gently lowered them before bending and freeing her right arm. He moved to the left and stilled.
There, wrapped around her wrist by the leather choker that had always held it, was the pendant his father had given his mother at their engagement party.
The silver star was tarnished with age, but the golden teardrops in each point of the star still gleamed back with rich luster.
He released the ropes holding Risa’s hand and lifted her wrist.
“He gave this to you?” he asked.
Her eyes, wide and still filled with fear, flickered to the pendant as he helped her sit up, only to pull he
r against him with one arm.
“He said it was a warning.” She stared at the pendant before lifting her gaze to his face.
He lifted the pendant and turned it over. Ad olam ani ehye lach. I’ll be yours forever. The Hebrew inscription had been engraved in the silver by his father.
It was a warning. A message that Orion knew who Micah was, knew who his parents were, Somehow Orion had managed to figure out Micah’s former identity, and he had left the pendant as a warning that he knew who he was and knew how to hurt him.
Micah tucked the necklace into his pocket, then picked Risa up into his arms and strode through the apartment until he reached her bedroom and the bed they had shared.
“Did he hurt you?” He laid her on the bed, his hands moving over her arms before he lifted her wrists and rubbed at the reddened marks the ropes had left.
She shook her head quickly, her gaze locked on his face.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered.
Micah froze. He stared down at her and saw the plea in her eyes.