Free Vengeance Borne by Amanda Bonilla Page B

fear. It wasn’t just her guarded expression. Truth be told, she was pretty good at masking her face. But he could sense her building anxiety. For the first time, Micah didn’t feel like running. Rather, he was curious about her emotions. Wonders never cease.
    “Where are you from?” she asked out of the blue.
    “Seattle. Well, Bellevue, actually. I worked in Seattle.”
    “What are you doing here?”
    He quirked a brow. Yep, she was direct. Somehow this had become more of an interrogation than a simple conversation. “Honestly, just passing through. On my way to Wyoming.”
    Jax leaned forward in her chair, pinned him with an apprising stare, like she was trying to reach into his thoughts. “Are you playing some kind of game, Micah? Or are you really as clueless as you seem?”
    Angry now. Or frustrated? Searching through the tangle of emotions he knew weren’t his, Micah determined that she was balancing on a precipice of emotion. Fighting for neutrality, but ready to tilt over the edge at any moment. And the worst part of her direct questioning—he was just as clueless as he seemed. “Sorry to confirm your worst fears. But, yes. I am totally clueless.”
    She snorted into her glass of iced tea. Again he felt a soft cloud of emotion billow off of her, something between pity and amusement. How nice. Making quite the impression, aren’t you? Micah paused, pushed a French fry around his plate. What did he expect to get out of this, anyway? That somehow, because he felt something when he touched her face, she’d magically have all the answers to the problems in his life and he’d be fixed? He’d finally fucking lost it, hadn’t he? What was the point in pulling up his firmly planted roots and leaving Bellevue just to stall out halfway to his destination? Solitude, he reminded himself, was the purpose of this little pilgrimage. Getting the hell away from emotions that weren’t his and visions that kept him from a decent night’s sleep, not to mention his own sanity. This whole damned trip was about putting distance between him and any human interaction, not forming new relationships . Get your shit together, man . Who cares what she’s feeling and why. He swirled a fry around in a pool of ketchup and popped it into his mouth, masking his own ridiculous confusion with some vigorous chewing. She can obviously take care of herself, and besides, you’re just passing through .
    Jax set down her cup and leveled her gaze. A crease gathered between her dark brows, and Micah was struck with the urge to gently erase it with his thumb. Indecision twisted his stomach, twitches of emotion sparking off of her like electricity. She took a deep breath. Held it. Let it out in a single gust. “I’m going to tell you something, and you’re going to think I’m full of shit. But before you pass judgment, hear me out and then think about how you feel.”
    This wasn’t the direction he’d seen their dinner conversation taking. One thing was certain: she had no problem being direct. But if playing a captive audience to whatever she was about to say meant squeezing out a few more minutes of time with her, it would be worth every second. “Shoot.”
    A pregnant pause lingered between them. Her shoulders slumped as if in resignation and she sighed. Pulling the butterfly bandage from her cheek, she presented him with smooth brown skin, all signs of her previous injury gone. “You did this, Micah. You healed me. Almost instantaneously.”
    He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand and he obeyed the command.
    “You have a gift, Micah. You’re a Bearer and a damn powerful one. I don’t know why you’re here, or why you’re unrealized. But your ignorance could cause a lot of trouble. Trouble I don’t feel like dealing with.”
    Bearer? Unrealized? Powerful? “Huh?” Micah closed his eyes and suppressed a shudder as a chill raced up his spine. His stupid Neanderthal grunt of an answer had triggered her frustration