Chapter 23: Chapter 23

"My room, now." Micah says sharply, tugging me towards the house. I don't protest or struggle to be released from his hold. My mind has grown numbingly cold as the harsh reality of the mission sinks in.

Veronica sent us here to die.

Over the past few years, the FBI has grown into what I call my own messed up version of home. Despite them kidnapping and drugging me, I've grown accustomed to the rules and it's people. Some of my closest friends were made in the FBI, friends that I hoped to one day call family. I think of Geraldine, the canteen worker who always greets me with a wave and a smile. I never asked for extra roast potatoes but she always gave them to me.

"We can't go back." I breathe out, my throat closing in as the thought dawns on me. How can we go back? Veronica wants us dead. I'll never see the inside of the FBI headquarters again. I'll never speak to the same people, eat the same food. I don't realise it but as Micah drags me up the stairs, I begin to hyperventilate.

I'm not a stranger to being starved of oxygen but it's usually because I'm being strangled or held under water until I'm ready to pass out. This time there is no-one else's hand around my throat but my own. It's my own body refusing to function normally.

"Hunter, breathe. You can't freak out on me, not now." Micah breathes down my ear, hot breath fanning across my cheeks. The house is dark and eerily quiet and a quick thought flashes into my head.

"What if Ted and Margaret are in on it?" I whisper, my eyes wide as I glance in the direction of their bedroom. Micah stills for a second before pushing open his door and taking me in there with him. He drops his tight hold on me, turning his attention back to the door. The soft click of his lock fills the air and he breathes out, reaching up to run his hands through his air. He tugs on it wildly as I stand in the middle of his room, watching him.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!" He whisper-yells trying not to wake our ‘parents'.

It's weird to see Micah losing his sanity.

I've spent years wondering whether he possesses the same emotions as any other human being. He's always so blunt and direct, his face showing no sign of emotion. During the time of this mission, I've seen a side to Micah I never thought I'd see.

"You losing your shit makes me want to lose my shit but if we both lose our shit, we don't stand a chance." I say weakly, my legs giving out underneath me. I slowly sink to the floor, landing in a heap of tangled arms and legs.

"We're going to die," I whisper-laugh, unable to stop the tears from falling. Silence grows in the room and if I didn't feel Micah's presence looming over me, I would have thought I was alone. How can we beat the FBI?

"Are you crying?" Micah says, his voice quiet. He sounds shocked and unsure and I sniffle, reaching up to wipe away the foreign feeling of tears on my cheeks.

"I guess I've had a good run, right? I should have died years ago but I didn't." I breathe out, pulling my legs up and resting my chin on them. I feel my body shaking, wet tears falling into the denim of my jeans. Micah suddenly drops to my side, his warm hands caressing my cheeks. He wipes away the tears, his jaw locked in frustration and anger.

"Stop with the bullshit talk. We can fight this Hunter." He mumbles, sounding anything but convincing. I shake my head, resting my cheek into the palm of his hand and closing my eyes.

"We can't fight the FBI, no-one can.”

"There's always a first for everything." Micah says, his large eyes dropping to my tear stained cheeks. I see his face wince and his hands twitch, almost as if he wants to touch me but he's scared. I don't say anything but silently shuffle closer to him, seeking any sort of comfort.

It's weird knowing that your life is due to come to an end soon. We don't think about it much, death. I've killed numerous people, watched as the life drained from their eyes and skin. A dead body eventually turns a deep blue shade, the heart inside stops pumping and comes to a complete stand still.

Now I will end up the same way.

"Hunter," Micah breathes out my name, his warm breath caressing my face. I shake my head because I don't want to speak, I just want to feel. After a few seconds, he silently nods, understanding what it is I need. I don't protest as his strong arms wrap around my shivering frame, pulling me into his lap. We both sit on the floor in the middle of his room, my head laying on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat thumping underneath the clothes, a heart that is destined to stop.

"Why us?" I whisper, tears silently streaming down my cheeks. "Why us? What did we do?" I repeat, my voice heavy with emotion.

"I don't know." Micah says, his voice broken.

I tilt my head back, studying the side of his face. His sharp jaw remains locked and he stiffens, noticing my scrutinising eyes. When he slowly turns his face towards me, I don't expect the brown in his eyes to darken intensely. I feel myself breathe a sharp intake of breath, our faces inches apart.

"We're screwed, aren't we?" He whispers, his brown eyes flickering between both of mine. His voice is low and hoarse and I nod my head slightly. His shoulders slump in defeat and I watch as his eyes fall to my lips, lingering on them. I don't dare breathe, thousand of thoughts whizzing through my brain.

"I guess I have nothing to lose," Micah eventually says before dipping low and closing the distance between us. As soon as his lips press against mine, the tenderness he started with completely vanishes. It's like a switch has gone off inside him and he hungrily guides my lips with his, both of us becoming tangled in one another. I don't breathe, I don't think, I just follow him because I'm terrified.

He lets out a low satisfied groan, pushing me to the floor before climbing on top of me. His lips never leave mine, tongue roaming the inside of my mouth. Through my closed eyelids, a face flashes in my mind, growing vivid by the second.

Calvin.

I feel Micah's hand roam over my chest before finding the hem of my top. His hand disappears underneath it and when his fingers touch my skin, I finally realise what I'm doing.

"No, wait. Micah — " I gasp, pulling away.

I turn my face away from him, squeezing my eyes shut. All I see is Calvin Black and I want to pound my head against the wall until I stop thinking about him. He's a criminal and Micah is not.

"What's wrong?" Micah asks me, his chest rising and falling heavily due to his breathing. He doesn't move from on top on me and I can't bring myself to lie to him. I open my eyes and look up at him, his brown eyes that I know are beyond beautiful. His lips are swollen, hair tangled from me subconsciously running my hands through it.

"I'm sorry," I whisper because I know my words and actions are going to hurt him, really hurt him. I can't continue doing this whilst Calvin Black's face flashes through my thoughts. I can't keep kissing Micah whilst thinking of myself kissing Calvin. I don't know when it happened but Calvin Black has grown a stronger hold over me than I thought.

"Don't apologise," Micah mumbles, propping himself up on his arms. His body still remains so close to mine and I wonder whether he hopes for me to change my mind. I wonder whether I want myself to change my mind.

"It's him, isn't it?" Micah says, his words spoken in complete monotone. I bite down on my lower lip, my eyebrows creased together with sheer frustration at myself.

"I'm sorry," I repeat because those are the only words I can bring myself to say.

Disappointment and rejection flashes across Micah's face and the hurt that fills his eyes will never erase itself from my mind.

"Can I try one more time?" He says quietly, his eyes searching mine. He looks at me with complete longing and I've never seen adoration fill his features as they do now. I blow out a deep breath and nod my head because I at least owe him another chance. He slowly lowers himself until his face is hovering an inch away from mine. I feel his warm breath tickle my bottom lip, his eyes remaining connected with mine the entire time.

"Do you want to?" He whispers, his voice growing hoarse. I feel his body beginning to tremble, strong arms shivering beside my body. I nod my head and finally close the distance between us, kissing him with gentle pressure. His lips are soft as clouds and to someone out there, addicting.

But that person isn't me.

When I pull back and remain silent, Micah breathes out heavily, acceptance flashing across his face. He silently pulls away, standing to his feet and turning his back on me.

"I'm sorry Micah." I apologise for the third time, my heart clenching with sadness from his deflated posture.