#17

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In hindsight, having a short, angry ginger—who could barely fight and was still recovering from getting stabbed—go and try to rescue anyone, wasn't the best decision. Honestly, someone should have definitely stopped Eli. Unfortunately, there was no one that caring in his life. Apart from Matthew, but the idiot had gotten them in this mess in the first place, so he didn't really count.

And that was how Eli found himself standing in the docks of all places.

Well, at least he had the mind to mention where he was going in the first place, Eli thought. Because really, it was rare enough for Matthew to even tell him that much. Probably out of fear Eli would do exactly what he was doing at the moment.

Now, Eli didn't know much about the workings of organized crime—mostly because he was a normal person, unlike a certain other person who should not be in a fucking dock full of murderous assholes—but he was pretty sure nothing good ever happened at the docks at night. Granted, he was basing that particular opinion entirely on the movies and shows he'd watched. And sure, those weren't very reliable, but it wasn't like Matthew was going to tell him any different. That would be too dangerous.

Eli almost wanted to laugh at the thought of Matthew knowing what he was about to do. He'd probably have a heart attack.

He didn't, of course—laugh that is. If only because he might have been discovered and dragged out of his hiding place behind some shipping containers. Eli didn't really want to be thrown into the ocean anytime soon. His mother would have a fit.

Honestly, Eli was afraid of what she'd do if she ever found out.

Drag me back home after murdering Matthew, Eli thought, nodding his head a bit at the thought.

Eli pushed away any thoughts he had about his mother's possible murderous side and focused on the task at hand. Which, in theory, was simple enough. Until you factored in the armed men ominously lurking around the area. Honestly, it was a miracle Eli hadn't gotten caught. He just hoped that particular miracle held until he got out of there. Preferably with his idiot boyfriend.

But first, to find the idiot, Eli thought, looking around to find a way past the guys and further into the docks. He figured he'd have to go around and keep hiding behind shipping containers as best he could. With a sigh at his not so well put together plan—or really, more like his hardly there plan—Eli set out. Though not before making sure his beanie covered most of his hair and patting the pockets where he kept his taser and other potentially useful things, Eli set out.

He was very glad that he wasn't too bad at sneaking around, a hidden talent that he wished he'd never had to find out about. But there he was, skulking around the freaking docks, of all places, in his oldest and most comfortable sneakers, dressed like the scrawniest burglar ever, and wishing his boyfriend was normal.

Surprisingly, Eli didn't have too hard a time getting around the goons wandering around. Mostly because he managed to squeeze in between containers. He climbed atop one, with much difficulty as he did his best not to make too much noise, and was rewarded with a pretty good view of the docks. Eli could just make out some sort of warehouse up ahead. Which wasn't great.

Of course it's a fucking warehouse, he couldn't help but think with a look that, should anyone have seen it, made it painfully clear what Eli thought of warehouses. Still, he didn't have much choice, so he began to make his way over.

It was slow going. Mostly because Eli didn't feel like getting caught and killed. Didn't seem like a good way to end the night. So, he moved along the cargo carefully, keeping an ear out for anyone else. He finally made it fairly close to the warehouse and immediately wanted to groan as he realized he couldn't actually make it to the building.

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