M-13

Behind Bars

Silas' POV:

It's been two weeks since I moved in with the two men who are slowly crawling their way to my heart. I've never really crushed on anyone before, but now the only thing that fills my head is sensual (and sexual) thoughts of the two men who are keeping me safe from the outside world.

Thankfully my face hasn't shown up much on the news, and a lot of people are speculating that I died in the explosion and am actually not the killer. It makes me hopeful, but until we have another target or speculation, I am still public enemy number one.

Atticus has been taking time to drive to a city west of Portland called Hillsboro, where the files are. There's two big places with files in every state, and each one has all of the information on every person with Mistacesemia along with whatever other files they save in there.

I know there's a whole file on me in there, because Atticus made copies of it for me.

I take time during the day to study the files, the ones on the others with Mistacesemia born in 2003, to see if I can narrow down who may be the next target or who the killer could be.

Lincoln brought me an old whiteboard from his office to take notes on, and I've narrowed down who I think the killer is to a list of three people. All three of them are from the East Coast, which was where the first murder took place, and all have history of going to jail for using their abilities aggressively more than once.

My phone rings and I answer it when I see Atticus' name appeared on the screen. I had texted him a few minutes ago to ask what he wants me to start for dinner, and it's not uncommon for him to call me back as opposed to texting.

"Hey, what's up?" I ask, smiling because I love talking to both Atticus and Lincoln.

"So, it's true?" a voice that is very much not Atticus' asks, and I feel my heart stop. "My idiot employee thought he'd be able to keep hiding a Mistake?"

"Who the hell is this?" I ask, my heart pounding and my breathing getting heavy.

No, no, no!

Now is not a good time to have a panic attack!

"Who is this?!" I ask again when I don't receive a response. "Hello?!"

The phone clicks and hangs up, and I feel myself panicking, and it's severe. Oh god, what do I do?!

I have to act like I forced Atticus and Lincoln to house me. God, what do I do?!

Before I can do anything, I'm on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest and trying to breathe, but everything seems to be crashing around me.

Atticus likes pulling stupid pranks on me and Lincoln, and has does so a lot in the past two weeks, but this is not a prank he'd pull. He's a good person and would never do something that would send me into a panic attack.

I can't breathe well, my chest is tight, and I feel tears dripping onto my bare legs.

Why?

Why me?

I hear sirens and I cry even harder, because it's inevitable that I'm going to be caught. I'm not a bad person... I know this, Atticus knows this, Lincoln knows this... why does the world hate me?

I don't want to fight the police force that is going to try to take me in. It's not worth it... maybe if I let them take me they'll see I'm not a threat?

That's impossible; they're always going to see me as a threat.

I hear the door slam open, as well as the back door, and I quickly hop up to my knees, holding my hands up in surrender.