“Who the fuck is Ashton?” Calum asks.
“That is Ashton!” Luke says, squinting his eyes to make out the figure in the dark.
“Who the fuck is Ashton?” Michael echoes Calum’s question.
“That is him, isn’t it?” I ask Luke.
“I’m ninety nine percent sure that it’s him,” Luke agrees with me.
“Who is he?” Michael says, too loud.
“Ashton, he just started working for your dad!” I remind him.
“You just met him, like, two days ago,” Luke rolls his eyes.
“Do you expect me to remember every single goddamn insignificant person that my father hires?” Michael hisses.
“You are literally such a dick, Michael, I can’t even,” Luke shakes his head.
I snort, looking back over my shoulder at Luke. “You can’t even?”
“Shut up,” Luke smiles, nudging me.
“If you two are done flirting, can you please explain this to me?” Calum asks. Michael’s gaze is unfocused as he stares out the window, but he’s not too far gone for his possessive instincts to be forgotten. He glares between me and Luke, relaxing slightly when I thread my fingers through his, a subtle reminder that he is the one who owns my heart.
I turn to Calum. “There’s not much to explain. He just started working for Michael’s dad… and he came into the bar when I was working the night before,” I add on, suddenly remembering.
“So?” Calum rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t prove anything.”
“I’m not trying to prove anything,” I say hotly. “I’m just pointing out that it’s not very likely that these two instances are completely unrelated. Whatever research that you did led you to this house… this random house… and someone that you know just happens to be here? Doesn’t that seem like quite the coincidence?”
“There’s no such thing as coincidences,” Calum mumbles, clearly deep in thought.
“I do remember him,” Michael suddenly interjects. “He was in your office, Kate. When we went to get lunch, he was in your office.”
“Oh yeah,” I suddenly recall the conversation. “Yeah, that was weird…”
“What did he want?” Luke asks.
“He wanted… to make sure that I didn’t think he was a stalker.”
“What?” The look of discomfort on Calum’s face is almost amusing; he clearly hates being confused.
“Okay, listen carefully to this story,” I say slowly. I am exaggerating my words, a petty attempt to belittle Calum. He is rude. “I work at Hemingway’s bar, do you know it? It’s a few blocks from my apartment.” Calum nods, letting me continue. “He came in while I was working, I waited on him. He was a little bit odd, not like… nothing crazy, but he was just weird. He was by himself and I could tell that he knew me, he recognized me. He waited outside after he left… I felt like he was waiting for me, so I had my boss drive me home instead of walking.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” Michael breathes, interrupting my story with an intense look in his eyes.
“I forgot,” I shrug. It’s the truth, it didn’t seem important. “But then the next day, I recognized him immediately in the lobby. And then he came into my office later and told me that he’d seen me when he came for his interview, that he recognized me. And that’s why he was weird at the restaurant.”
“That’s impossible, though,” Luke interjects. “How could he have seen you? You barely ever leave your office. And all interviews take place in the morning, so it’s not like you were on lunch break. He couldn’t have seen you. He was lying, Kate, he knows you from somewhere else.”
“Well, clearly,” I indicate the giant house. “I would assume that it has something to do with this.”
I focus my gaze back to Michael, who seems to have zoned out again. What’s on his mind?
“Okay,” Calum says, typing something into his tablet. “Okay. So we’re on the right track at least. Maybe.” We sit in silence for a while, watching the house. Nothing interesting is happening, nothing is happening at all. The heat is still off and all of our breath is hitting the air in tiny bursts. I shiver, wondering how long we’ll be here. Silently, Luke slides his jacket over his shoulders and hands it to me, not even making eye contact. I glance sideways at Michael; he is not even paying the slightest bit of attention to anything going on around him. I shoot Luke a grateful glance as I push my arms through the sleeves of his jacket and settle it over my lap.
“It’s fucking freezing,” Calum breaks the silence ten minutes later. Michael seems to snap back to reality, starting the car.
“Now what?” He asks, his tone brisk and businesslike.
“Now… we try to get the dirt on this Ashton guy, I guess,” Calum shrugs. He glances up at me suddenly. “But he can’t know that we’re onto him. Or that we suspect him of anything, in any way.”
“I could invite him to lunch,” I suggest. “It might not get me much, but it’d be worth a shot.”
“I don’t like that idea,” Michael intervenes.
“Stop being a jealous prick,” Luke rolls his eyes.
“It’s not jealousy, this guy could be dangerous. Remember that there are people after me, Luke! After her, after all of us!”
“So I’ll go too,” Calum interjects.
“What? You’ll just tag along on Kate’s date with a stranger?” Michael rolls his eyes.
“It’s not a date,” I correct him. “And that’s actually a good idea. Calum could be there already, he could sit close to us. Within hearing distance. That way I’ll surely be safe, and we’ll have two sets of eyes and ears on Ashton.”
“I knew I liked you,” Calum beams at me proudly. I roll my eyes at the lie but offer him a small smile back.
“I don’t like it,” Michael repeats. But his resolve is wavering, I can tell. There’s nothing wrong with the plan, except that it might be awkward.
“It’ll be fine,” I say softly, my fingers playing with his. “Don’t you want answers?”
“Yes,” Michael sighs. “Fine. But don’t get used to this, Kate. You’re not bait. I’m not going to risk you for answers.”
I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. “I won’t be at risk.”
“Don’t you trust me, Clifford?” Calum smirks. Michael sighs again.
“No,” he groans. But we’ve won, and we know it.
“When do you want to do this?” Calum asks me.
“As soon as possible? I work Tuesday,” I tell him.
We set a time and a place, Michael silently disapproving but not speaking up. I keep my fingers wrapped tightly around his, reassuring. Nothing is going to happen; whatever Ashton is hiding, I do not believe that he is dangerous.
Michael pulls back into the McDonalds parking lot and cuts the engine, but we all sit in silence for a moment.
“I don’t like it either, Kate,” Luke mumbles.
“Get out of my car,” Michael huffs rudely.
Luke rolls his eyes and opens the door, not even bothering to say goodbye. Calum offers me a conspiratorial smile, which I only half-heartedly return. Michael is peeling out of the parking lot the second the door closes behind them, his eyes focused on the road but his mind is clearly somewhere else.
I am tempted to break the silence, but some greater force makes me rethink. I know it must have been a lot for Michael to agree to the plan which he clearly disapproved of, so I don’t push my luck by asking questions that he may not want to answer. I shiver in the cold, suddenly realizing that I still have Luke’s jacket draped across my lap.
Michael parks in his usual spot at the apartment, opening and closing his door before I’ve even unbuckled. I hurriedly follow after him, hoping that he’s not angry with me. Much to my relief, though he reaches the building door long before I do, he stops to hold the door for me. We take the elevator in silence, tension rolling off of Michael in waves of dark energy.
He follows me to the door of my apartment, resting his hand on the small of my back as I unlock it. His touch seems to bring me back to the ground, tying me back to him in a tight double knot. There is something about the way that I am so in tune with his emotions that one touch, even through thick fabric, is enough for me to feel the depth of his emotion. He is hurting, and from something much greater than the small adventure we just embarked on.
“What’s wrong?” I murmur, turning to face him the second the door closes behind us. Michael just shakes his head, looking away from me. Even then, he steps closer and winds his arms around my waist, holding me to his chest.
“I don’t—I’m—I can’t—" He takes a deep breath, his chest expanding beneath my cheek, shuddering as he raggedly exhales. “I don’t understand,” he finally manages a full sentence.
“What don’t you understand?” I whisper.
“Why they left me,” he says. His voice is so hurt, so broken. In all the times that my heart has ached for Michael, it has never felt as strong as it does at this moment. The walls that he builds are only there for him to hide behind, but in the moments where they come down—moments like right now—he is revealed for what he truly is. A lost boy, half a man with too many questions and half solved puzzles.
“Michael,” I whisper, holding him tighter. He clings to me, his arms wrapped around my back as if I could offer him any sort of comfort. I am trying my best, but some wounds can’t even be healed by time.
“I don’t understand,” he says again. His voice breaks at the same time that my heart does, and it becomes quite obvious that he is crying. I can tell that he doesn’t want me to know that, so I pretend that I don’t notice. “If that’s them… if that’s really them, Kate, if they live there… if they have all of that… why? Why would they leave me?”
“I don’t know, Michael,” I whisper against his chest. I am crying too. “I wish I knew.”
“I hate them,” he says, releasing a sob. “I really hate them, Kate. I know that’s wrong but I can’t help it.”
“It’s not wrong,” I say, drawing back and wiping the tears from his cheeks.
I hate them too.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, wiping my cheeks the way that I did his.
I shake my head. “Don’t apologize,” I say. We both try to regain our composure for a few moments. “Thank you for bringing me with you,” I say quietly.
“I want you to know me,” he says. “All of me. But I don’t want it to hurt you.”
“It’s not hurting me, Michael. I’m only hurting because you’re hurting.”
“Why?” He asks.
“Why what?”
“Why does my hurting make you hurt?” He seems genuinely confused and I heave a deep sigh.
“I love you, Michael. I love you. That’s why. When will you understand that?”
“Oh,” he whispers, nodding his head. “Oh yeah.”
I laugh a little. “Did you forget?” I ask.
“No,” he finally smiles. “No, I just don’t think that you could possibly love me as much as I love you.”
“Try me,” I whisper, kissing his jaw. He wraps his arms around me again and I feel at home.
“Katherine?” He asks.
“Yeah?”
“Can you please take Luke’s jacket off?”
I laugh, rolling my eyes and shrugging out of the jacket. I could protest, or scold him for being unreasonably jealous, but I don’t. I’m starting to see what Michael needs, I’m starting to understand the way he operates.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, taking my hand and leading me out of the entrance hallway.
“Let’s go to bed,” I whisper. It is cold and I am tired, wanting nothing more than to curl up under a blanket with Michael’s warm body against mine. He nods, a small smile on his face as he laces his arm around my waist and leads me to the bedroom. Michael pulls the comforter back, sitting down and pulling me next to him. He chuckles lightly as I crawl over his body to my usual side of the bed.
My eyes are heavy, and the warmth of Michael’s arms around me adds to my sense of comfort. “I love you,” I sigh, nuzzling into his arms.
“I love you too,” he whispers, tightening his arms. Moments pass and I am on the verge of sleep before he speaks again, softer than a whisper. "Don't leave me.”