Undercover (Boyxboy)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ethan

To say that my brain was going into meltdown would be an understatement.

Harry was standing in the middle of the room, a pained expression on his face that he was desperately trying to disguise. It was a result from me punching him, accidentally, in the stomach.

But I couldn't even acknowledge the pain in Harry's face. Not now that they were telling me this absolute, utter shit.

A secret mission? A fucking secret mission?

I had a second of doubt in my head at believing them before I knew that they were being honest. I could tell by the way they were talking and I could tell by Harry's face. He couldn't lie for shit – that was evident by his scenes at the graveyard. It was beginning to make sense.

A tiny ounce of concern for Harry and Hugh managed to nudge its way in through the meltdown in my head and that only made me madder. I shouldn't have anything but accusations and hatred towards them for this.

I wanted to throw up and cry at the same time. I had never in my life felt so vulnerable. Well, apart from the day this dickhead drove away and left me here under the apparently false pretences of not loving me anymore.

How could he do it? How could he actually have left me? I knew that I was the more serious one in our relationship, especially when it came to work, but I knew that I could never, ever have left him. Not for anything. The hurt he inflicted on me these past few months wasn't worth a billion dollars and certainly not a measly secret fucking mission.

I watched in awe as Tom was silenced by Harry's fist. I was numb – I could barely even feel the tears flowing down my cheeks now. When had I started crying? Or re-started, I should say. When Harry and Hugh first arrived into the room I had been in the middle of a semi-breakdown.

Harvey and Jennifer could see that I was on the verge of losing it earlier when all the other agents couldn't keep their mouths shut about the return of the 'wanderers' that were Hugh and Harry. Not even Tom could calm me. So Harvey and Jennifer dragged me into their office where I just let everything out.

It had been a relief, to be honest. But now, now that I looked at all of their faces, all I felt was betrayal. Raw, gut-wrenching betrayal. I didn't care for their reasons. I didn't care that they did it to end the saga of Dawson and Michael ruling our lives.

I just didn't care.

"I'm sorry," Harry said hoarsely to me as he walked out the office door, leaving Hugh struggling to keep Tom upright after he was knocked out. In the past I would have smiled proudly at Harry's accomplishment at actually succeeding in knocking someone out. But now, I couldn't even comprehend what was happening.

Tom's father – the man who had threatened to kill me on numerous occasions if Tom didn't end our relationship – was back. He was the reason Tom and I had ended. And even though I didn't love Tom like that anymore, I was still haunted by my eighteen-year-old self – the boy who had to turn into a man very quickly.

How many more people were going to rise from the fucking dead? I was glad for the first time in my life that I had no parents to suddenly resurrect. I had been given up for adoption as a baby and since I could remember I was thrown from foster house to foster house until my eighteenth birthday when I was left to fend for myself.

The only person I truly had back then was Tom. Until his father took that away from us.

There was a tension-riddled silence in the room once Harry and Hugh had left. Tom was lying on the ground with a bruise gathering on his right temple. None of us moved. I think Harvey and Jennifer were afraid to. Afraid of what I would do.