͏b͏r͏o͏k͏e͏n || ͏b͏i͏l͏l͏y ͏h͏a͏r͏g͏r͏o͏v͏e

T W E L V E

"There's something you're not tellin' me," he said softly. Not accusing—just searching my face.

I felt panic claw at my chest. I needed to go. Now. But if I tensed, he'd sense it. If I pushed him, he'd ask questions. And the last thing I needed was Billy showing up at the Lab. So I did the only thing my scrambled brain could come up with.

I reached up, grabbed the front of his half-buttoned shirt, and kissed him.

It was quick—not like the kiss on the floor earlier. More like a distraction, rushed and breathless and sloppy. But it worked. Billy froze, then melted, his hands landing firm on my waist as he kissed me back.

I gripped his bare sides, digging my nails into his skin. He let out a deep groan and for a split second, I almost forgot why I had to leave in the first place.

I pulled back just enough to whisper, "I really do have to go."

His lips brushed mine once more—one last taste—before he whispered, "Yeah?" His eyes were softer now. Less suspicious. More... disappointed.

"Yeah," I breathed. "I'll be back though."

He exhaled like he was trying to steady himself. "Fine. But next time you kiss me like that, you're not leavin' so fast."

My cheeks heated, but before I could respond—

SLAM.

Both our heads snapped toward the hallway. Billy's jaw locked. His eyes darkened. "Oh, sh—"

Tap tap.

"Billy?" Susan's voice floated through the door, small and unsure.

Billy cursed under his breath, buttoning his shirt fully. He shot toward the door, then turned back to me with urgent, frantic eyes.

"You need to hide. Right now."

"Open the door. Right now!" Neil's voice thundered from the hall.

Billy flinched.

The fear in his eyes made my stomach twist.

It wasn't the usual Billy bravado—this was raw, stripped bare. He pointed toward the closet with a trembling urgency.

"Go," he whispered. "Please."

He didn't beg. Ever. That one word alone sent adrenaline spiking through my veins.

I slipped into the closet just as he cracked the door. I peered in through the clothes, through the slits in the door.

Susan stood in the hallway, wringing her hands. Neil towered beside her, his face tight and thunderous. The tension around them practically hummed—thick enough to choke on.

What is going on?

Billy closed the door behind him and walked toward them, forcing his face blank as he cast me a split-second glance. Panic flickered behind his eyes, and it hit me again—he was scared. Not of being caught with me.

Of him.

"What's wrong?" Billy asked, voice careful, controlled.

"Why don't you tell us?" Neil snapped, stepping forward like a predator circling prey.

"Because I don't know," Billy said, lifting his hands in a helpless gesture.

Susan's voice quivered. "We can't find Maxine."

"And her window's open," Neil said sharply. His accusation was unmistakable. "Where is she?"

"I don't know," Billy repeated, his voice thinning under the tension.