𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

27 | Weight of the World on my Shoulders

Y/N

Honestly, I don't know how to approach this whole Priya situation. She's reverted back to her usual self sending jobs via email like she always does, calling me sweetheart and using familiar nicknames. A part of me wants to continue working like we always have and let this whole Tom thing blow over, but another part of me is scared to continue working for her.

Maybe I could just explain to her that Tom doesn't know anything about my job and that I keep it insanely secret from him. Maybe I can tell her that my career is the one thing Tom doesn't know about me. I know it would be a lie but I guess Tom doesn't know everything right? It's not like I tell him exactly what each job is, I'll just briefly mention I'm hacking into someone's bank account over breakfast, or that I'm setting up a recording device in their home via a fake electrician.

I don't know anymore. I don't know anything about Priya and it's starting to worry me. This type of job specifically thrives because of the anonymity between colleagues and yourself; it's a job that thrives off illegal activity, why would you all gather round as friends in an office to share information?

I haven't taken any new jobs from Priya luckily, I've been pretty busy with my current one. I had agreed to a pretty big one before Tom had gotten out of prison but I have been pretty slack with it. Half my time is spent working on compiling fake evidence for Tom's lawyer Jen to use in his trial and the resort of my time is on the job from Priya.

Apparently this corrupt business CEO has been doing some dirty things and he believes that slowly but surely people are starting to conspire against him. He's paying me a hefty cash sum to scan through all of the company technology to see what I can find on his staff. It's a pretty easy job, it's just long. And I don't have the fucking time.

"Yeah Jen, I know, I know. It's harder than you think, I have to make sure that every little piece of information we give them, can't be traced back to me. And I need it to make sense for when I frame the other killer. Because if it doesn't make perfect sense, they'll start looking for more information," I sighed, holding my phone up against my ear.

Tom was pretty excited when Priya knew a photo of us was in my house. Not only because I actually had a photo of him with me, but because it meant I would be moving back in with him. He was excited because it meant he didn't have to be alone all day every day.

Of course, he wanted Priya dead. That's Tom's reaction to anything that puts me in danger; kill them. I had to remind him multiple times not to fucking put a hit out on Priya because if it backfired, I'd be the one going to jail. She knew every single fucking job I had ever done.

As little as I knew about Priya, I knew one thing for sure: she's a lady you don't want to fuck with.

"And it'll be ready before the trial I promise okay? Just- yeah... I know Jen, just give me until then," I sighed, nodding and hanging up the phone:

"You okay darling?" Tom asked as I came inside from the balcony and smiled. He can see straight through the smile though, I know he can.

"Yeah I'm all good, just chatted to a Jen about your trial," I shrugged.

"You don't look 'all good' though," he said squinting.

"It's just, the information isn't ready. And I'm a little stressed because if it's not perfect, you're getting sent back in jail," I sighed, sitting back down at the kitchen table where I had my laptop set up and numerous notepads around me.

Tom came over to me and rubbed my shoulders soothingly, which was nice but I really just needed to focus right now.

"The gesture is cute Tom but seriously, I just need to work," I said putting my head in my hands and screwing my eyes shut.

"You're overwhelmed and you're overworked darling, you need to take a break," he said now digging his thumbs into my shoulders and massaging them.

"But every break I take, is time I could be spending on keeping you out of jail," I mumbled against my palms, trying not to just burst into tears.

But I failed. I crumbled, I cried, I sobbed.

I felt like my chest was caving in, like each of my ribs were curling inwards and shattering along with my lungs and heart. The weight of the world was on my shoulders and by world, I mean my world; Tom. Tom's life out of prison was dependant on me framing someone else for my murders and it was wearing me out.

"Hey, no stop, come on. Step away from the laptop for just two seconds and come here," Tom said pulling me up and wrapping his arms tightly around me.

My face was pressed against his chest and my arms were stuck at my sides as Tom squeezed me, rubbing my back to console me.

"Why are you crying Y/N?" He asked.

"Because I don't want to lose you again," I whimpered against his shirt, which was probably pretty muffled for him to hear.

"If they try and take me away again, I'll cut this ankle bracelet off and I'll flee. I'll take a private jet to the mountains of New Zealand and become a sheep farmer in the middle of the snow with no technology and not grocery stores and I'll just become a hermit," he laughed.

"But you hate snow," I sobbed.

"But you don't hate the snow... You'll keep me warm," he said letting go of me.

"In New Zealand? As fugitives running away from the world for the rest of our lives?" I said wiping my wet cheeks from the salty tears streaming down them.

Tom just laughed, mostly at how dumb this New Zealand plan was. I can't imagine Tom living in a snow covered forest and surviving off catching fish and making fires. Tom doesn't suit the recluse life.

"Or we smuggle drugs in Colombia. But between me and you I'd love to retire from all of this shit and just herd sheep. Actually, fuck the sheep idea, I just want to survive comfortably off my money and live with you and not have to worry about working," he smiled, stroking a bit of my hair away from my face.

"I just don't want to lose you again," I sniffled.

"Darling, did you not just listen to me ramble about bloody sheep and living in a little mountain cave? You don't have to worry about me going to jail again," he said reassuringly, laughing at his wild escape plan.

"It's not you I'm worried about, it's me."