𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 ➤ [ 𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑝 ]

7

"Micheal, what's going on?"

"Nothing Nicole, just- just shut the fuck up." He hissed at me, growing angry with each word.

He takes sip of his whiskey, his eyes locking with mine, somehow growing more angrier as he picks up the glass, smashing it against the wall, the glass cutting me slightly as I groan.

"Mommy." My eyes snap to the strawberry blonde girl, her eyes looking terrified as I give Micheal one last thilthy glance, wiping some blood from my face as I make my way over to Jenna, crouching down.

"It's okay honey, go to your room, I'll be with you in a moment then we can play barbies." Her eyes glance over at Micheal, before they meet mine again.

Her little mind calculates whether or not she should follow my instructions, but soon she nods, rushing down to her room.

With a sigh, I move over to Micheal.

"Tell me Micheal." I instruct curtly, pursing my lips, my eyes boring into his.

He laughs bitterly,

"What do you wanna know?"

"The truth."

Micheal slams his fist down on the table, making me jump slightly.

"The truth? Well, any second now I'll be a gone man, any second now he will burst through the door, and there is nothing I can do about it."

I am thoroughly confused, his words scaring me, and before I can question him, a loud bang is heard, followed by the front door slamming open.

My last thought is to run and get Jenna, but my actions are prohibited when someone grabs me by the wrist, my eyes coming in contact with a masked men, and before I can react, a bag is thrown over my head.

The last thing I hear is the screams of Jenna echoing throughout the house, and then, I am knocked out, almost suffocating in the bag.

I gasp for air, sitting up immediately, my heart hammering in my chest, sweat dripping down my face.

I want to cry, I want to scream, the anger boiling inside of me at the nightmare.

"Pleoh?" His voice is hoarse, yet slightly soft, my head snapping to he single bed only a few feet from mine.

With a sigh, I look over toward Mitch Rapp sitting up in his bed, my eyes adjusting slightly to darkness as I take in his features.

His hair is slightly dishelved, his chest bare. His eyes are on me, and mine are on him.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" I whisper, not wanting to wake the other recruits that are sharing with us in the sleeping hall.