Cutie ⇔ Muke ✓

[13] So, where's Michael?

Warning: mentions sensitive topics that can be triggering.

LUKE

I never truly understood what it would feel like-- standing in the eye of a hurricane. Your feet braced against the ground as you stand, filling your lungs with oxygen as hell rises around you. Hearing nothing but the hot blood rushing in your ears, and the screech of the wind and debris spinning around you. I always wondered what it would be like to have every cell in your body fall into uncontrollable paralysis, the blood in your veins freezing into stone as you stay motionless, your eyes a hollow void of dark space as the inevitable storm sucks each ounce of energy from your bones.

I understand what it is like now, because this is exactly what it felt like as the words left Carter's lips. They hung out into the empty air like blades, causing the entire earth to stop revolving its usual orbit. My chest deflates, my lungs emptying itself of the oxygen needed for my body to function as my ears start to ring. My head feels light, but I have nothing but bricks to fall back onto.

The moment of unobtrusiveness lasts for less than a second before my muscles jerk, my hands clawing at Michael's body, pulling him protectively into my strong grasp as my body spins around, blue eyes meeting a pair of dark brown ones, fire evident in their eyes. I know exactly who it is, and I want to scream. My lungs burn with acidic flames as I seal my lips shut to suppress any unwanted noises from my tongue. I want to stay strong, stay strong for Michael, but I can tell we are already broken.

The man is a couple inches taller than me, his arm grasping the handle of a shiny black gun. The arm raises the gun so that the barrel faces straight at my forehead. Confusion floods my veins as to why the gun is pointed to my face and not the sweet boy in my arms, but I don't complain. I would much rather it be me than the boy with the kitten ears in my arms.

Light suddenly fills the room. I am unsure of who turned on the switch, but my mind starts to melt when I see how many detectives have surrounded us in the room. They are all dressed in complete black, guns aimed straight at the two of us. I see Ashton stare around at the scene with wide eyes, his fingers twitching by his sides. I have no idea what to do, captured under the stare of so many cold eyes.

"Well, look what we have here." A deep voice laced with ice leaves Draven's lips. I hold Michael to my chest, visibly shaking from so much anger as the man lifts a hand toward the kitten boy's head. I clench my jaw as he fingers the edge of the beanie, sliding it effortlessly off. A smile forms on his dry lips when he sees the unmistakable ears sitting on top of Michael's head. The red hair that was formerly hidden underneath the hat is pressed against his head, making the kitten ears even more noticeable, and the boy melts into my embrace. I glance down at him, and I feel the ribs guarding my heart shatter into a thousand fragments as I watch a glistening tear drip from one of his perfect eyes.

"The culprit himself." Draven finishes off, tilting his head to analyze the boy's features. Michael whimpers softly. I clench my jaw, my eyes cutting away from Draven's gun up to Ashton, who stands behind the row of detectives. He looks terrified, his hands in front of him as though he doesn't know what to do with them. He meets my eyes that are blazing with anger. I look away from his gaze and towards a window that sits in the corner of the den. The door is blocked off by four detectives, all holding rifles in their hands. Their gaze is stony, not one ounce of emotion hidden in the lines of their faces.

I tighten my grip around Michael, feeling his fluffy hair brush against the bottom of my chin. The contact almost makes me start to sob, but I hold back the tears. In a fast blur of motion, I bend my knees and scoop Michael into my arms, cradling him to my chest princess style. The position reminds me of when I carried him to our room on our first night here, when he broke down in front of me and told me about his mother. The memory makes my throat close up. I can't have him have the same fate as her.