“I’m not lying.” The words sound choked, and I know he doesn’t believe me.
He lets out a humourless laugh. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just run your fingerprints and your DNA to find out who you really are.”
My heart stops, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. Fear slithers through my veins like ice, terrifying me to my core. Ishake my head rapidly, the tears falling faster now as panic grabs hold of me.
“No, please. P-please, don’t d-do that. Y-you ca-can’t,” I stutter, struggling to breathe.
His eyes narrow on me, and just for a fraction of a second, he seems shocked by my reaction, but his anger returns quickly. “Why?”
I try frantically to catch my breath, but the panic becomes too much and a sob escapes. “You can’t. Please. Please, don’t do that.”
“That’s not a reason.” I’m not sure if his voice sounds softer, or if it’s just my wishful thinking.
I meet his gaze, hoping he can see how desperate I am as I say, “I’m asking you to do me a favour, please.”
He closes his eyes, screwing them tightly shut, before he slams his hand against the wall beside my head. I yelp in shock, and his eyes spring open.
“I don’t owe you anything. Do you have any idea how much you broke me, and now you stand here asking me for a favour? You don’t get to do that.”
His voice breaks at the end, betraying how he really feels. His anger is a front for the hurt he’s still carrying around. Pain is something I’m more than familiar with, as it has plagued me for the last seven years, since I left him.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” I know the words will never be enough, but I hope he can hear how much I fucking mean them.
His face scrunches, like he’s in pain, warring with himself over how to respond. He leans a little closer, and I can feel his breath against my face. I hold my breath, my heart racing from how close he is. The heat from his body warms me, and I want desperately to throw my arms around his neck, like I used to.
The air seems to crackle around us as we stand there staring at each other, neither even daring to breathe in case it fractures the moment we’ve found ourselves in.
Out of nowhere, we hear banging on the door behind us. The door handle jiggles, but doesn’t open, as it automatically locked when it slammed shut. I feel the door trembling behind me, and the noise is enough to burst our bubble.
Miles takes a small step back, the intensity that was in his gorgeous eyes just a moment ago is replaced by the coldness I’ve seen since coming back. My heart sinks as the distance between us grows again.
“What the hell is going on in there? Open this door, right now. I heard the bang,” Jake shouts from the other side.
Miles rolls his eyes as he lets out a groan. “Fuck off, Pretty Boy.”
“No,” Jakes snaps as he bangs against the door again, no doubt trying to force it open. “I swear to fuck, I will break this door down if you don’t let me in, and you know Marcus will be pissed, so I’ll make sure he knows it was all your fault, Miles.”
Miles massages his temples, like Jake is giving him a headache. Then, before I know it, he grabs hold of my waist and drags me away from the door, pulling it open as soon as I’m out of the way.
Jake, who was about to ram his shoulder against it again, stumbles into the room, cursing loudly. I don’t even stop to make sure he’s okay; I shake off Miles’ hold on me and run away. I can’t hold back the tears, as they trail down my face, sobs wracking my body.
I knew coming back here would be hard, but I never thought it would be like this. I was expecting him to be mad, but the boy I knew was forgiving. He would have heard my story, accepted my apology, and then I’d have been able to tell him why I’m here.But that boy is long gone, and now I’m not sure if there’s anyone who will ever be able to help me.
I came back here after being on the run for nine years, because I finally thought I’d found someone I could trust, who would actually be able to help me.
Now I know about the life Miles and Marcus live, I’m sure they have the connections to assist me, and Miles is the only person I’ve ever trusted, so coming here gave me hope. Hope that I could stop running, stop living in fear, and finally have the life I’d always wanted. Now that hope has gone, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do.
Ican count on one hand the amount of times I’ve heard Miles lose his temper. He’s one of the most level-headed people I know. So to hear him screaming at Indie, I was honestly shocked.
I know I shouldn’t be standing on the other side of the door, listening to them, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve never seen anyone—other than myself—be able to invoke these kinds of feelings in Miles. I also can’t deny the sinking feeling that’s been in my stomach since I found out about Indie.
I know Miles and I haven’t been close for a long time, but how the fuck did I miss him not only falling in love, but having his heart broken so badly?
Around that time, and for a few years afterwards, I was living in a perpetually intoxicated state. My diet consisted of booze, drugs, and whatever food Chloe forced me to eat. I was on a dangerous downward spiral, living in a haze, so I’m not surprised I didn’t notice.
Would I have even wanted to?
I suspect watching Miles fall in love would have been one of the hardest things in the world, and I’m not sure I would have survived it, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise.