Irresistible (Peterick/side Trohley)

3

Word count--1047

I breathe hard as I continue running. It's hard with my ankle hurting really bad, but I have to keep moving. There's two little girls that have to be found before Zach and Zayn figure out that I'm not dead.

I turn to look back. No one's there. But when I turn back around, I come face to face with a tree. Holy shit. I hear the crack my nose makes when it hits the tree. Blood starts pouring from it.

No, keep moving, Patrick.

I repeat again and again. This isn't happening. It's like the closer I get, the harder it gets to move and continue on. I can't stop, though. Those two little girls were ripped away from their home. They deserve someone who will fight to look for them.

"Oh, Patrick," I hear a booming voice from behind me. I don't have to look back to see that Zayn is closing in on me, so I continue to move as fast as I possibly can at this pace.

There's a little house just further up a ways. I've got to make it there. For the little girls.

"You didn't think you'd get away that easy, do you, Patrick?" Zach comes out of nowhere and trips me. I fall to the ground hard, but I don't stop moving. I crawl as fast as I can.

"Lay the fuck down!" Zayn commands, firing off a shot. I do as I'm told, lying on my back so I can see both of them.

"K-Kill me. Let Anna and Madison go," I choke out. I've been running for who knows how long, trying to find Anna and Madison. With no water.

"Silly little Patrick," Zach reaches down and taps my nose, which really hurts. "They're already dead," My eyes water. That's it.

I kick Zach between his legs, making him fall as Zayn scrambles to shoot me. He can't, though, because by the time he tries to fire, I've already put a bullet in between his eyes. I keep the gun pointed at Zach until Thompson comes running up with the rest of his team, bullet proof vests and guns held high.

"Hey, you okay?" Thompson asks, taking the gun from me and throwing it down. I shake my head. I'm really not. There's two dead little girls because his fucking team couldn't work fast enough. "Come on," He helps me get up and make my way over to the ambulance.

A blanket is draped over my arms and my head is immediately tilted back to where the head paramedic can look at my nose. She cleans off the dry blood and looks at my ankle. The ankle that I've been shot in that hurts like fucking hell.

I couldn't save the girls. Nothing else matters. I'm a screw up.

I jolt awake, sweat dripping off my forehead. Another dream. Or nightmare. Well, it's really just a flashback from hell.

It's been almost a year now, but I still can't get over it. I was almost killed by twins that had gone psycho.

I sigh and get up, walking to my kitchen. I grab a bottle of water out of the fridge and rummage around for something to eat. Pizza from a few days ago it is.

I hum to a Blink 182 song as I think about the last two weeks of my life. Two weeks ago, I moved out of the town I'd lived in for my whole life to come here. A week ago, I started working at the station where I met Andy, Joe, and most importantly, Pete.

They're already three of my best friends. I guess we just bonded.

Zach and Zayn make their way back into my mind. Zach swore that as soon as he got out of prison, he was going to kick my ass. That could still happen. I mean, he's eligible for parole in four years. As long as he doesn't fuck up and beat the shit out of someone else.

The sun creeps up on me. When Pete knocks on my door, I'm sitting in the kitchen with black skinny jeans, a blue button down that's unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up, and my glasses on.

I'm eating an apple when I answer the door. Pete's gaze immediately drops to my chest, where I've forgotten to button my shirt. You can see my Calvin Klein's too. Great.

I gesture for him to come in with my hand because my mouth is full. His eyebrows raise, but he obliges, kicking the door shut with his foot. Fucking germaphobe.

"So, what's up with that?" He points at my body. I look down and then back up at him.

"Wasn't expecting you to be early," I say simply, dropping my apple core into the trash. As I begin to button my shirt, he places his hands atop mine, stopping me.

"Let me," He smiles at me, and I drop my hands as he places his where they once were. Cold fingers brush over the warm skin on my stomach, making me shiver. "You like that, huh?" He smirks again. I know I'm blushing after he leans in and presses his soft lips to my cheek. "All done,"

When I look down, instead of all of the buttons being actually buttoned, he buttoned a little over than half. "Pete," I whine. He shakes his head.

"You're fucking hot, Patrick. Shut the hell up," I smile at him as he grabs my hand and pulls me outside. As soon as we're in his car, he has a bottle of Germ-X out and has it all over his hands.

"Seriously?" I shake my head at him. This is getting to be ridiculous, and I've known him for more or less than a week.

"Seriously," He confirms, rubbing the burning liquid in. He hands me the Germ-X.

"Why do I need this?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. He looks at me with a blank expression on his face.

"If you want me to hold your hand, put some Germ-X on," He says simply, starting the car.

And for some reason, I put the Germ-X on like I'm told. I don't want to admit that reason right now.