(34) Michael Gray

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"Mar, darling, come back to bed," Alex groans.

"It's almost midday, that's when Michael is going to be at Polly's," Amari responds.

"That's an hour away, come back, I promise I'll make it worth it," Alex says, leaning off the edge of the bed, resting her hands on Amari's waist, pulling her backwards onto the bed, flipping them so Alex was hovering above her.

"Oh yeah?" Amari teases, "well who could possibly say no to that?"

"They won't have the opportunity to say no," Alex replies, her lips brushing against Amari's neck, "because nobody else will ever get the offer."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're just trying to get beneath my skirt, Miss Shelby," Amari says, feeling Alex's hand make its way up her leg.

"You should know better by now, Mar," Alex responds, as Amari trails her hand down her bare torso.

-

"Hello, Michael," Alex greets.

"You're Alex?" Michael asks, shaking her hand.

"I'm guessing I'm not what you were thinking of?" Alex responds.

"I-uh, no offence, when they said Alex, I was thinking of another brother," Michael admits, "Alex as in Alexandra?"

"Alexandria, close enough," Alex shrugs, as Amari and Polly walk into the kitchen.

"Hi Michael, I'm Amari," she smiles, hugging the teenager.

"Nice to meet you," Michael responds.

-

"Welcome to the Garrison, Mikey," Arthur says, pushing the doors open, the pub already bustling with life, there were people everywhere.

"This is different to the pubs where, I'm from," he says, looking at Polly with a smile, "it's a good different."

"I'm getting a drink," Alex states, leaning down to whisper in Amaris ear, "want anything, love?"

"I'm alright, thank you," Amari smiles, "be careful."

"It'll be fine," Alex assures, giving her hand a comforting squeeze before making her way to the bar.

When Alex returns to the snug where everyone was sat, she notices Michael taking a special interest in whatever Amari seemed to be saying.

"I'm assuming he doesn't know that you're dating her?" Bentley laughs, offering Alex a cigarette, as well as a lighter.

She goes to hand it back to him but he shakes his head, "I got you a new one, it's yours."

It was a lot nicer than the one she'd had previously, there was an intricate design in its casing with her name engraved in the middle, she glances up at him, "thank you."

"I'm guessing you feel less guilty now?" Bentley asks, gesturing to her face, "Sabini doesn't do anything to captives, he likes to play mind games, make them wait until he eventually shoots them, you wound him up somehow, that's the only possible reason that someone would have hit you."

"I don't like how observant you are," Alex mutters.

"At some point you're going to have to realise not everything bad that happens is your fault," Bentley states, "we explicitly told you that you weren't to blame, but you didn't believe anyone, and purposefully riled up a man who wanted to kill you just so you could feel some sort of pain for your actions. That's not a good mentality to have."

"It's what I'm used to, and I'm not too fond of change," Alex responds, clinking their glasses together, before finishing the whiskey in her glass.

"I'm not drinking to that you fool," Bentley replies.

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