The Retribution Chronicles

M i r i a m | t w e n t y - t w o

Ade's eyes needled into the back of Miriam's skull. A pressure built in their wake; an ache Miriam couldn't shake. Then again, she didn't want to because it meant everything was going to plan. He was two close calls away from exploding, and if that wouldn't push him over the edge, Miriam was sure a sceptical comment from Ryan would do the trick. All she needed was to get him down here.

Before she could concoct an adequate plan, her phone buzzed. She excused herself, leaving Brandon to re-join the game, and shuffled to a dimly lit corner.

Wes:

upstairs now

Miriam:

are you alright???

Yes

Miriam pocketed her phone and headed towards the centre of the room. She placed a hand on Ade's forearm and rolled onto her tiptoes, lips brushing against his ear. "I'm going to the bathroom," she whispered.

He turned, pinning her with a curious stare. "Again?"

"Accidently broke the seal," she said with a shrug. "I should've held out longer."

"Rookie mistake."

"I'll be right back." She stepped past and ran up the stairs, crashing through the crowd and legging it upstairs. Wes was waiting on the landing, phone in hand. He slotted it into his back pocket, latched a hand around her wrist, and yanked, dragging her straight into the nearest room which happened to be Ade's, complete with a neatly made bed and small black suitcase squashed in the leftmost corner.

"Sit," Wes said, pointing at the bed.

"I'm not in the mood for—"

"Just fucking sit down."

Miriam swallowed a sigh and perched on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs at the ankle while Wes began to pace. Up and down he went, shaking his head, nostrils flared, until he came to an abrupt stop in front of her. "What are you playing at?" he asked.

Miriam blinked. "Excuse me?"

"What are you playing at?" he repeated himself. "With Ade. One minuet you're all over him, the next you're letting Brandon chat you up."

"It's harmless fun." Miriam began to stand, but Wes shot her a menacing glare that forced her to sit back down.

"You said Ade made you happy," he hissed.

Miriam's head jerked back. "I did no such thing," she said.

Wes' head jerked back like a turtle scurrying into its shell. "Yes, you did," he said. "In the car. Yesterday."

"You asked if Ade could make me happy, not if he's actually making me happy."

"So he isn't?" Wes asked.

"Isn't what?" Miriam muttered.

"Making you happy." He threw his hands in the air. "Fucking hell Miriam, why are you making this so difficult?"

"I don't know Wesley," she bit back.

He cringed from his name, whole body shaking, and sat beside her, his aura softening slightly. "Is he making you happy?" he asked again, gaze so intense Miriam was surprised it didn't burn a hole straight through her forehead.

"Ade?" she said, buying herself time.

"Yes. Is Ade making you happy?"

Silence settled between them, interrupted by the sounds of the party below. But in there, in that room, Ade's room, a sort of sanctity wrapped around the pair, bringing the truth closer to the surface.