Double Agent

○ thirty six ○

I barely have time to adjust my eyes to the darkness when my chair gets yanked backwards out of the room. I hear gunshots ring out in the opposite room but can't shout for Ezra because someone has covered my mouth with a towel. The man covering my mouth hisses when I clamp down on his hand, but cuts me free from my restraints.

"La cagna," the man grits and I blink in confusion when I'm free. (Bitch)

Who the fuck is this? And why is he cutting me out?

"Don't say a word and get into the green car at the back of the house."

It doesn't take long to recognise who it is.

"What about-"

"He's already one step ahead of you. He knows what's going on."

Diligently, for some reason, I find myself following his orders, treading my way through the dark house, relying only on memory and lithe to not be seen.

I see Ezra's outline as he snakes his way to the back door, and he sees me approach him, but doesn't say anything to me. Doesn't even look at me.

"Ezra," I whisper.

He doesn't turn his head to acknowledge me and moves forward, leaving me to tread behind him. It doesn't take a genius to realise he's mad.

---

The lights of the van flicker to life as Ezra and I take a seat opposite each other. He leans back, staring at the light, before his gaze drops to my collarbone. His teeth clench and his gaze strays to the redness around my ankles and wrists. He breathes deeply, looking away.

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck you."

"I'm really sorry, but you have to understand that you left me no choice."

"So you let me wake up to an empty bed, fucking lose my mind over you and drive all the way over here only for you to get hurt anyway? Do you even know how that felt? It felt like I was dying, baby."

"They would've killed my friends. Sent another one to me in a bodybag."

"I don't give a fuck. The whole world can burn down but nothing should happen to you, ever. I fucking can't bear to see you in pain, it drives me crazy."

I cross my arms in frustration, looking away from him because he refuses to acknowledge my perspective.

The van stops after a long silence between us. His jaw is tense and clenched, and he refuses to look at me. Neither do I look at him.

Someone bangs on the door and we start, and it flings open. D'Angelo glares at us through the smoky light of a street lamp, his eyes flitting between us.

"I really, really didn't want to get involved, but you two have fucked this up beyond belief, and now I feel like I have to help you before either of you die and the truth gets lost forever. Get the fuck out and into the house now."

Ezra steps out of the truck first, clocking one of the bodyguards in the face and stealing his rifle. The man moans on the floor, clutching his bloody nose.

"And behave." He glares at Ezra, who ignores him and reloads the gun.

D'Angelo helps me from the truck and I survey my surroundings. We appear to be in the middle of nowhere, at a single grey-looking two story bungalow off the freeway. There's not a car in sight on this street.

Reluctantly I follow them into the house. There isn't any furniture in here, only a ring of men that wait around the house, silently watching us. Ezra aims the rifle at them as we enter, but when none of them react, he relaxes, although his hand still rests on the trigger.