Undercover (Boyxboy)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Harry

I thought my heart was going to beat its way out of my chest – I genuinely held a fear that at any moment, blood would come seeping from my upper chest and my heart would lie on the floor before me, completely worn out.

I knew my decision to trust that big-titted bitch was a huge gamble and a risk – I knew that Ethan could be one-hundred percent right when he said she was bluffing. In fact, I nearly thought it myself, too.

But it was that one-percent chance that she was being honest – that in her final moments of life she finally decided to do the right thing, in her sick twisted way. It was the 'what if' that kept my feet moving. I couldn't leave it to chance. I just couldn't.

We walked a quick pace down the winding corridors, Ethan following close behind me. There had been no point in pleading with him to stay behind – that if this truly was a suicide mission, let it be a solo one. Because I knew that if the roles were reversed, I would have laughed at him if he had asked me to stay behind.

"Slow down," Ethan muttered as I walked quickly towards a sharp corner. Around this corner it led us into the lobby. And on the right hand side of the lobby was our final destination; the main living room. The place where so much socialising and happiness had happened over our years here.

I thought back to our happier times here in this Downton Abbey wannabe mansion. I hadn't fully appreciated its hidden beauty and its homeliness. Ethan and I had often sat in front of the fire in this sitting room, which often resulted in me dozing off and him gently nudging me awake, helping me walk to our bedroom.

As I slowed to a stop when I reached the sharp corner in the hallway, I allowed these past memories to drift into my mind. They gave me a form of courage to continue – that I was in my home and I needed to protect my family at whatever cost. Even if that cost was my life.

I looked back at Ethan who was swallowing nervously. I couldn't let it cost his life. I had to protect him, no matter what. I just hoped I would be given the opportunity to – I kept telling myself that I had to save him. But what if I couldn't?

I edged my head around the corner, allowing just my eyes to seek out any enemies before darting back behind the safety of the wall again. Ethan was keeping a look out behind us, ensuring we wouldn't be graced with any surprise attackers from behind.

"The coast is clear," I whispered, turning fully to look at him. His eyes connected with mine and we knew that this was it. Once we stepped out around that corner and started walking, it would be defining moment in our lives. Either we would win or we would lose – live or die.

I was imagining this scenario as if it was black and white – that there would be one clear winner and one loser. But what if I defeated my father and Dawson, only to realise everyone I loved was dead from the crossfire's? Would I be a winner then? If even one more of my loved ones died, could I count that as a victory?

"Are you sure you –," Ethan started but I shushed him with my hand.

"The time for turning back is over. We need to keep walking – I need to keep walking."

He took a deep breath, reaching up and holding my hand against his lips and giving it a soft kiss. I closed my eyes momentarily, trying to keep my strength and composure for him – not allowing his loving gesture to crack my 'I'm fine' exterior.

He would follow me anywhere. The Lord of the Rings suddenly popped into my head and I imagined myself as Frodo and Ethan as Sam, with Sam faithfully following Frodo into Mordor.