Grand Theft Autumn

Chapter 22

Pete's POV

    "Do you know anything about the gang?" I asked. Natasha nodded confidently, grabbing the motel's notepad and a pen.

    "It is all about timing, and not letting anyone get suspicious. We have to be quick." Natasha said. She started writing down an address on the paper. "This is where it is at, but don't go there until we are putting things into motion."

    "When are we going to do it?"

    "Four days from now. Let's do it in four days."

    "Will Patrick be able to stay safe until then?" At the look on Natasha's face, I didn't know if I regretted asking or not.

    "I..." Natasha hesitated, and that was all the answer I needed.

    "Three days. We will do it in three days. Now, what is my job?" Natasha glanced at me, but there was no pity in her eyes.

    "To get in there. I will set it up so it looks like you are delivering drugs. I will get some distraction, and get you to Patrick." Natasha continued to talk, but I cut her off.

    "Why can't you just get Patrick? I mean, it would be safer." I asked. She obviously knew the place better, and if she had access to Patrick, why couldn't she do it?

    Natasha shook her head.

    "No."

    "Why no-"

    "Cause it wouldn't work. Now shut up and listen." Natasha said, annoyance creeping into her voice. "I will take you to him, and we get out of there. Okay, you are going to leave without me." I furrowed my brow.

"Why?" Natasha glared at me, and I shut my mouth.

"Once you have him, leave. Forget that this ever happened." Natasha got up, and handed me the paper. I will come by tomorrow for details. Stay safe." At her words, I remembered something.

"Obviously, they already know about me, with them beating me up and all. But I think they came here tonight." Natasha's eyes widened. "I was going to go out for dinner, but someone started knocking on the door. Like, banging on it. They kept doing it, and they called me by my name. Whoever it was kept yelling that I needed to come out, and that they knew I was in here. To be honest, I was terrified."

Natasha sat back down in her seat, and ran her fingers through her hair. I glanced at the photo that I had on the bed. Honestly, you could cut off all of my limbs and I wouldn't care, as long Patrick was safe.

"Oh, God. Okay, um-" Natasha stopped, and looked at me. I was still looking at the picture of Patrick, and her eyes softened. "Do you love him? Patrick?" My cheeks flamed red, and I refused to look up at her.

But I nodded. I did, I do, love Patrick. I have for ages. He didn't know, oh God, I hope he doesn't know. That could ruin Fall Out Boy, ruin us. I valued our friendship too much to lose him over this. It wasn't worth it. That didn't mean that I melted every time I heard his voice. Or every time he hugged me, or on the occasion that I got to cuddle with him, when he had a bad dream.

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "I do." Natasha smiled at me, and leaned over to me. She lightly punched me on the shoulder.

"Let's go get your boyfriend," Natasha joked. I smiled. "Like I-"

Natasha was cut off by a knock at the door. We both froze, and I slowly got up. Natasha followed me, and I thought I saw her hand go to her waist like she had a gun. I hope she didn't. I mean, at this moment it could be kind of useful. But still, that was scary.

I unlocked the door, feeling my stomach drop. What if it was them? What if they were going to kill us as soon as I opened the door?

Natasha nudged me. "Do it. I got us covered." Her voice was quiet. Jesus. She did have a gun. Unfortunately, that did make me feel a little bit better.

Whoever was on the other side of the door knocked again. It was a normal knock, one that you would expect from your neighbor or something.

I put my hand on the door handle, and slowly turned it. I pulled the door towards me, and I felt Natasha's hand on my waist, reassuring me that she was close.

The door swung open, and Natasha whipped out her gun. The person on the other side of the door was smiling, but his face quickly dropped as he saw the gun. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach, even though no one had touched me.

It was Brendon fucking Urie.