Hold Me Down (Peterick) ➳ Book 3

Sixteen

The kitchen had come to life in an array of lights and smells. Patrick was humming away in pure happiness as he fluttered around the brightly lit room. He wasn't sure what had him in such a good mood, but he wasn't complaining. Frank and Gerard were supposed to be over soon to have dinner with him, so maybe that was it.

He hadn't seen the orange haired girl—what was her name? Patrick couldn't remember—in a while, but that didn't phase him. It wasn't like he was actively looking for her or being active in general. Patrick rarely left the house anyway.

A smile came to his face as someone knocked on the door. He could hear Frank and Gerard bickering from the other side of the door. The noise abruptly stopped, causing Patrick to frown.

"Guys?" he said as he pulled it open.

Frank and Gerard were locked at the lips, clinging onto one another tightly. They didn't seem to notice Patrick had opened the door and was staring at them in confusion. He could only imagine what they had been arguing about before, but his heart squeezed in an unfamiliar way as the two kept kissing.

For some reason he felt as if he'd been in a similar situation before, getting heated up over something so trivial, getting kissed while he was in the middle of saying something. And while he didn't know who he'd done it with, but he suddenly missed those rude interruptions.

Leaving the door open, he stumbled into the small dinning room where the table was set. In Patrick's mind he was seeing a long ornate table with dozens of faceless people staring at him. One of them had glowing pink hair.

It seemed as if she was talking, but her voice was muffled.

"Patrick?"

Shaken out of his stupor by Gerard's cool hand on his shoulder, Patrick looked up at him.

"Huh?"

"You okay?"

Patrick nodded.

"Never better."

Frank helped him finish up dinner while Gerard rambled on about an idea he had for a comic book he wanted to write. Patrick tried to stay engaged, but the images—memories?—were circling in his mind. How could they be memories when this was all Patrick had known?

He didn't want to push it; however, he found himself straining to uncover more of these mysterious scenes in his mind as he lay in bed that night.

Who was the woman with the pink hair? What about the man with the red? And why did he feel so exhausted, as if he'd been mentally drained by that meeting, how he knew it was a meeting was beyond him, before?

*

The hunter knew he couldn't act then.

His eyes narrowed at the sight of the two robots surrounding the human, his target, acting like his friend. What if he knew the truth? It was a possibility. The hunter knew what the man's odd behavior was about even if those freaks of nature that called themselves Killjoys didn't.

The hunter knew he had to bide his time, but time was running out. It always was.

He could capture the target now and face minimal consequences, but was it worth it? The hunger shook his head. No, it wasn't. The target's mind wasn't in the right place. Not enough had been recovered for his capture to be worth anything. It was best to let him remain in a familiar environment until there was something useful to be obtained.

For now, he would wait.

*

Pete wanted to press the glowing orange button on the keyboard, but knew better. The security on the house had been severely compromised since the last attack and no one knew just how much could go wrong if anything important was opened.

Several of his best computer whizzes were working away for hours on end to provide some type of security to the server, but none of them could compare to Ryan.

Pete not only longed for the man's brilliant mind but his friendship as well. Ryan had been one of the few who knew Pete on a deeper level than most, and now was when he needed the man more than ever.

"Another server attack had been defended, Your Highness," one of the people at one of the computers said.

"Barely," another chimed in. She flinched as the first man hit her on the shoulder, a hit she returned with equal force. "What was that for?"

"You're not supposed to tell him anything but what we did!"

"And we barely fought them off, something he needs to know. With enough attack's they're going to get through." She turned to face Pete. "They'll find Patrick."

Pete's face hardened. He knew exactly what would happen if the enemy were to breach the server. He didn't need anyone to tell him that.

He opened his mouth to order everyone out, when a loud screeching sound reverberated through the room.

Pete watched as the seven members of the server's defense team began furiously typing away. The bold woman looked up at him moments later. "We're receiving some footage. Would you like to see it?"

Pete nodded.

She typed a code into the keyboard and the video playing on her monitor began playing on the large screen on the wall.

No one recognized the room, save for Pete. He'd seen Ryan in there plenty of times toiling away hours in order to prefect the latest project he was working on. The room was usually pristine and organised, everything having their special place. Now, the room was destroyed and in its center was a long, blue haired girl--The Hurricane. She wasn't looking at anything particular, nor did she appear to be aware that she was being filmed.

"I'll kill them," she muttered. "First Ryan, the the Killjoys, then that good for nothing King."

She leaned down and picked up a broken stool. Observing it for a few moments she ran her hands over the metal before hurtling it towards the camera.

As the feed died away she turned around.

"Long live the king."