Misty
When I saw the headlights of that car so close to Michael, something unusual happened. It was like time froze, and everything was moving in slow motion. It was like witnessing what happened to everyone I ever loved many years ago.
That's why I was so shaken, but I had to forget that quickly when I felt a tight grip on my arm and felt myself practically being dragged through these streets – without a clue of where we were heading.
Then I heard the snarling and woofing of dogs close behind us.
We reached a wall and I doubted that we were going any further, when 'Mr. Anonymous' practically lifted me over it and jumped straight after me, and lucky so because the dogs had sussed us out. I still held a tight grip on his hand after reaching safety, though it seemed as if he didn't plan on letting go.
We started walking again, although none of us knew where we were or where we were heading either. We just walked. It felt like hours before we both decided to stop.
"Why do you want to see my face so bad?" He asked me, one hand on the brim of his hat.
"Well, I'm spending all of these hours with someone who I couldn't identify without a hat – Also who wouldn't want to know who they're with?"
"Why would you ever need to identify me?"
"I wouldn't I'm just – look, you know what I mean." I said, he needed to stop making me feel paranoid about what I said. It was making me weary.
"If I showed you my face, and told you my name, then you would tell the gang and they would kill me. Do you know that?"
I gasped at his words. Kill him? This gang wouldn't hurt someone innocent. Someone innocent with worth, and this bold man clearly had potential. But I couldn't give away now. I wanted to know who he was; regardless of my job.
"I wouldn't – I mean I'm not in the Five Points. You have nothing to worry about. Why would anyone want to kill you anyways, what did you do?"
He exhaled quickly and shook his head, looking at the floor. His hands were both in his pockets, though he left the blood-stained one half out – careful not to get anything on his trousers I presumed.
"It's complicated." He said finally, shakiness and a hint of sadness in his tone, "It's nothing I did. Can I trust you?"
"I guess so, I mean-"
"No, I mean can I really trust you, enough to tell you why I'm in this situation and enough for you to not tell a soul." His words lingered in the air before finally reaching my understanding.
"Y-yes." And I meant that. I swore to myself I wouldn't tell. I was talking to him as I would anyone else that I was interested in.
"First of all," He said, holding his hat still on his head, "My name is Michael. Try not to say it too much. And secondly..." He tilted his hat upwards instead of taking it off, and I felt my heart stand still as my eyes locked with his for the first time.
He had a slim nose with deep brown eyes. The kind that burn right through your soul. The kind that an artist would create. He wore slight black eyeliner, making his feline assets stand out even more. How could he keep me from seeing his eyes for this long? How could he keep me from seeing what I wanted to look at for the rest of my life?
I was speechless, and I felt my cheeks become red as he bit his lip, smiling slightly. He shrugged a shoulder and cleared his throat again,
"And – and I um – I was married. And she was, s-she was pregnant."
"Was?" I questioned, and then I saw slight pain in his eyes.
"She- I- I can't explain in full detail. I'm sorry. But this alliance- this wretched gang murdered her. Because this eight-month pregnant innocent-" His tone was raising and his fists were now clenched into tight balls. He kicked something on the floor and I could see he was getting exceedingly exasperated.
"Hey, hey Michael it's okay. You don't have to continue, alright? I rubbed his elbow as a sign of comfort, and it worked as he managed to smile – even if it was full of sorrow.
"Because my wife knew about this gang, they assumed that I did too; and they were right. She had told me about it. So I decided to run after they- they-"
"You don't have to say it." I smiled, keeping my hand on his elbow as we strolled through the cold and now-empty streets.
"And now they are after me. I don't know what they want – but if they wanted me dead they would've done it by now – for sure."
So that's what boss wanted. A taciturnity contract. Or for him to join us – and I could already tell Michael was too stubborn for either of those.
"You see, I say gang, but it's much more than that. It's like- like a mafia." He said, his breath emerging as smoke. And I could see his point. Illegal trades, making criminals. Fraudulent tasks and drug-trafficking.
"I wouldn't say mafia..." I trailed off, feeling slightly dismayed at his full story. I couldn't continue with this mission.
I would rather kill myself than make this innocent soul go through hell – again.
In that moment, I decided I would call my boss and tell him I'm leaving the alliance as soon as I got home. For good. For normality.
For a broken man.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
So it looks like Michael broke his vow to himself - I'm sorta glad he did. I didn't know what to write him as because I felt like 'Anonymous' and 'The Stranger' were getting overused!
Misty wants to leave the gang for Michael - but does he feel the same with commitment as he did before?
Find out in chapter 8!
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