✓ ❘ 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐈𝐈: 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ─ 𝐁. 𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇ: ᴀᴘᴀᴛʜʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜʀɢᴇɴᴄʏ

"I told you," I growled, my rage level at peak as I stared at my scumbug of a brother, "you lost the right to call me your brother."

I started backtracking, heading for the door. I knew that if I didn't leave right then, I would snap completely, and I didn't want that, because I couldn't afford to kill Mason before I got what I needed - regardless of how much I wanted to unleash my wrath upon him.

"Our father might've been a virus, Mason," I called to him as I reached for the door handle, preparing to deliver one more verbal blow, "But just know that in my eyes, you're worse than he could've ever been."

Sure, some people would disagree with my statement, but who gives a fuck about them, anyway. I believed it. I believed the words I said. Because as much of a sick fuck my father was, he wasn't the one who broke me.

My brother did that.

The moment I set foot in the hallway and shut the door to the cell behind me, The Hounds tumbled out of the viewing room, rushing to join me in my stampede down the overly lit hallway.

"So what now?" Ambrose asked, jogging forward to meet my strides.

I was breathing so harshly, the sound bounced off of the concrete walls as I continued walking, and I worked on regulating my breaths before speaking.

"Stay here and watch him, make sure he doesn't find a way to get out," I ordered, "And kick his ass if you feel like it."

I barely paid attention to their reactions to my instructions, but I didn't have to look at them to know that Ambrose was overly hyped at the prospect of beating someone up, and that the other two were silently, nonverbally shutting him down.

"Where are you going?" Rollins inquired, furrowing his eyebrows.

To go out and look for the only thing that could possibly keep me sane right now.

We reached the end of the hallway, and I called for the elevator before turning to glance at Rollins.

"If I don't blow off some steam, I'm gonna commit a murder," I answered.

And it was mostly true, anyway. I probably was still gonna commit a murder, but my little field trip would hopefully postpone the event for at least a little while.

"I'll be back before morning," I added, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button for the garage level, "Don't let Ambrose do anything I wouldn't do."

~

"You are aware that this is borderline stalker behaviour, right?" Dallon's voice, full of disapproval, sounded over the speaker system in the SUV, "Actually, it's not even borderline. It is stalker behaviour."

"Right. Would you rather I exhibit murderous behaviour, then? 'Cause that's the only other option."

Dallon breathed out a sigh so loud it sent vibrations throughout the vehicle. I knew he was right, but he knew that I was right, too. So he proceeded to help me without anymore hassle.

"I calibrated the GPS system in the SUV to track the signal on her cellphone, but it's only programmed for five hours," he informed me; I could hear the faint clicks of his fingers against the keyboard.

A digital map materialised on the left side of the windscreen, showing me that I was about 50 miles out from New Mexico.

"That's all the time I need," I responded, glancing between the map and the desolate road ahead of me, "Thanks, Weekes."

"Anything for romance, bro."

With a roll of my eyes, I tapped the touch pad and hung up. I inhaled deeply and flexed my fingers, then curled them back around the steering wheel and cracked my neck.

My body was stiff, my muscles aching from lack of sleep and constant use; it made the long drive uncomfortable, but it was a small price to pay for the bliss of a stable state of mind.

That is, assuming that this'll actually work.

If it doesn't... well, then I'll be a dead man.

✧ ✧ ✧

A bar. Twenty-five minutes outside of the New Mexico desert.

Definitely not the first place I would've guessed her to be, but alright. Things have changed. It's understandable.

I parked the SUV a little way down the street, in the shadow between two streetlights. I sat for a moment, watching as the door to her car opened. The second I laid eyes on her, my heart stopped.

Pictures truly didn't do her justice; nothing could compare to seeing her, right there in front of me. I swallowed harshly, staring intently as he shuffled into the bar. Once she was out of sight, I got out of the car and followed in her path.

Fuck, Dallon was right. This is weird. And creepy. So fucking creepy. I'm actually disgusted with myself.

I stepped inside and my eyes were immediately drawn to her, sitting at the bar and raising a glass to her lips.

Yeah, scratch that. I don't give a shit. I can live with the stigmatism if it meant that-

"Fuck," I cursed under my breath, quickly stepping behind a group of people, shielding myself from her line of sight as she turned around.

Apparently, my unreliable-as-fuck consciousness had forgotten that people have the ability to sense when they're being watched, and that that sense is heightened tremendously if said people are S.H.I.E.L.D agents.

Fortunately, with the way I was positioned, I was able to see her, but she couldn't see me. That didn't mean that she didn't try, though. Her eyes swept over the room with a penetrating gaze, her brow creased as she tried to determine whether she'd imagined the feeling or not.

If I didn't feel like a stalker before, I definitely did now.

I hadn't realised that I had been holding my breath until she turned back around and I exhaled loudly. The group I'd been hiding behind all looked at me suspiciously, and I mumbled something resembling an apology before rushing for the back door.

Bursting out of the exit, I felt the sting of the cold night air against my flushed cheeks and let out another large exhale.

What the fuck are you doing, you fucking idiot?

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and ran my hand through my hair. My heart was pounding, and I wasn't sure if it was from seeing her, or from her almost seeing me.

An unhealthy combination of both, I suppose.

Even so, I still felt unbelievably better than I had felt during the ride here. It was amazing what just the sight of her could do to me. Seeing her - and more importantly, knowing that she was okay - was enough to straighten my jumbled mind and help me think clearly again.

She was all I needed.

And I was a fucking idiot to leave her.

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

Note: Wow wow wow I hate this. I hate it so much. And literally the only reason I'm posting it is because I already set it up in the book and I wasn't gonna leave it as a plot hole.