I exhale all of the air out of my lungs, and then some. My mouth is suddenly dry as I try to swallow. “Go with you where?” I ask, my voice breaking.
“I’ll tell you when we get there?” He says, phrasing it as a question. Without even stopping to consider the consequences, I unfold my arms and legs and join him at the door. Michael’s eyes glance over me in appreciation; he looks slightly awed.
“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
“Nothing,” he shakes his head slowly. “You just… people don’t usually stick with me.” Before I can even process his statement, he is gently pulling on my arm and leading me out the door.
I am unreasonably nervous as we silently make our way out of the building. But then again, is it really unreasonable? Who knows what Michael is about to lead me into? But I am able to stay somewhat relaxed, due to his relaxed manner. He is calm, and that seems to ease some of my own nerves as I clamber into his car and buckle my seatbelt. Suddenly I can’t seem to figure out what to do with my hands.
“Why are you so nervous?” Michael chuckles, noticing.
“I feel like we’re on a spy mission or something,” I say, my cheeks flushing.
“We kind of are,” Michael says thoughtfully. I almost ask him to elaborate, but I know that he will only complicate things and confuse me further. Instead I remain silent, watching the lights go by on the freeway. Michael takes an exit to an unfamiliar town, pulling into a dodgy looking McDonalds parking lot. I glance at him, confused.
“Pit stop,” he refrains from laughing. For a moment I think we are getting out, but the car door opens behind me and two people slide in. I jump a little in my seat when the cold air hits me, but I turn around.
Luke looks almost as surprised to see me as I am to see him, and the dark haired, olive-toned boy beside him doesn’t even look at me.
“You brought her?” Luke says haughtily, turning his attention to Michael. I flinch a little. Ouch. Okay. Luke turns his eyes back to me, his gaze apologetic.
“She needs to be in the know,” Michael shrugs, easing the car into drive once more. What the hell is going on? None of them elaborate, but I do not intend on letting it go.
“Hello,” I say somewhat coolly to the new man that I don’t know. His eyes flicker to mine with an annoyed expression, and then he looks down at a small tablet in his lap without acknowledging me. “Nice to meet you, too,” I grumble, rolling my eyes and turning around.
Michael chuckles and takes my hand. “Don’t worry about it, babe,” he reassures me. “Calum hates everyone.” He says it loudly, so that everyone can hear. I glance back at Calum, who doesn’t even look up at the mention of his name.
“I do not hate everyone,” he says, never taking his eyes off the screen of his tablet. “I just don’t like to be bothered while I’m working.”
“What are you working on?” I can’t help myself from asking. Calum looks up at me with the same annoyed expression. He looks pointedly at Luke. “Inform her,” he gestures at me. His gaze returns to the tablet and I roll my eyes. Inform her. Maybe we are on a spy mission.
Luke is attempting not to appear too amused, to no avail. He looks at Michael before he looks at me. “What can I tell her?” He asks.
“Everything,” Michael mumbles. Everything? Oh my.
“You sure?” Luke asks, raising his eyebrows. I scoff at him. Don’t ruin this for me, Luke.
“Yes, Lucas, I’m sure,” Michael sighs.
“Where do… how do I even start?” Luke looks genuinely lost.
“Start with where we’re going,” Michael suggests. Their conversation has me reeling, not only from the possibilities of the answers I’m about to get, but because they are having a genuine conversation and not trying to fight each other.
“Okay,” Luke sighs heavily, shaking his head. “We’re—I don’t want to do this,” he says.
“What?” Michael snaps.
“I don’t want to drag Kate into this, don’t you think it’s dangerous for her?”
“She’s already-"
“Do I get a say in this?” I interrupt them both. Luke glares at me. “Tell me,” I command him softly.
“Kate…”
“Tell me,” I say through my teeth.
“We’re going to Michael’s parent’s house.” The voice does not come from the concerned blonde boy, but from the irritated dark haired one with his face buried in a screen. Luke slumps his shoulders in defeat.
“Okay…” I say slowly, not understanding the big deal.
“Not the parents you’re thinking of,” Calum calls me out without even looking up. “The other ones.”
“The…”
“The real ones,” he supplies, finally looking up at me. He has a satisfied smirk on his face, and I dislike him even more than I did ten seconds ago.
“Calum,” Michael huffs. “Don’t be a dick.”
“I’m confused,” I say, holding both of my hands in the air. I turn to Michael, knowing that he is the only one who can clear this up for me fully.
“We think,” he throws a glare over his shoulder at Calum, “that we’ve found the place where my birth parents are living,” Michael says. His voice remains steady but I can feel the anxiety and fear radiating off of him.
“We,” Calum scoffs.
“By we I mean Calum and Luke, funded by me,” Michael smirks.
“Much better, Clifford,” Calum smiles for the first time. “Now you’re going to take a right at this light. Then hang another right at the stop sign, followed by two lefts and another right. Then-“
“Slow the fuck down!” Michael calls him off. Silence falls in the car, only broken every so often when Calum calls out a direction. Eventually we pull onto a street lined with houses—no, mansions—and Calum instructs Michael to stop. As Michael pulls over to the side of the road, his face holds disbelief and anger, and I can’t even begin to understand why.
“Turn of the headlights and put the car in neutral,” Calum whispers. Michael does as he’s told, and the car creeps down the dark street. All the lights inside are off too; we are practically invisible in the night. “Stop,” Calum instructs softly. Michael cuts the engine completely, and the air inside the car is suddenly thick with tension. “It’s the one on the right,” Calum whispers.
Every head turns to the right, towards a house nearly the size of Michael’s parents’. His adoptive parents. Without a warning, Michael bangs his hand on the steering wheel. “Fuck!” He yells.
“Michael,” Luke hisses. “Not here.”
“It doesn’t make any fucking sense!” Michael whisper-yells. “We got it wrong again!”
“We,” Calum scoffs again.
“Shut the fuck up, Calum! Just shut up!” Michael’s hand runs over his hair and I think he might try to physically pull it out in frustration.
“I don’t think you got it wrong,” I whisper.
“Why not?” Calum asks, challenging me.
I point to a figure who appears to be approaching the large gates of the home, not even sparing a second glance our way. “Because I think that’s Ashton.”
