Partners In Crime

3 ~ Most Dangerous

With my head aching, I laid awake in the dark, my arm throbbing while my mind raced with endless unanswered questions.

Beyond these walls I was now one of the most wanted people in America. How did that happen over night? And how did they come to the conclusion that I was working with Michael when my job was at the museum?

Despite all the questions I knew for a fact Michael had answers for them. Not that he would tell me, so here I was...left to assume the worse. If he was going to kill me surely he would have done it by now?

Unless he just doesn't want to make a mess in the motel?

Fuck.

Tentatively, I pulled the covers back and swung my legs out of the bed, making sure to keep my arm as still as possible. I couldn't stand to be in this bedroom for one more minute. I didn't even know if Michael was outside the room. He hadn't let me leave the bed. Not only that but I was still in my security uniform, apparently some of the most uncomfortable clothes to ever exist.

Trying my best to quietly move through the room, I pushed the bedroom door open, the creaking sound going straight through me making me cringe.

Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing, I don't even think I was trying to run away I mean I should be, this would be the perfect time but I couldn't...

My eyes fell to the figure sprawled out on the couch, despite being asleep he still wore a frown, his lips slightly parted and his hand still, of course, resting on his gun.

I groaned in frustration at my inability to sleep. Although you could argue it was a pretty natural response to my current situation.

Taking one last look at Michael, I scoffed in disgust and turned on my heel, the old floorboards creating the most piercing creaking sound like nails down a blackboard.

My mouth was suddenly closed shut by a hand over it whilst my body was slammed into the wall, pain shooting up my arm causing my legs to grow weak. My scream came out muffled in his hand as the barrel of the gun stuck into the side of my head. The cold metal sending shivers over my skin.

Almost as quickly as it had come, his hand released me. I gasped for air, quickly turning around to be met with Michael's stern face. If he wasn't angry before he definitely was now.

"Don't fucking creep up on me!" He shook with anger. "Why can't you just stay in your room."

"I couldn't sleep!" I spat back at him. Immediately regretting it as he shot me another cold glare as I wiped my mouth with my sleeve.

"You're not a baby I'm not going to hold your hand if that's what you want." His body towered over me, which ironically really did make me feel like a baby.

"Stop putting a gun to me then! Maybe that's why I can't sleep knowing you're here."

Why can't I just stop talking. Here stands one of the most dangerous men and I can't control my anger for 5 minutes. How he hadn't killed me yet I don't know...

My feet felt like they were glued to the floor as he walked back over to the sofa and sat back down. His hands raking through his hair before he turned his head up. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want my fucking life back." My voice broke, turning away. I caught a glimpse of the door to the motel.

"You got yourself into this you should have just run when I gave you the chance."

Without even thinking I found myself sitting on the chair opposite him. His eyes widened and his frown deepened as he gave me snarl.

"What are you doing now?"