A Reunion of Lips

XIII

"We gotta go fast," Mitch whispered over the sound of the shower. "Like, tonight at the latest."

Cleo nodded. "Yeah, yeah—okay."

"You know how to get to your safe house from here?"

"I don't know how to from the Manor, but if we can get to the west elevator, I can find it from there."

"Okay, then we go at sunset. Are you gonna be okay with the jump? Once the window's out, we have to run."

Cleo looked very unsure, but she nodded again. "I'm gonna have to be, aren't I?"

Mitch shrugged. "You don't have much of a choice if we're gonna do this."

A few hours that felt like days later, Mitch stood in front of the window, worming the key pinched between his fingers into a small, chiseled dent in the glass he had slowly worked on creating.

"Exhale on the swing. Don't hesitate, just do it hard."

Cleo looked like she was shaking slightly, although Mitch couldn't tell if it was from nerves or excitement. She'd been stuck in this room for six weeks, four of which she'd been alone for. He himself was insanely terrified, but he was doing his best to at least look calm for Cleo. 

They'd been given changes of clothes through the flap a few times, but Mitch was never offered shoes. Cleo had sneakers tucked under the bed from when she'd been first kidnapped, but Mitch was aware that he had nothing on his feet but thin socks. He was tempted to pull them off so he could be less concerned about slipping, but Cleo was about to smash a window that he was standing next to.

Cleo lifted the toilet lid (they'd been able to unscrew it and wrap it in towels to keep the key from chipping it) and looked at Mitch for the signal. Mitch nodded and she took a deep breath, then swung as hard as she could.

It was a clean hit, punching a small hole in the glass where the key had been wedged seconds ago. Mitch grabbed the lid from her and smashed it through the hole, watching with satisfaction as the glass fractured and fell away at their feet.

Cleo bounced on her toes and stepped over the glass to the window. She looked at Mitch with wide, terrified eyes, but all it took from him was a "Go" for her to push herself over the ledge and drop to the ground. She didn't scream—good job—and she stuck her landing well. She took off towards the edge of the lawn where the Manor property met the park tree line. Mitch pulled the towel off the lid on the ground and laid it over the window ledge so he could swing himself over the gap without moving his feet around in the glass.

He hit the ground hard, but only gave himself enough time to ensure that he hadn't twisted an ankle or something before he was sprinting after the distant figure far in front of him.

Now, to make sure she didn't ditch him in case she still suspected he could be a spy.

He followed as close as he could through the dark forest, doing his best not to trip on any twigs or impale himself on any branches. She was moving a bit faster than him in her sneakers, but he had longer legs, so his pace was enough to trail her without getting lost. The adrenaline was starting to fade as he pumped his arms, and the pain in his feet from running in socks was starting to become more present. He did his best to ignore it, but by the time they found their way out of the forest, he was almost limping.

Cleo was waiting for him in an alley once they cleared the tree line. "We have to stick to the back alleys if we want to go unnoticed."

Mitch leaned against the wall to catch his breath. "I fucking hate running."