CONFESSIONS
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Mitch's fist collided with the punching bag again and again. He saw Angeline's father. He saw Mr Williams and his daughter too. Sweat trickled from his hairline, the top of his shaggy hair tied back in the shortest, most pathetic ponytail he could manage to keep it out of his eyes. His muscles burned and his knuckles pleaded with him for a break, but Mitch only grew faster – until eventually, he snapped.

"Fuck!" He yelled, giving it one last final slam before he staggered backwards.

He sat down, his back against the wall, his head thrown back as he panted. Mitch tugged the small hair band out of his hair and tossed it somewhere across the gym room, yanking his water bottle up next. The water trickling down his throat felt like the biggest relief, and yet he was still so angry at himself for not being able to do more.

He wanted to punch harder, throw them faster. To be better at his job.

He wished he had been there for Angeline.

For the past three days, Mitch had been forced to watch Angeline wander around the house like a ghost. Her skin pale, her eyes void of the mischievous twinkle they usually carried. She couldn't stomach full meals, her hands trembled, the smallest things could trigger her into bursts of tears. That made her hate herself more – Mitch knew how much she hated crying.

God, he wanted to wipe her tears and kiss her forehead and promise her she would be okay one day. However, Mitch knew the truth. Things like this never went away with time, no matter what therapists and friends reassured you. It would stay with you in the scars you wore on your body, infest your mind and eat away at your happiest of memories. Some days would be easier than others, but it was something she would have to live and deal with.

He thanked everything that her friends had been okay. The news had been like the greatest relief to Angeline, but it only seemed to soothe things for so long.

He grabbed his towel and swiped his forehead with it – then rubbed it against his hair, ridding it of all of his disgusting sweat. Mitch wasn't sure how long he had been in the gym room for, but when he left, the window in the corridor had sunlight pouring through it.

He went to the bathroom and took a long shower. Mitch dressed in joggers and a black shirt, and he finally took a razor to his face, ridding his skin of the messy facial hair he had grown recently. He took so much off that his skin was suddenly smoother than before – he looked young again. Truthfully, he hated looking at himself like this. He looked nineteen again, like he did when his family had been murdered. He was just fed up with all of the hair, and he couldn't find the right clipper for a close shave.

Mitch moved into the kitchen, freezing when he saw a figure sat at the bar stool. Angeline had a pair of earphones in, his iPod resting beside her cereal bowl as she slowly ate. She hadn't noticed him yet, but he saw the red circles around her eyes – sore from all of the crying she had been doing. Her baggy shirt looked baggier than ever. Angeline looked defeated, and yet this was a huge step forwards – she was out of her room without being forced out.

Her eyes flickered up when she noticed him. She tore the earphones out of her ears and sent him a tiny apologetic smile.

"Sorry," she said, pushing his iPod forwards a little. "It was just lying out."

"You can use it," Mitch said. "I don't mind."

"No, it's fi –"

"What were you listening to?" Mitch cut her off, grabbing his own bowl out of the cupboard. He began to pour himself some cereal too.

Angeline cleared her throat, clicking the tiny device on. "You have a couple of Arctic Monkeys albums on there. Just those."

"Ah."

Mitch put some milk in with his cereal and then placed the carton back into the fridge. He grabbed a spoon from the drawer and untucked the chair opposite Angeline, sliding onto it. Angeline seemed slightly surprised, but she didn't say anything.

There had been numerous times before where Mitch had wanted Angeline to keep quiet or to just shut up altogether, but this was borderline painful. He found himself actually missing her rambles and her sarcastic commentary.

"You shaved your face," she finally said.

"Oh, yeah," Mitch replied, his hand instinctively running down his jaw. "I couldn't be bothered with it. Got rid of it all for now."

Angeline couldn't help thinking that he looked younger – more her age now. There was barely an age difference there anyway, but now you wouldn't be able to tell at all. She quite liked him with a smooth face. She hadn't realised his jaw was home to a constellation of moles. They almost brought out the honey of his hazel eyes and emphasised how long his eyelashes were.

"Mitch..." Angeline hesitated, causing him to glance up at her. "Do you think... Have you heard anything about my father yet? Has anything happened yet?"

Mitch placed his spoon down in his bowl, giving her his full attention. "The CIA found coordinates to all of the bombs in Williams' apartment after we'd gotten you back. They managed to dismantle the last one at about three last night, actually."

Angeline released a small breath of relief. No more innocent people would be losing their lives thanks to her father's money-obsessed ways.

"And him? Did they arrest him?"

"He plans on taking a private jet tonight. My superior said they're cornering him at the airport. He won't expect it," Mitch replied. "I'll be staying here."

"Oh."

"What?" His brows furrowed.

"I just..." Angeline shook her head, swallowing thickly. "I don't know. I thought it would end... bigger."

"Bigger?"

"Like the films or the books. The bad guy never goes down easily. They're not cornered at airports. There's always, like, a final battle."

Mitch scoffed, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards into a slight amused smile. "You think there should be a final battle?"

Angeline felt her cheeks heat up. "You know what I mean."

"I do," Mitch replied, "But luckily this is real life. The CIA will try and arrest him as peacefully as possible so news doesn't get out about what almost happened."

"Does stuff like this happen a lot, then?" Angeline asked curiously. "Stuff that doesn't reach the news?"

"More often than you'd think," Mitch said.

There was a heavy silence.

"What will happen to me after this?"

She dreaded his answer.

"Er." Mitch scratched the back of his neck. "I'll probably take a break for a few weeks, and you..." He pursed his lips. "Well, you're eighteen, Angeline. It's up to you. You could stay where you are, or you could go back to your mother."

Everything suddenly felt dark and dreary. Angeline didn't know what she was expecting – for this to last forever? She'd grown so attached to Mitch and the idea of him always being around her, but starting from tomorrow, it looked like they would be going back to complete strangers.

Her heart felt incredibly heavy.

She pushed her half-empty cereal bowl away from her, finished with it.

"I suppose I will have to think about it," Angeline murmured, her voice quiet. "I, er, don't think I'll be able to afford it in Fair Hill. I can't stay in that house anyway."

"Your father will most likely be serving life or be given the death sentence," Mitch told her. "You would inherit his money, if you're in his will. Well, even if you're not, find yourself a lawyer and you could sue him for everything he's got."

Angeline felt slightly overwhelmed by all of the possibilities. She shook her head. "I don't want his money."

She wanted to go to university, get a degree in Clinical Psychology, to help people, and to earn her own money. When she left for college, the plan was always to cut herself off from her father and her brother completely. However, now, her life had been flipped upside down and she couldn't picture herself at university anymore. She couldn't see herself drinking at college parties or staying up and talking with her roommate, or smiling and laughing and dancing like she used to.

"Do you have an idea of what you want?" Mitch asked her.

Angeline stilled for a moment. "No," she breathed. "No idea. Yet, like, a month ago, I have everything planned out so perfectly."

"You don't have to have everything perfectly planned out right now," Mitch reassured her. "Just focus on your wellbeing right now."

...

Angeline finished cleaning the gauze wrapped around her forearm and slipped on a large black jumper. She glanced out at the rain, thinking about how much she thought she had despised it. Now, it reminded her of London. Looking out the glass doors at the grassy garden and tall trees, she felt like she was in her old house back when her parents were together.

She slipped open the door and stepped out. Immediately, her hair and clothes were drenched. Everything stuck to her, drops trickling off the slope of her nose and down her jaw. Angeline went to stand in the middle of the garden and looked up at the grey clouds. Not a single bit of sky peaked through.

"Angeline!" Mitch called over the rain, standing in the safety of the warmth by the door. "Come back inside."

"No," Angeline replied. "I'm fine."

She heard a loud huff as she turned her back and the door closed. Angeline couldn't help but wonder if he would be relieved to get rid of her tomorrow. She would miss him, and yet he would probably be thankful to get through the day without a headache from a whiny teenager.

"I thought you hated the rain."

Mitch's voice right behind her made her jump. She glanced over her shoulder. When the door had shut, she thought he had gone back inside and left her to her own devices.

"I do," Angeline admitted.

"Then stop punishing yourself," Mitch murmured and placed a large hand on her shoulder. "Come back inside."

Angeline stared at him for a few moments and felt so hurt inside. Whenever Angeline wanted someone, she got them. She had guys begging her to dance with them at parties, people patting the empty seat beside them when she walked into a classroom. If Angeline wanted a guy, all she had to do was bat her eyelashes and they would come over to her.

And yet here Mitch Rapp was, the first person Angeline had ever really wanted, and he wouldn't be with her.

There must be something wrong with her. Did her bad relationship with her father and brother mean that she'd fall for any guy that took care of her properly? Because right now, as he stood there with all of the concern in the world shining in his eyes, all she could think about was how romantic it would be to kiss him in the rain. How nice his hands would feel on her waist, and how she craved to have hers in his hair.

"Come on," Mitch whispered after a few moments. "You need to warm up."

Angeline didn't try to argue with him. Once she was showered and dried, she found Mitch making dinner in the kitchen. Time was slipping away so quickly. She wondered if she should just confess how she had been feeling or not. He might not care, but she didn't think she'd be able to live with herself if she never told him and he disappeared out of her life completely.

"What are you making?"

"Food."

"Ha ha," Angeline replied sarcastically, taking a seat at the breakfast bar to watch him chop up some onions. "What is it?"

"Tomato pasta. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

There was a long silence yet again. Angeline's hand fidgeted with the iPod that was still left out on the side from breakfast.

"It will be weird... won't it?" She attempted, clearing her throat. "Not seeing each other, I mean."

"At first," Mitch agreed. "But things will go back to normal."

Angeline felt her heart sink a little and then shook her head. "Not really. Not for me. I think I made my mind up. I think I'm going to go back to London."

Mitch stopped cutting for a second. "You are?" He asked without looking up.

"Yeah," she exhaled shakily. "I think it's what's best for me."

"I thought you hated it there."

"I can learn to love it again," Angeline replied solemnly. "I have Ciara and Paige here, but that's it. They're going to college soon anyway. I have my mother over there. I know I'm eighteen or whatever, but... I'm not ready to be on my own yet."

"Reasonable," Mitch murmured.

"Can I ask you something?" Angeline managed to spit it out whilst she had a surge of adrenaline, however, as soon as Mitch glanced back up at her seriously, she felt all of her confidence dwindle.

"Yeah?"

She panicked for a brief moment. "How do you chop onions without your eyes tearing up? I can't do it."

Mitch raised his eyebrows. A glint of amusement flashed through his hazel eyes.

"Sometimes they do make my eyes water," Mitch replied, "This one is fine."

"Oh."

Fuck. She would spit it out, but she couldn't handle rejection. Not on top of everything else.

"Can I ask you something, Angeline?" Mitch said, much to her surprise.

"Um, sure."

"What did you really mean to ask me?" Mitch said casually, turning to wash his hands in the sink. "You know, before you freaked out and asked that strange question about onions."

Angeline rolled her eyes. "That was it. Seriously."

"Oh come on." Mitch's smile took her by surprise. "You're a weirdo, Angeline Lewis, but you're not that weird."

"It doesn't matter," Angeline said. "It was nothing."

"If you're sure," he replied simply and turned back to what he was doing.

She rolled her eyes behind his back. Mitch never made anything easy. Everything was so complicated and difficult with him. Why couldn't he just make this smoother? Why couldn't he be the one to make the first move?

Because he doesn't want to.

"Why are you burning holes into the table?"

Mitch's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. He had sliced open the bag of pasta and now watched her, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

"Because – Because –" Angeline fumbled, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Fuck, Mitch. Is it not completely obvious?"

Mitch's face hardened. "Is what not obvious?"

She knew what he was doing. He was daring her. Luckily for him, that was all she needed to be pushed over the edge.

"You know exactly what that kiss was about the other day!" Angeline cried, slipping off the barstool and heading around so she could stand in front of him. " I can't just ignore it like you clearly can. And you can call me stupid again all you want, but it changes absolutely nothing. I don't want to feel like this – I just do. It's not some – some stupid distraction, or because I feel obligated. You know why."

Mitch exhaled loudly through his nose. "Angeline, do you remember what I said to you after we had sex?"

She stilled.

"Well?" Mitch asked. "Do you?"

"I do," Angeline swallowed. "But things have changed."

"You lied to me."

"Didn't you?" Angeline asked him desperately, feeling her heart practically smash against her ribs.

Mitch didn't say anything for a moment. "It's not right."

"What isn't?" Angeline breathed, moving closer towards him. "What isn't right?"

Again, he was quiet. "Feeling things for one another," he whispered. "It's not okay."

"But why?" The dark-haired girl pleaded. "Why not, Mitch?"

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "For so many reasons, Angeline. The first being the fact that I am an assassin, a trained killer, and you – you're just starting adulthood. You have so much to look forward to."

Angeline grabbed his large hand before he could run it through his hair. She gripped his fingers tight, squeezing them.

"You are worthy of being cared for," Angeline hissed to him, her eyes swimming. "Mitch, you deserve –"

"Don't." Mitch pushed her away. "Please, Angeline. Don't make this harder than it has to be. Tomorrow, we will go our separate ways and we can both act like nothing ever happened between us."

"It's too late for me to pretend that nothing ever happened," Angeline dismissed his words. "Mitch, if you were anybody else, I wouldn't stand here and beg you to see differently. I'm not a desperate person, and I – I'm not normally the one doing the confessing. But it's different with you."

His jaw was clenched. "Stop. No. Don't fucking say it, Angeline. I won't say it back."

She choked a little bit, shaking her head. "Why? Because you don't feel it or because you can't?"

Mitch stared at her – hard. "I don't love anyone, Angeline. And you don't love me. You're just confused."

"Fine then," Angeline finally snapped. "Okay. I get it. I'm crazy, and you're an arsehole."

"Angeline –"

"I'm not –" She wiped her eyes. "-- I'm not confused. Don't tell me I'm confused. Don't say I'm delusional or that I don't know anything or that I'm just some pathetic little girl. I'm not. There is no way I was confused when I was tied to that fucking chair, and they told me everybody I loved was dead, and yet you were the one I thought of the most. And I wasn't confused when I ran to call that ambulance for you and risked everything, or when I let you bathe Zimmerman's blood off of me and clean my scars and see me at my most vulnerable points. My head was fucking clear when I realised I had fallen in love with you, Mitch Rapp. In fact, that was when everything started to make fucking sense!"

Before she could go to continue – Angeline always had a lot to say – hands grabbed her waist and she was yanked forwards into a kiss. She gasped against Mitch's mouth, feeling his tongue lap hers, his hands grip her tighter. Angeline's hands moved to his hair as their lips moved passionately.

She tore away, holding his shirt to keep him at arm's distance away from her. "Don't kiss me if you're not going to say something afterwards. I'm done with the meaningless hookups."

"Angel, stay quiet for just a moment," Mitch murmured, "And let me... let me try. I'm not good with my words. I... I tried everything not to feel the way I do, but you made it pretty damn impossible."

Angeline felt her tight grip on his shirt loosen, her brown eyes hopeful. "And how is it that you feel?" She whispered, terrified.

"I... Fuck." Mitch scrunched his eyes up for a moment and managed to force it out in a choked voice.

"I think I fell in love with you, Angeline."

...
don't wanna alarm anyone, but crybaby is nearly finished. thanks for all of your kind words in the last chapter, i really appreciated your warm welcome backs. i'll try and stay consistent as i end this. i am at uni now and i do have a really important essay due in soon (as well as a draco fic that's coming to an end too) so please don't be too alarmed if there's a bit of a wait!

thanks so much for reading <333

word count: 3.2k

dyiansobrien.