Chapter 6

How? How the fuck? How is he here, how is this possible? Even if I now know why - because he wanted to be closer. To just feel and hope he was close to me. But how could we run into each other so randomly? How could I get it in my head that what just happened happened?!

Am I nuts?

Luke has been looking for me all this time. This whole fucking time. He was looking when I was trying to settle into a new house and life, he was looking when I got myself a job. He was looking when I meet Spencer, and he was still looking... How could he have done that? How could he invest his entire self into looking for me after so long?

How could he do all that for me? How could one man bare the amount of pain he has?

Why didn't I stay longer? I should have. Screw Lynette. I should have; what if he doesn't meet me and he hates me like I think he should? Oh god....

With all these circulating thoughts, not to mention my blurry and wet eyes, it was a little hard to focus on the road ahead of me in the dark. From the moment I got my shaky self in the car after getting my bag from inside and reassuring the few people there that I was alright, I was on my way. But I wasn't calm in the slightest. If anything, that encounter with Luke shook me up more now as I tried letting it all sink in as I drove down road after road, lit by helpful street lights. At this point though, about maybe five minutes into driving, my eyelids spilled over and I was forced to lift a hand from the wheel and wipe them from my eyes, clearing my sight. Don't cry now. If anything, just don't do that. I knew I needed to focus, even if I realized I wouldn't fully be able to with my next thoughts. Because my next thoughts called for more attention even if my own emotions disagreed.

Jackson. The FBI... I knew I needed to shove aside the new shock and the fresh burn of seeing Luke - fucking Luke - tonight. I never felt so hurt, so guilty before after he told me all that. It was hard to fathom it and how he was looking this entire time. God damn. Just... damn! Each time my mind crossed that exact thought and the reason he was in Connecticut, my heart would succumb to the desire to burn internally and spread. I couldn't let that happen though. Not yet, not yet. I needed to get some answers. Ones to questions that pissed me off to the core. Like maybe how couldn't they have told him where I was?! And why lie and say they did tell me?! Jackson is a dead fucking uncle, ladies and gents.

He must have known this whole time. After all, he was the one that I pushed to ask the FBI to tell Luke where I was. He said he requested it and it was granted. He must have known. The FBI for certain. All those meeting throughout the three years.... They would come to talk to me and were full of reports of how Luke was doing. Saying he was fine, he was slowly moving, especially now with a new girl.... From the looks of it, he wasn't and didn't even have a chance too move on. If they weren't lying, they would have mentioned how desperate he was. Maybe how he was looking left and right for me. Did they leave that out to not make me worry? Or did they lie all together for anotther reason? Fuck, was this Katherine chick they mentioned even real? Why would they lie to me about all this stuff?

I was going to find out. And I was starting with the man that lived right across the street from me. It made me want to accelerate my car even more. I could feel the need to get to Jackson and face him pulse in my veins. It made me force my tears away as best as I could, shoving aside the shock of the matter and focusing on just getting home tonight. And when I did pull into my driveway, I was moving the second I stepped out of the car.

Jackson had something coming his way tonight but I knew he wasn't going anywhere and I could try and calm down a bit. Or just get what I needs to be done first then kick his ass. He wasn't leaving; he was sleeping by now probably. So it gave me a minute needed when I walked up from my car to my house, opened my door with the key, and stepped inside.

"Hey, buddy," I said in a sigh and not my usual excited voice I greet Jack with when he rushes to me at the door like he did this time. The house was dark, all except for a little plug in light I leave on for Jack and the illuminating moonlight of the vinyl floor of the kitchen I was now standing in. Looking down at Jack, his beady eyes on me in happiness, I laughed softly despite my crazy night and my need to get to Jackson's house. He jumped up and down against me, begging for my attention which I always give into. But this time, I needed to hurry before my head explodes.

I took Jack outside to go to the bathroom, brought him in, refilled his water and food dish, and ate a pickle because I was hungry just as I was heading back towards the front door. Because you guys can bet I wasted no time. Not to change my clothes or even try to settle down. I needed to face Jackson - right now.

Which is why I didn't waste anymore time when I left the house. Staring up at the starry sky and over the lawns of all the neighbors, the stillness was comforting. Hearing nothing but the soothing sounds of crickets comforted the fact that the night wasn't being polluted by people. Too bad I was about to raise hell.

I could feel it building in me, the need to get to the house across from mine and bang on his door, knowing it would be locked. My deep thoughts of the matter, anxiousness, and pain made me march quickly down my lawn, crossing the empty street, and walk up his driveway with purpose. I didn't slow a step as I stomped up his little porch to his front door. My steps were echoing beneath me on the cement as I took in a deep breath, my eyes glaring at his door. Whether he knew or not, I was assuming he did and it made me angry. Which led to what I did next. I started to heavily bang on his door. Loud, my fist full of power, with a demand for someone to answer - answer the door, my question, and answer me on the entire matter at hand.

I had to do it a number of times more and with a big window off the side of the house and the door, I noticed a light finally come on as I continued to pound on the door with no mercy. Scowling and just thinking about how they played me. About Jackson, how he lied to me for three fucking years. Lied to my face when I knew I deserved every ounce of truth this whole time, even if it would hurt. There had to be more to it. Why didn't they tell him? And why were they probably lying about the updates of him? Maybe I should have brought my gun....

My body was tense, muscles strained, and my eyes were glued to the door, even as I saw the lights flicker on. Not a moment later, I got what I have been thinking over from the time I got home. Responding to my hard pounding on the door, I saw the door whip open in anger. Standing before me, with the light behind him lighting up his features through the darkness of the night, I took him in with a deep scowl never breaking. I took him in and with him before me now... I was nearly shaking with hurt and anger.

For the first time, I saw his brown hair was a little messy and not slicked back. It didn't look wet like it usually does. More so, rather dry with locks actually hanging around his face and forehead, a little messier. Everything else about him though looked the same. Supporting long black shorts and a black tee-shirt, it sure lit up his glowing brown eyes that were staring daggers into mine. They were framed tight with how low his eyebrows were. He was sending me the look of death, extremely pissed off to see me being the one pounding on his door at this hour. And no doubt, my pissed off look aimed at him made him even more angry. And seeing him angry pissed me off even more too! This wasn't going to be good.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked me in a deep and slow voice, his jaw clearly tightening as he stared at me with intense eyes. Eyes that looked daring and very upset, even if he looked me over a bit with a tinge of worry; it wasn't there for long.

I was so upset. Just hearing Luke's words filter through my head just then, over and over, sent me over. Luke's cracked and dead voice. That poor man... because of this asshole.

My arms moved straight to my sides, in tight fists. I couldn't hold it back and I wanted to hurt him, even if just a little. Before I could think much else, I stepped forward and up into the frame of the door, closer to Jackson. But not a moment later, I acted. Seeing his confusion for a small split second, I knew it woudn't be there for long. I wanted him to hurt like he hurt me by not telling Luke. I wanted to hurt him for allowing Luke to go through unbearable pain. Because I had nothing to hurt him and paralyze him emotionally, I was set with getting the job done physically. I cocked my elbow back with my fist, turning my body back with it, and struck forward up towards his face.

I punched him in the face, the jaw, and with wide eyes, I watched him stumble back. He couldn't keep his balance and ended up backing up, trying to catch himself. But he couldn't do it before he hit the end table of this little entry room that branches right and left - into the living room and the kitchen on the right entrance. But in this little room, his back was pressed against the little table across from the door, his body hitting it making the lamp on it fall as he tried to steady himself. He clearly didn't expect that.

Standing there, breathing hard, I watched his hand move and catch himself against the table and press his other palm against the wall, steadying himself to his feet evenly. His eyes though, they never left me. He didn't even look as if that hurt him, even though I really did catch him off guard. But I didn't stop there. I stepped more inside of his house, slamming the door behind me. Watching him, he stood up straight and huffed in anger. It made my heart jump, watching him. How he towered over me when he stood up straight and ready to not let that happen again. But I was just as determined as he was.

Just as he started walking towards me, I moved the couple steps I sent him back and moved up closer to his face. Swallowing hard as I felt my throat turn thick, I tensed my body, just to just punch him again. With him staring down at me, waiting and ready for me to try something again, I knew I had his attention as he watched me. Not to mention how closely he would be listening now. "Who the fuck do you think you are?!" I hissed in a demand, moving my hands up to his chest swiftly and despite him being very strong, I tried pushing him back again. But this time, he didn't let that happen.

"Who.. the fuck... do you think you are?" he growled at me in a low voice, his eyes burning with so much anger in mine and he didn't hold it all back either. I felt his hands grip my arms hard and rip them away from where I tried to push him. He pushed my arms roughly back to my sides and didn't let them go from his tight grip. "You have one minute to talk or I will kick you out of my house," he told me, very gravely. And though we knew each other and were somewhat close I suppose, it didn't mean he wouldn't do it. Then again, I didn't really give a shit about his threats.

"No, buddy," I hissed up into his face, watching his scowl deepen and his eyes flare with anger, throwing my weight into where he was restraining me. "No. You have one minute to talk or I won't be talking or seeing you again or the fucking FBI for that matter!" I growled up at him. Though I didn't know if that could even be true, I would try to make it so if he didn't give me answers. Because with each second I didn't have them, I felt the hurt, the guilt, the not knowing build up in me more. I was that serious. It was also pretty clear in how deep my voice went after it broke with the build up within me.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in a hard voice, on edge and angry still.

I was about to keep the continuous pattern up of yelling. But when he asked, I felt my chest and heart falter in response. His words demanded an answer out of me first before I could get any out of him. And though I was mad, I knew he needed to know what I was talking about. He couldn't read my mind; I needed to tell him what I was talking about; how he needed to tell me about why he kept things from Luke. But if I revealed I knew that, that Luke didn't know anything, he would wonder how I could have known that. And I wasn't really in the mood of telling him I actually ran into and spoke to Luke. That would ruin everything. It would make the FBI move us again, try to get me away from Luke. Because if Luke is close, so is the risk of Reid's men finding me. Jackson couldn't know I spoke to Luke - and he couldn't know I planned on talking to him one more time too. He would drag my ass to another city the second he knew and I couldn't let that happen. Not yet anyway.

I said the first thing that came to my mind; the best excuse I could think of. I took a gamble. Because knowing Luke, he probably did what I was about to say to Jackson. "I know that you didn't get the word through to Luke like you said you did! I know you and the FBI have been lying to me. I know he never knew I was here and that I was really safe. I managed to find videos, articals online about him looking for me!" I could only hope there was shit out there like that. I figured Luke reached out through the news and media, even if for some reason I never did see it on the news. "You lied to me this whole time," I said, trying to push his hands from my arms in order to back away from him.

But upon hearing my words and staring into my heated eyes, he froze. I could feel his body change too and it was a strange sense that reached me. Of him going cold, frozen, and with the light coming from the other room, I saw he even looked as if he paled slightly at hearing me say that. His eyes never left mine as he stared down at me, his eyebrows raising at hearing my words. My breath was ridged - and the only sound I heard in the air with the silence creeping in like a whore. However, he was more calm and he only appeared confused. Appeared. After that silence and his paling face, he wore a dumbfounded expression. "Wait, you found articles and videos? Of him looking for you? Well wouldn't you think he did that even if we told him where you were...?" Jackson asked me in a slow voice, trying to get through to me on what he surely thought was an overreaction. He continued in the same level voice after that. "He is a crazy guy who wanted to find you, even if he knew you were in witness protection," he said, a little bit of anger fading from his words, body, and expression. But he still looked quite pissed off.

I didn't buy it. I didn't and I was shaking my head before he even finished talking. "No. I found shit that said he was desperate to find me, had no answers.... I know I was lied to. So stop pretending," I said to him, in my own low voice. I realized I had to have been right about assuming there was news and articles. Why haven't I ever seen any of it? Jackson didn't appear confused about that, about finding news articles. He looked more so confuse by the whole idea that they didn't tell Luke the truth. It didn't add up. "You're lying."

He shook his head, peering down into my eyes with a guarded expression. "Listen, I am telling you what I know. I went to the FBI, requested for them to tell your step-dad that you were safe and in witness protection, and they said it was granted. That's all I know," he stressed, staring deeply into my eyes to drive home his words. "I don't know what you read or found online. But I did tell them and they told me they granted your wish. I am going to have to say they are probably telling the truth too. I mean they have even been giving you updates on this guy. You probably just found stuff online that was over dramatized. He could have been looking and is hurt. But the FBI must have told him," he nodded, looking quite positive about it. "And if they didn't, well they didn't. But I did my job and asked for them to do it and they reported they did. If they lied, I don't know," he said, taking a deep breath and a pause. Shaking his head, he continued a second later as I tried to determine whether I could trust his words or not. "You really have some balls to come in here thinking I would lie when really, if you aren't crazy, it's the FBI. Why would I?" he asked, rolling his eyes and looking down with a scowl.

I looked over his face, and raised an eyebrow watching him. Could he be lying to me now? Maybe. Then again, he only worked for the FBI. What reason would he have to keeping news from Luke? I wasn't sure if I could trust what he was saying or not. But seeing him now, looking into his eyes when they finally met mine, I saw the truth in them seeping through or at least the even stare he was giving me that said he wasn't lying. It really must be the FBI. If anything, they had way more control than Jackson did. Jackson was just the delivery boy in a sense. He did his job. The FBI must have just lied to him back and said that they slipped Luke information when they didn't.

But I wasn't ready to put down my tough act. "Then why would the FBI do that?"

He sighed heavily, annoyed and raised his hand in indecision on the matter. "How am I suppose to know? They are all about keeping secrets to themselves - that's the FBI. If they did lie - if - then they probably just did so you would stop nagging or at least maybe get a little peace. But they probably did tell him to begin with."

Well they didn't....

Raising a hand up and rubbing the back of my neck under my bun, free from his grasp, I sighed and rolled my eyes too at the situation. Was he just covering his ass? At this point, my eyes on him and hearing his words... I doubted it.

"Well if it wasn't you, I want to have a little chat with the stupid FBI about this. Can you set up a date for me to talk?"

He scoffed and actually started to chuckle, despite him rubbing his jaw at where I punched him. "You serious? Set up a date? They are the FBI. They have scheduled appointments with you every few months and that alone makes you lucky. They don't usually do that. You think I will be able to get them to talk to you?" He rolled his eyes, and when I saw him stare at me, and he saw how determined my eyes were in his, he groaned and shook his head. "Jesus," he muttered and before I could say any more, he started walking off from this little room and through the kitchen entrance, leaving my sight and making me groan.

"You are a part of the FBI. You are here and working for them!" I said in distress, following him into the kitchen and throwing up my arms as I spoke again. "Are you stupid and forgot about that? Or did I punch you that hard?" I asked, watching him enter his kitchen and walk towards the fridge. Flicking a light on as he walked, it lit up his decent sized kitchen that had white cupboards and cold black and white tiled floors. It matched his personality really well. With the stove on the far side across from the kitchen entrance, beside the stove was more counter top of white until the stainless steal sink, fridge ajar to it on the wall on the left. Which he opened and instantly, he had a beer in his hand and was opening it.

"For your information, you caught me off guard and it wasn't that hard of a punch, my sweet pea of a niece," he sneered. "But that doesn't give you a fucking right to deck me in my house after rudely waking me, you child. Over something you were wrong about, might I add," he said, shaking his head with an annoyed expression.

"No, I'm not wrong. If it wasn't you, the FBI lied to me. I was still lied to."

He shook his head. "Believe what you want but I can't get you a meeting with them, for Christ sakes," he said, taking a swig of beer before he opened the fridge and handed me a beer. "You can have a beer but leave before I decide I want to punch you back," he mumbled, making me mirror his annoyed look.

"I can stay here as long as I want," I said, sighing unevenly. "I had a rough night if you couldn't tell, moron."

"Uh, so did I, asshole," he said back to me, shaking his head as he walked towards the entrance of the kitchen, walked through it to the entry way where the door was, and then walked through the entrance of the living room on the other side. Following behind him, cracking open the can and sipping some instantly, I watched him as he sat down in the brown and soft chair of his carpeted area in the room. I sat on the couch that was ajar to the chair and facing the TV in the corner of the room. Behind us and on the same wall of the entrance in here was the steps to his upstairs. "Tell me how you found these articles?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with interest as he drank some more, watching me carefully. Facing me, he rested an elbow on his knee while his other was busy helping him take a swig.

I internally sighed. I lied. I need to pay the price of making it up and that meant selling it with details. It's not like I could tell him the truth. I knew I never would have told him the truth anyway. Even with each drink I took that night, I stayed on course, saying that I was online, I looked up Luke's name, and found it. Simple as that. And though I did that before, strangely enough, nothing much came up before but I lied and said it magically did now. Which made him appear quite baffled.

We talked for a long time about this. I still didn't want to believe that he didn't know. I kept pushing him but he convinced me after a long while that it wasn't him that cheated me and Luke. I realized he really didn't. He kept saying he didn't but seeing how unnerved up it made him, seeing how calm he was, it convinced me he had nothing to do with lying to me and keeping shit away from Luke. And when I realized that, that I didn't have the source for answers I needed, it gave me reason to try to forget about it for the rest of the night, feeling how heavy that was weighing on me now. So the conversation moved to irrelevant topics that made me feel better as well as each beer I consumed. Everything seemed to fade as we started talking about other stuff. Drink, talk, drink, talk...

***

I didn't have a hangover. I didn't feel it that much. I did feel a little uneasy though. But if that was the case... then why don't I remember falling asleep here?

I expected to wake up in my own bed, in my own house, like I do every morning. But instead, I woke staring at the walls of a foreign room. It was the first sight when I opened my eyes: walls that were unrecognizable to me. Walls that were plain white and walls with larger windows than mine when I glanced over a little. Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I took that time to sit up and really try to understand where I was. And like always, after you wake up from sleeping, memories come back and recognition is triggered you didn't expect. Like last night. With Luke. Then with Jackson... I don't recall ever going home.

Besides that - remembering the craziness that happened last night - I also noticed something when I sat up slightly in the bed I was in, much softer than me, much bigger than mine at that too. Propping myself up on my elbows from where I was laying flat, my eyes moved over my surroundings that were lit by bright sunshine sifting through the open windows.

A black wooden dresser was the first thing I saw. It was right across from the bed on the far side where the windows were. And in the corner, there was a mounted TV, on an angle and facing the bed I was now laying in. A soft neutral color carpet matched the walls too, contrasted with the plain black comforter that I was propping myself up under. It didn't take that much else or any other details to tell me where I was but I took it all in as I had when I was here before. This is Jackson's room.

And once I realized that, it made me more curious to know how I wound up here. I was recalling all that happened last night and quickly passed over everything with Luke; I didn't want to think about it and become shook up. Instead, I focused on afterwards. On just coming over here. I knocked on Jackson's door, punched him, drank... but how much did I drink? It couldn't have been too much. The aftershocks weren't being felt this morning - but then how can't I remember how I got up here, in this dude's bed?

Taking in a deep breath, I let my eyes fall shut for a small moment as I raised one of the hands that were propping me, running it up through my hair. And it took me a second to realize that after I dragged my fingers up through my hair, that my hand didn't get caught on my bun like I am used to. My hair was out of it's bun, free and hanging down my back. It made me open my eyes a moment later in curiosity. No bun? Something else that was different was the fact that I wasn't wearing my shoes either like last night. But I couldn't believe the first rational explanation - that Jackson helped me into his bed and took off my shoes, undid my bun.... He wasn't the kind of person that would do that. In fact, I am pretty sure he is going to throw a fit.

By the time I got up out of his bed, still clad in my uniform, I felt a determination in me raise. And it was spiked from the scent I smelled when I opened up his door that was a couple feet to the right of the bed. It filtered thickly through the air, calling for me: breakfast. Yes, that heavenly smell of breakfast. A determination to inhale it's goodness ran over me. It also triggered my stomach to even growl when I stepped out of his room and into the tainted air. The scent of greasy bacon hit my nose as did the sweet smell of pancakes. Yes. Come to momma.

I moved down the carpeted steps, wanting the great smelling food I could sense calling me to it. But at the same time, I was cautious of Jackson. No doubt he would be pissed. One, of me waking him up last night. Two, me punching him in the face. Three, of me staying and drinking. Then four, sleeping in his bed. Yep. I could tell I must be a dead girl when I face him, which did tempt me to slow down my pace. Not to mention I was cautious of my own body. If I drank that much to not recall ending up in Jackson's bed, I should be feeling an uneasy stomach or a throbbing head just about now. But I needed to find the source of this smell!

Making my way down the steps and walking along the wall of the living room, I turned into the entry before entering the brightly lit kitchen. Where he was standing with his back to me, making breakfast. I would often come here just to have breakfast with him. Today felt a little different. Like I almost felt a little bad. What the hell was that about? I mean, for once, I actually had the urge to apologize to him - mostly because I recalled what he said last night. About him not knowing about Luke never getting the news I was safe. Meaning I punched him and was a burden for no reason.

Sighing softly, walking into the kitchen more, I took a seat at the table and yawned. Before I could say anything though, Jackson did. Who I noticed was dressed for the day at this point. In jeans and a very dark maroon muscle shirt, showing his muscles along his arms and back slightly. I also took note that his hair was glossy looking again, slicked back and in place unlike how it looked last night for a change. "How did you sleep?" he asked, his voice colliding with the sizzle of the bacon he was cooking. It was suffocating my senses.

His tone was normal, neutral, and as usual, a little negative sounding. But no more than usual. I raised a brow at his back. "I slept great," I said honestly. "But I was sleeping in your bed..."

"I know. You feel asleep on my couch. You're useless. Couldn't even get up and go home. Nope. You had to take my bed. Thanks," he said, shaking his head at me in an annoying tone that made me more curious than anything, his back still to me.

"If I fell asleep on the couch, why was I in your bed?"

He finally turned towards me, pointing the fork he was using to flip the bacon in my direction and scowled softly at me. He pointed the fork at me as if in accuastion, his eyebrows raising. Not to mention I even noticed his jaw looked a little swollon. But his words took my attention from it as did his eyes reaching mine. He looked calm but his expression besides that said he was pissed off. "Look, why is that the topic of discussion? I put you in my bed to sleep better. Big fucking deal. But you need to learn to get over your stupid step-dad. You see a fucking article online and come running at me and punching because you don't think he knew the information?" he shook his head, giving me a big eye roll before he turned back to the stove.

I was stuck on his first words for a moment. It sounded like he cared and put me in his bed, just so I could be more comfortable. But then again, that was probably why he changed the subject to something much more serious at the moment.

I took in a deep breath, watching him finish up the food and making himself a plate before I would do the same. Clearing my throat, I spoke up and asked him, "And you can't get me a meeting with the FBI anytime soon? I know you said you can't but know you have connection. I want to know why they didn't get the information through to him like they said they did." I needed to know why. Luke wouldn't lie and his raw eyes sure weren't lying last night either. It made me doubt the FBI's intentions. Even more, it made me wonder what really went down in the past three years with Luke's life.

"No I can't," he scoffed in a low mumbling voice. "You know I work for them but really, I don't have much control. I don't communicate with them as much as you probably imagine I do."

I wanted to know. Badly. That was the huge condition for me and since they lied that is something that is a big deal breaker folks. Even if I am three years in, it was based on lies and reassurances by the FBI. Why?

I wanted answers - and I will get them, one way or another. But upon seeing Jackson was powerless in the matter... it would have to wait as unfortunate as that sounds. Because despite needing answers why they let Luke suffer for three years, that was the past. And tonight was something that counted too deeply to me. Tonight. Me and him again. This time, we could have more time too. My heart was already racing with anticipation of seeing those pretty eyes again and to hear his voice again. Lord only knows how tonight is going to turn out.

***

As employees, we always had access to our basement. We each had a key for special purposes such as an extra bathroom that was located down here in the basement for use. Plus, if our storage room was filled up, we would use this. But really, that happened rarely. If anything, all that really happens down here is repairs when needed for upstairs purposes. Meaning, nobody was ever really down here. The same went for the basement next door at the restaurant Express. According to the employees there, they rarely ever used it too. Which was why it was the perfect way to meet Luke.

He was to come down through the Express basement door where I would already be since there is a tunnel connecting Seymour's and Express like I explained to Luke last night. Which is where I was walking down now. It was actually very convenient to meet this way. If by the off chance those guys working for Reid are watching, all it would look like is Luke is having dinner at the Express and a girl he isn't even talking to is working her shift at Seymour's. And to not raise a search party on my behalf, I didn't drive to work. I walked. After all, I am staying here after my shift and people didn't need to know that. I didn't want them seeing my car here. They would assume I was around here somewhere. It wasn't a far walk but far enough for this summer heat.

Of course, I could be thankful for how it felt down here, nice and cool. It was a little eerie actually as I closed the door from Seymour's basement to the tunnel I was now standing in. And despite it looking creeping with how dark it was besides my little flashlight I held, I was excited and on edge for a much better reason. This whole day... this was all I could look forward to. Going down this creepy as fuck tunnel to the basement next door to meet Luke. The idea of seeing him again was shocking and amazing and scary all at once and I felt that all day. The whole evening I was shaking with excitement as I worked. It was still a push like it always is to act as peppy and cheerful towards my costumers. But I couldn't help but find it to be easier, even if watching the clock drag on and on as slow as fucking possible.

And finally, that time came to where I was now. Nobody knew I was here and nobody would know besides the man meeting me down here by entering through the other restaurant. I had a little bit of time but I didn't waste a damn second despite how low the tunnel seemed and how I couldn't see much besides what my light could illuminate. I walked along the roughly and uneven cemented ground for a good couple yards until the end was already in sight. In the form of a door that barely ever opens. After all, these restaurants weren't owned by the same person anymore. They were two separate businesses competing and there was no reason to have a way to each place from the other. Which had to be why it took several minutes to coax the door to open.

"Come on you son of a bitch," I breathed under my breath, holding the flashlight under my armpit as I was pressed right up against the door that would allow me into Express's basement. The hard door that is rarely used refused to budge, even as I turned the doorknob and pushed my body into it, hoping my body weight could help.

Surrounded in the cement tunnel, it didn't help that I was feeling as hot as it was down here. I kept turning the handle, staring down at it with demanding eyes. Christ... nothing ever works out, does it? Luke would be coming soon and I needed to get on the other side of this door. After all, Luke wasn't an employee and wouldn't have access to their basement door. I would have to open it from the inside where I would be waiting. Now, if this fucking door would just open....

I pressed my side against the door, groaning. I felt useless against this stuck door. But this time, with force, I turned the handle and threw my body into the door harder, finally making it fly open. It wasn't that great of an entry into the dark and dank room but I was in, no thanks to the cement that kept the door tightly in place before.

I was in Express's basement. It was similar in structure to Seymour's. But this place has a ton of shelves and barrels too filled with who knows what. This was clearly their storage place too. It held extra tables and chair for their main room upstairs and held decorations such as for Christmas. Of course, I only saw all this upon entering with a flashlight as my guide. When I walked along the basement floors, I allowed my flashlight to the ceiling, looking for some type of light to turn on and like I knew there was, there was a light bulb with a chain hanging down.

And when I turned that light on, not only were other items in here but I noticed some other things. Like the stairs that were on the far left cement wall of the basement. They climbed straight up to the door that was on the main level of this restaurant. My eyes searched the wooden door, light coming in from under it too. That and the light bulb allowed me to turn off the flashlight I was still holding, and tuck it into one of the pockets along my apron.

I didn't waist another second though. The door held me up and Luke was probably here already and waiting. Taking a shaky breath, anticipating Luke coming in after I unlock it soon after, I could feel it hit me. It put my stomach in knots as I climbed up the steps with no hesitation towards the door. And with me on the inside and able to unlock it, that's exactly what I did when I reached that door. I unlocked it and before I could even wait for him to come, I felt the door open not a few seconds later.

Just after I unlocked it, I jumped slightly at seeing him open it. And when he did, it brightened the dim lit room. But all I noticed when that door opened was him. Him. It felt like it hit me all over again like last night.

He stepped inside instantly, not wanting to get caught from anyone working at Express, and quickly he shut the door as we stood together on the top step. I could still see him perfectly, even with just the dim light of the bulb. It made my heart race and jump, made me shiver as I stared up at him where we were facing each other. Just as beautiful, just as enticed, and just as hurt as I saw he was last night. His jade lit up the room as he pierced my eyes with it.

I watched him swallow shallowly, and in a shaky voice, he was the first to speak. "Hi," he breathed in greeting.

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I tried writing it in a way that complemented the writing more than usual! So tell me what you think :)