𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤

25⇢disclosures

JAMIE

Sam and I quietly sit next to each other on the subway, making our way to Manhattan.

We spent a few days tracking Voltar and making sure we had the right location. But after every night and every morning, she always went back to the orphanage.

Sam's hand is intertwined with mine as we ride the train to the neighboring city, but my mind is filled with Sam's words from days ago.

He said he loved me. Loves me.

Do I love him? What even is love? I looked it up on Google yesterday and found a bunch of different results.

Love means putting someone else's needs before your own. Love is an intense feeling of deep affection. Love is affection and care without any insecurity.

Do I love Sam? Yes. So much. Am I ready to admit that to him or myself? Not really, no.

Affection and care without any insecurity. I can't be afraid to admit my feelings. But I don't know when to tell him. When will the right moment come?

I also read on Google that there is no right moment.

I feel a squeeze on my hand, and I look up to meet Sam's gaze as he smiles at me. "Sam?"

"Hmm?"

There is no right moment. "I—"

"This is Grand Central, 42nd street. Transfer is available for the four, five, six, and seven trains. Connection is available to Metro-North," the speaker announces, cutting me off, and the train slowly pulls to a stop.

Okay, but maybe there is a wrong moment.

The doors open as Sam and I stand, and by my hand, Sam tugs me out of the tube, up the stairs, and onto the street. He pulls me down the sidewalk, dodging random citizens as he trudges through.

"It shouldn't be much farther," he calls out, and my eyebrows furrow at the setting surrounding us.

"Sam." He stops, pulling me into an alleyway out of traffic. "You never told me the orphanage was in Midtown."

"So?"

"So it's one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Manhattan. Why would Voltar camp out here? Why not upstate where there's more privacy?"

Sam holds me by my shoulders. "Jamie. It's not our job to wonder about Voltar's estate choices. Our job is to get inside, destroy the bomb, and get out."

"You make it sound so easy," I mutter, causing him to chuckle.

"We'll be okay. I'll protect you; I promise."

"But who will protect you?" He smiles at my words, cupping my face in his hands.

"We'll protect each other." He presses a gentle kiss to my lips before pulling away. "Come on. The sooner we find it, the sooner we can get this over with."

I grumble under my breath a list of profanities as Sam chuckles, pulling me out of the alley and down the street. It takes quite a while before Sam pulls to a stop in front of an old building.

"Here it is," Sam mumbles, and I take a gander at the building.

Everything is brown, grey, and black. The hinges of the front door—which is wide open—are barely hanging off the wood. The shutters are old, and they, too, hang off of just the hinges. The whole building looks like it hasn't been touched in years.

There's no way Voltar made a home out of this place.

Sam spares me a look before stepping towards the house, but I pull him back, my eyes widened. "What are you doing?