𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | mitch rapp

21. hate you too

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

hate you too

Angeline slept with her door locked that night, but her ears open for Mitch. She heard him go downstairs at one point and she waited and waited and waited for him to come back. He did about an hour later, breathing heavily. She assumed he had gone down to the gym to release some stress.

Still, she continued to listen, worried she'd hear him start whimpering and crying in his sleep again. Angeline must have stayed awake for at least another hour before she drifted off, her body far too comfortable in a bed that wasn't as crappy as the ones in all of the motels she'd been in recently.

When she woke, Angeline took a shower before making her way down to the kitchen. She was glad to find that it was empty as she grabbed a box of cereal from the side and looked through a bunch of cabinets until she found a bowl and a spoon, preparing herself one of the blandest breakfasts ever. It seemed like there was nothing unhealthy in the house-- nothing with flavour.

"You're up late."

Angeline craned her head over her shoulder to see Mitch standing in the doorway of the dining room. He had even more sweat on him than yesterday and he was in his gym clothes again, which was strange, because she swore he had already gone down there after his nightmare last night.

"Yeah," Angeline mumbled, shovelling some cereal into her mouth.

So that was the game he was going to play? He was just going to pretend that she didn't find him having one of the worst night terrors that Angeline had ever seen in her life? He'd woken up screaming and he'd been crying a girl's name...

Milly.

Angeline wondered who Milly was. Had he been a girlfriend of Mitch's? A friend? A family relative perhaps? Either way, she knew whatever had happened to the girl, Mitch had seen again in his dream last night. He'd made it very clear that she was the last person he wanted to talk to it about.

"Your clothes are clean in the dryer and you have some warmer stuff on the way. We'll have to stay here an extra day so Irene can send them in time," Mitch grumbled, rolling his neck and causing a cracking sound.

Angeline didn't reply but nodded, consuming more of her bland cereal.

"Look. Don't get all quiet on me again just because I put you in your place last night. You shouldn't have come into my room and you should have left me alone," Mitch snapped suddenly.

Glaring down at her bowl, Angeline gripped her spoon and then looked back up at him. "I thought something was wrong with you! You were crying and yelling. You needed help!"

"I don't need anything from you," Mitch spat, "You need me, not the other way round."

Angeline scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You're such an arsehole."

"And you're such a whiny bitch," Mitch growled back. "All you do is complain when you don't get your way."

"You know what that sounds like, Mitch? That sounds like toxic masculinity. You're so upset that you actually showed emotion for once that you're blaming it all on me and making it out like I'm in the wrong for wanting to make sure you weren't fucking dying or something--"

Mitch was in front of her within seconds, grabbing her by the stool and spinning it around so that she was sitting practically between his legs. His minty breath was on her and she could see his skin shining with sweat now.

"You know what would have happened if I was actually dying?" Mitch snapped, "You'd be dead too. If something had been wrong with me, if your father or his opposition had caught up and were killing me in that room, then you would've had to run, Angeline. You would have been taken and tortured until you were dead if I had actually been dying last night."