Chapter Eight

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Mathew's point of view

Troye never told me his name was James.. He only ever told me that he changed it. It almost feels like I've been lied to. He knew about my old name. In fact, he gave me my new identity. He set me free..

My dad had just given me a beating a couple of hours ago, I was left on the bathroom floor as my lip bled and my ankle throbbed. The doorbell rings and I stumble toward the stairs. I crawl backwards down the stairs- the way one would climb down a latter. Once I get to the bottom, I struggle to stand up. I manage to get onto my feet, but it hurts like hell. My swollen ankle slows me down, making me take over two minutes to answer the door.

And when I do, it's someone I never would have expected to see. There's three men wearing suits. They all spread out to reveal a young boy- he looks to be around seventeen or eighteen. He steps forward, looking at me with concerned eyes.

"It's worse than I thought.." He muttered to a taller, older man. The older man stepped forth, offering a hand. I shook it, muttering a quite 'hello' though it came out as more of a croak. I'm pathetic, even they can see it.

"May we come inside?" The man asked politely. I hesitated before nodding.

"Yeah, yeah." I opened the door wider, sniffling slightly. I hope they don't question my current state- whoever they are.

"Where's your father?" The man asked as his.. friends looked around my living room.

"He left for work a little over an hour ago, why?"

"Because he will be arrested for his wrong doing. And you are coming with us." They all four start toward the stairs, taking two steps at a time. I follow not too far behind the men, frantically asking them questions as I panic.

"Who are you people? And why are you in my house? Why's my dad getting arrested? And where the hell are you taking me?" When we get to the top of the stairs I block off the entrance to my bedroom with my body, refusing to let them get past me without a thorough explanation.

The young boy - well young compared the the men he's with- steps forward, fingers lightly grabbing my arm. He leads me into my fathers bedroom.

"What are you doing and who are you?" I push him away from me.

"I'm Troye, and I am the top field agent at a very important agency." He pulls something out of his inside jacket pocket- a black wallet-looking thing. He flashes me his gold, shield shaped badge.

"Me, my boss Marcus, Caspar and a couple other men are here to recruit you. We've been keeping tabs on you, Tyler. We know all about your father abusing you." He looks me up and down in a casual manner, eyes stopping at my swollen ankle. He crouched down to get a better look at it, clicking his tongue.

"How'd you sprain it?" He glanced up at me as he began touching my swollen ankle.

"My- it's none of your business." I'm freaked out that he knows so much about me. Why should I trust any of these strangers who practically barged into my house? My father would kill me if he found out that I let someone in his home, especially his bedroom. With a boy.. Like I am right now. I'm so utterly screwed.

"But it is." he applied pressure to my supposedly sprained ankle, making me hiss in pain as I fell to the floor. He muttered a quick apology, helping me onto my fathers bed.

"When I was.. younger this agency took me in, I was in a similar situation to the one you're currently in. I had a name that tied me back to home, and I didn't want it to hold me back. When Marcus, my current boss, came around, and recruited me; he gave me hope and a new identity. I too was skeptical about leaving with a few strangers in suits, but I took the risk and did it. And I'm glad I did. Tyler, if you come with us I can promise you a good life. You'll never get another beating again. Although you may get a bit banged up in training.. So, What do you say? Do you want to stay in this house by yourself, since your father will be locked up, or come with us?"

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