That's What You Get

Chapter Six: Cracks Beneath the Surface

Mikey hadn't really meant to end up at Dani's house. He just started walking and somehow, that's where he landed. He told himself it was a casual visit, no big deal, but deep down, he knew he needed to see her. Dani had a way of making the noise in his head feel a little less loud.

He knocked on the door twice, stepping back and shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. When it creaked open, it wasn't Dani who appeared, but Trick. Her boyfriend, Patrick.

"Mikey," Trick greeted with an easy smile. "Hey, man. Dan's not here. Got called in for that case, you know, the one with Luca and Lincoln."

"Oh." Mikey nodded, trying not to look too disappointed. "Right. That makes sense."

"I'll let her know you stopped by," Trick offered. "You good?"

"Yeah," Mikey lied. "Just wanted to say hi."

Trick nodded once. "Be careful getting home, alright?"

Mikey gave a small smile, but it faded as he turned around. The door closed behind him with a soft click, and he walked down the steps, the quiet tug of unease pulling at him more strongly than before.

-----

Back in his home, Mikey sank into the couch. He didn't flip on the TV. Didn't grab his phone. Just stared at the ceiling and listened to the silence pressing in on him. It wasn't until his vision blurred that he realized he was crying. Again.

He wiped his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, swallowing hard. Something about Trick had felt... off. Not in the way he acted, he was kind, polite always, but in the way Dani had been lately. More distant. Guarded. Like she was building walls around herself that even Mikey couldn't climb.

She never let people into the house anymore. She used to host dinners, movie nights. But now? She always met him elsewhere. Always had an excuse.

And Trick... there was something about his smile. Too calm. Too easy.

-----

Back at Dani's house, the silence was deceptive. Too still, too perfect.

The moment the front door clicked shut behind Mikey, the fragile illusion shattered. Patrick's smile fell away like a mask. The warmth in his eyes evaporated, revealing the cold calculation beneath. His posture shifted, casual tension replacing charm, as he turned from the door and made his way into the dining room.

Dani was waiting. She sat motionless in the wooden chair, wrists bound tightly to its arms with worn leather straps. The restraints had dug into her skin just enough to leave behind faint red marks. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, some dried, others fresh. She hadn't meant to cry. She hated when he saw her cry.

Her gaze lifted when he entered. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "He didn't ask anything. I don't think he suspects."

Patrick didn't respond right away. He began pacing slowly, deliberately, around the table, circling her like a predator sizing up its next move. Dani kept her eyes forward, steady, trained on the wall ahead. If she didn't look at him, maybe he'd be satisfied. Maybe he wouldn't-

"When's he getting out?" Patrick asked, cutting into the silence like a knife.

Dani blinked. "Soon."

He stopped. "How soon?"

She hesitated. "I don't know exactly. A few days. Maybe less."

Patrick's hand came down hard on the table with a loud crack. The sudden noise made Dani jolt violently, her whole body tensing.

"Don't lie to me, Danielle," he said through clenched teeth.

"I'm not," she said quickly, her voice breaking. "That's what they're saying. Tomorrow or the next day. That's all I know, I swear."

The air between them felt heavy. Patrick stared at her for a long, suffocating moment. He didn't move, didn't blink. Just watched. Finally, he took a slow breath, and the tightness in his shoulders began to ease. His anger receded, not vanished, just buried again.

"See?" he said, straightening up and brushing imaginary lint from his jeans. "That wasn't so hard."

Dani didn't reply. Her jaw was locked tight.

"Can I go now?" she asked, eyes still fixed ahead.

Patrick walked behind her, his footsteps soft on the floorboards. He unfastened the straps from her wrists, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they worked the buckles loose. The skin underneath was sore and slightly bruised, but she didn't wince. She wouldn't give him that.

"Go wash your face," he said.

Dani rose carefully, her muscles stiff from being bound too long. She moved slowly, every step deliberate, like someone who'd learned that sudden motions might provoke something worse. Her hands trembled slightly at her sides.

As she passed him, Patrick's voice followed her.

"You did good."

She didn't answer. Her face was blank.

In the bathroom, she closed the door and locked it with shaking hands. Her reflection in the mirror startled her. Red-rimmed eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, the ghost of a handprint on her upper arm from earlier. She turned on the faucet and let the cold water run for a few seconds before splashing it on her face. The chill stung, but it helped her breathe.

Her mind replayed the night like a broken record. Every step had been calculated. Every word she'd said to Mikey had been carefully chosen, rehearsed even, to make sure he didn't see too much. She couldn't risk him getting involved. Not now. Not while Patrick was watching so closely.

Not while Pete was about to walk free.

She braced her hands on the edge of the sink and exhaled, trying to push down the panic rising in her chest. Everything was unraveling too fast. Mikey had come over just to hang out, but the tension had hung in the air like smoke. Pete's presence had shaken everyone, even if no one said it outright. Patrick had played the perfect host in front of Mikey, of course. Smiling, laughing, keeping up the act.

But the second Mikey left, the mask came off.

Dani wiped her face with a towel, careful to avoid the spots that still stung. She checked her reflection one more time before unlocking the door and stepping back into the hallway.

Patrick was waiting there, leaning casually against the wall. He didn't say anything at first. Just looked at her.

"I meant what I said," he told her. "You handled tonight well."

Dani nodded once. "Thanks."

He reached out, brushing a strand of damp hair behind her ear. "We're almost through this."

She forced herself to hold still. "Right."

Patrick smiled again, his fake, easy smile. The one everyone else believed.

But Dani had learned to see the cracks.

And she knew better than to believe a single one of his promises.

-----

The next morning, Mikey still hadn't moved from the couch.

His thoughts spun in circles. What if Dani was in trouble? Would she even tell him if she were? Trick had never given him a reason not to trust him, but something wasn't right.

A knock came at the door. Soft at first.

Then again, harder.

Mikey blinked and dragged himself upright, padding to the door slowly. He opened it and froze.

There, standing on the porch, was someone he hadn't seen in years. Someone he never thought would find him.

They smiled.

"Mikey."

He stepped back slightly, shock written across his face. "What the hell...? How did you... why are you here?"

But even as the questions tumbled out, a part of him already knew this moment would change everything.