Espionage

You're A Wanted Man Tyler Greyson.

It's been 1 week, 2 days and 16 hours since my release from MI6. Much like the attack in the summer, I had to spend the remainder of my break here at school because it's the "safest place for me" and they "don't want me to get hurt". Really they wanted me in one place in case the Circle or Tyler came for me. Which, in their mind, was the same thing. They are still incredibly surprised that I am holding my ground with my insistence that Tyler is innocent.

My lack of sleep is not helping me much with keeping my composure, or gathering information to prove Tyler's innocence. I mean, I've been having shit sleep for months, but it's gotten worse. I can't even think straight not knowing whether or not Tyler is safe. This isn't just another mission. What if The Circle catches him again? What if the CIA or any intel agency catches him? He has two of the world's most powerful networks in the world determined to find him. And his fate isn't bright in either direction. On one hand, if Tyler ends up in the hands of The Circle they'll probably kill him. But, if he ends up in government custody, he's going to be spending the rest of his life in prison for treason. So, there's nothing he can do right now except hide and nothing I can do other than help build his case.

I turned my head to the side to look at the clock. In bright white letters it read 4:18 a.m. I still have 3 more hours. 3 more hours until limos full of excited girls pull up in front of the school, screaming about not seeing their friends in a little more than 2 weeks. 3 more hours until I have to put on my "I'm fine" face and make people actually believe it. When I'm sure news has already spread around the school about Tyler and I have to endure girls giving me looks in the hall or being bold enough to ask me questions about it. 3 more hours until my life starts again and I have to pretend like none of this is happening. A life where my biggest concern should be passing my classes and making into Sublevel 3.

I shifted back further into my bed and tried to fall asleep. With no avail, I decided to see if I had any melatonin pills left, making a mental reminder to ask Dr. S if I could have something a bit stronger. As I opened my drawer, as quietly as I could, I found a piece of paper laying on top of my pill bottle.

4:15 am, our place.

Quickly, but quietly, I hopped out of bed and threw on a sweatshirt and some bed slippers. I took a quick peek at Jade before rushing out of my room and hurrying down the stairs leading towards the grand hall. I slipped into the small library by the side. There he was, standing there, leaning against the windowsill. A smirk graced his face once he saw me enter the room.

"You're late." He teased. I gave him a once over to check for any signs of injury. Even though the only light in the room was the moonlight and dim emergency lights in the hallways, I was satisfied when I didn't see any glaring signs of injury.

"You're an ass." I replied, crossing my arms. He pouted at my response.

"Ouch! And after I risked my life to come see you, crossing seas and oceans for you because someone wants to constantly know if I'm alive, and this is how you greet me?" He shook his head. "No hug, no kiss, just sass."

"Not until you tell me what the hell is going on here!" I stood my ground. He took a few long strides over to me before pulling me into his body. His arms wrapped around my body and I couldn't help but hug him back so tight as if I felt like if I let go he'd disappear again. "Tyler, you have no idea how worried I was about you." I mumbled into his chest.

"I know baby, I know." He rubbed my back. "I'm so sorry."

"They had me in interrogation for 24 hours. They showed me your folder..." I stopped talking as soon as I felt him release his grip on me. I almost complained about the lack of contact.

"You know I didn't do any of those things right?" He asked, looking into my eyes.

"I know, but they had so much evidence. So much believable evidence. And... my dad." I turned my head to look elsewhere because I couldn't bear to look at him while I spoke. He gripped my face tight and forced my face to look up at him.