chapter twenty

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"Oh, fan-fucking-tastic."

The four of them awkwardly stood still, staring at the door as someone entered, staring at them.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?" Mike shrieked angrily, voice high-pitched.

"Uhm... we're here to rescue Tom and beat... your ass?" Patryk tried, voice cracking. His sentence sounded like he was questioning himself, and Tom started giggling. "Wait, that didn't come out right."

"Fucking shit, bitch, motherfucker-" Mike let out an even bigger chain of curse words, staring wide-eyed at the group of four.

"Wow... you're more pathetic then I assumed," Tord claimed, smirking as usual.

"What, are you Tom's friends or something?" Mike sneered, ignoring the comment. He crossed his arms, standing tall, doing his best to look threatening. Tord, on the other hand, was relaxed, showing no tense nor fear, the look on his face kind of terrifying.

"Actually, yeah. We are," Patryk snapped.

"Soldater,"  Tord hissed, causing both of them snap to attention, "framover."

With that simple command(?), the two began to advance Mike, causing Tom to shiver with fear at the sudden change in demeanor. Mike stumbled backwards, his bravery gone, as the two rushed him. Patryk was the first to swing, the punch landing square in the jaw. Tom couldn't help but whimper, hiding his face in Tord's hoodie, unable to watch the scene. He did, however, hear the satisfying yelps of pain as the two pummeled Mike, feeling a hand touch his shoulder.

"Never," Tord snarled, "hurt," venom was obvious in his voice, "Tom."

"Fuck! Shit, okay! I won't touch him! I swear, I won't touch him!" pleaded Mike, sounding pitiful.

"Av, soldater. Repeat after me, Mike," he purred in response, hand still on Tom's shoulder. "I will never talk."

"I will never talk."

"I will never touch."

"I will never touch."

"Nor will I mention Tom."

"Nor will I mention Tom."

"Let's go," Tord prompted.

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