"This is the FBI, open up before we break the door down."
A guy outside screamed through the door. I was clutching onto Sams arm, squeezing it tightly. He had tears streaming down his face. I was trying to be strong, for him, for me. There was a loud bang on the hotel door as they started breaking it down.
"Oh God," I cried. The tears fell.
"C-Colby, I don't wanna die," Sam cried. We huddled together in the bathtub. I held Sams hand tight as the door cracked and groaned.
"It's going to be ok," I said, trying to be reassuring. I didn't believe myself and I could tell Sam didn't either.
"This is the FBI, we're coming in," the guy shouted again. I gasped for air, this was it.
I could just picture it. FBI dudes with guns and heavy protection walking into the hotel room, guns aimed and ready to fire. They said dead or alive, that's what all the news stations said. They'll look in every corner until they realize the bathroom door is shut and locked. They'll want to break that one down too.
"Sam, I have to let you know..." I needed to let him know how I truly felt about him.
"Shhh," he shushes me. But by now it's too late, they know where we are. We stayed as quiet as possible.
"Sir, this door is locked," another man said. The doorknob jiggled as they tired to open it.
"We know you're in there. Open this door," the first man said. Sam and I look at each other, wide eyed. The doorknob jiggled again. Then it was silent.
The door was kicked open without warning. It was loud and sudden and Sam screamed. He curled into me and I ducked my head. Three men, all in black, walked in. They had their guns drawn, pointed at us.
"Please don't shoot, please," I begged the officers over and over again. The guy in the middle stared us down before nodding to the other men. I physically sighed when I saw them lower their weapons. I mean we're just two boys huddled in the bathtub, what are we going to do?
Sam was shaking hard against me. The guy on the left reached in and grabbed him. He screamed and more tears left his eyes.
"Colby... no please... Colby," he screamed as they took him out of the bathroom. He thrashed around, kicking his legs. And I was helpless because the other guy grabbed me. I could only watch in fear as they dragged him outside.
"Don't hurt him please," I begged the guy in the middle. The man who grabbed me was holding my arm tight. I wiggled to try to get him to loosen his grip but it didn't work. After patting me down to make sure I don't have any weapons on me, they sat me on the bed, handcuffing me. From where I sat, I could see multiple men outside and bright lights filtering the night sky. I could hear Sam crying and screaming outside.
"We've been looking for you both for a long time now," the middle guy said. He must be the leader or something.
"It's only been a week," I grumble, tears still escaping my eyes.
"Colby," I hear Sam yell in the distance. I go to stand up, a natural instinct, but the officer pushes me back down.
"I'm begging you don't hurt him," I cry. The FBI agent looks at me. I saw a little bit of sadness flicker across his eyes.
"I'm going to need you to answer some questions," he said. He didn't acknowledge my plea.
"Wilde, we gotta situation down here. The boy won't stop screaming and is spitting everywhere."
The mans walkie talkie goes off. Now knowing the mans name, Wilde, glares at the door. They must be talking about Sam.
"He has separation anxiety," I whisper. Wilde looks at me, grabbing his walkie talkie.
