Agent Grantham vs the Fake Boyfriend, part 5
Sweat beaded on her forehead as the cool metal of the gun pressed to her temple, her eyes searching Matthew's face. She'd just started to trust him, but she vaguely wondered if it had been misplaced. Would he let her die for the sake of the cipher?
He looked back at her, his eyes impassive as he glanced away again.
"What makes you think it matters to me if you kill her?" he spoke coldly.
One of the men laughed. "That kiss."
"It—it was for cover," Matthew managed, his voice forced.
"Was it, Agent Crawley? Then why did we only see the end of it?"
Mary felt her mouth go dry. The kiss had been real.
Matthew's eyes flicked to hers, the fear she saw there surprising even when she thought nothing else could surprise her that day.
"Drop you weapon, if you please," the man holding Mary said, his partner tossing her concealed weapon aside. "And take us to the cipher."
She watched as Matthew swallowed, slowly bending down to place his gun on the floor before kicking it away.
"Fine. But you're going to have to give us cover if you want it so badly."
"Oh, we'll cover you all right."
The grip around Mary's neck was loosened, the man roughly grabbing her arm instead as he pushed her into the corridor, shifting his gun so it pressed into her back, the metal firmly against her spine.
"Let her go," Matthew said, following after them, the other man bringing up the rear. Mary couldn't tell if he was being restrained or not, but she had never heard him so angry before.
"An incentive, Agent Crawley, for you to do as we ask and not double-cross us. Agent Grantham will be perfectly safe as long as you lead us to the cipher."
She was forced down a dingy corridor, all of Matthew's attempts to get close to her thwarted by her captor. The man forced her out into an alley, throwing open the door of a black van and pushing her inside. He climbed in next to her, Matthew watching at gunpoint while the first man cuffed her wrists behind her back and bound her ankles together.
"Now, should we tie you up, too, Agent Crawley?"
"I'll come quietly," Matthew insisted, climbing into the van beside Mary.
"There aren't any other weapons in the back, so it's fruitless to try to overpower us," the second man spoke, slamming the door hard at the end of his sentence.
The other man rose, shifting to the front seat while his accomplice climbed into the driver's side.
"Are you alright?" Matthew whispered, his fingers touching her wrist where the cuffs cut in.
"Fine," she managed, her heart racing. He sat on the floor by her side, his hand gently clasping around her arm. The van lurched around a corner and she leaned in to Matthew's shoulder, unable to control her equilibrium as the vehicle surged forward, her hands useless behind her.
"I'm so sorry, Mary," he breathed, his touch still soft as he helped her stay upright. "God, I'm sorry."
"About what?" she questioned, meeting his eyes. "Me being tied up or the kiss?"
His eyebrows knit together, his face nearly as close to hers as it had been when they kissed.
"A bit of both, I suppose," he murmured. "But mostly that it had to end."
Her heart nearly stopped as he van careened around another corner and she crashed into Matthew's chest, his arm holding her close.
"I'll get you out of this," he breathed, lips near her ear. "I swear."
"Give us directions, Agent Crawley!" the driver barked. "And stop whispering back there!"
Matthew's nose briefly touched her ear before he left her side, crouching by the front seat to direct them to the location of the cipher.