The kiss started out slow and gentle as he pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me. Whoever came up with the phrase "heaven on earth" had obviously had Michael Scofield's lips pressed against them.
Out of nowhere I felt his tongue dart into my mouth. The joining of his sweet tasting kiss and his thrusting tongue about made me melt on impact.
When I flicked my tongue out to meet his he took that as his cue to speed things along. His kiss became more urgent, more desperate. He backed me up into the wall and pressed his body to mine as tight as he could. My arms wound themselves around his neck and locked tight. When he felt my body giving in to his, he grabbed my leg and hiked it around his waist. Forgetting where we were and all that was wrong with this situation, we kissed with everything we had. Eventually, I started to run out of air so I had to pull away, panting.
He closed his eyes and laid his forehead against mine. One of us was going to have to say something, but right now, silence was good enough.
We had stood like that for who knows how long when he finally decided to break our silence.
"Abbie, I-"
"We have a lot to talk about, Michael." I interrupted him.
He smiled, grimly, "I'm aware."
I moved to back away from him when he grabbed my wrists and pulled me back. "We have the rest of our lives to talk," He ran his hand down my belly, sending goosebumps through my shirt. "Right now I just want to touch you."
I pushed him away and raised an eyebrow at him, "What do you mean, 'we have the rest of our lives'?"
He looked at me exasperatedly. "Did you really think I risked coming here just to catch up on days gone by?" I looked at him, obviously confused. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles, one by one. "I've come here to get you, Abbie. To take you to Mexico with me."
Shaking my head, I backed away from him even more. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm not going anywhere with you!" He reached his arms out to grab me, so I kicked him in the shins.
Groaning, he fell down to the ground. "What was that for?"
"If you think that I'm going to go ANYWHERE with your sorry ass, then you're mistaken. You cannot just come back into my life and expect that I am going to run off to Timbuktu just because you said so. And just for the record, I left YOU. I decide if I want you back, not the other way around." I screamed at him, not caring if anyone heard.
He grabbed a hold of the cars side mirror and pulled himself to his feet, trying not to put pressure on his left leg. Asshole should not have tried to grab me. "I'm just trying to protect you. Those people will stop at nothing to get to us. If they have already been here than you're not safe. Even if all they knew about you was that you were Lincoln's girlfriend. They know that hurting you will hurt him which will in turn affect me. That's all they want, is to get to me."
I scoffed at him, "And what makes you so special?"
"I'm valuable to whoever's coming after me for some reason. I've noticed that I'm the one they're gunning for the most. I don't know why, but I don't want to stick around to find out. I want to get you out of here so I can keep you safe." He answered, trying to come close to me again.
Putting my hand to his chest, I let him know that I was not as angry, but I still didn't want him near me. "Mike, you- you just can't tell me that I'm going to go with you. I have a life here. I have a job, school, friends, stuff that is important to me. No matter what they may or may not do, I won't let it affect my life like that."
He put his hand against my cheek, "Isn't there anything important to you that's not located in New York?" I leaned my face into his hand and sighed. "All I want is to know that you're okay. If they know where you are, they'll never stop. Let me keep you safe. Let me protect you." He whispered.
"What about everything I said to you two years ago? When I told you I would never tell Lincoln about us? And what about Lincoln? How are you going to explain why you risked everything just to come here and get me?" As far as I knew, Lincoln never knew about my affair with Michael. Not that he was ever sober or aware enough to notice.
He put his other hand on my other cheek, "I always hoped you said those things because you knew you were leaving. At the time, if you had not of said them, I would never have let you go. Apparently, you weren't even planning on leaving when you said them, which blows that theory out of the water, but I know you felt things for me. They might not have been strong and you might not feel them anymore, but they were there, albeit briefly. After you left, I tried not to think about you. I did everything I could to forget you, but you were never gone from my mind for good. You were all I wanted "
I clenched my eyes shut so he could not see the tears that were threatening to pour out. "Oh, Michael. You really believed me, didn't you? I lied to you. I was angry and scared and I just couldn't deal with it all anymore. I never meant to hurt you. You deserved so much better than me. You wanted all these things that I just could never give you."
I felt him pull himself down and kiss my eyelids, "Open your eyes, Abbie." I shook my head, still not trusting myself to not burst into tears. "Open them. Please." His voice cracked, "Please."
As soon as I wrenched them open, a tear fell from one. He took his thumb and wiped at the teardrop that was falling down my cheek. He straightened out, but I was looking anywhere but at him. "Look in my eyes, Abigail. I don't care what you thought I needed or deserved, I wanted you. I WANT you. Ever since you first started coming to my apartment, ever since you started needing me to make you feel safe, I've wanted you. Heck, if I'm being honest, I wanted you a hell of a long time before that. Everything you did, everything you was, none of that mattered to me. You were mine. You ARE mine. Forever." His eyes blazed with sudden anger, "And if I have to physically drag you into my car and chain you to the seat, so help me god I'll do it. I don't care what Lincoln thinks. I'll tell him the truth myself."
I bit my lip and looked down at my shoes, "Michael, there's things you don't know. Things I've kept from you. I was hoping it would never matter, but since you're obviously not going to go away of your own accord you need to hear it."
He smiled, "You know I don't care about any of that stuff. Nothing you could say would change that."
"I'm not so sure of that." I answered.
He put his arm around me, "Well why don't you tell me on the way." He turned around to open my car door, "We can go back to your house and grab whatever you want if you hurry, but we need to be on the road-"
"Michael, I'm not going with you." I blurted out.
He spun around so fast I thought his head was going to fly off, "What the hell do you mean you're not going with me? Yes, you are." His eyes flashed with anger.
I narrowed my eyes at him, "No."
Grabbing my arm, he dragged me over to the passenger seat, "Get. In. The. Car."
"No!" I yelled, turning around and lifting my foot to kick him again. He wasn't one to be fooled twice and he easily caught it mid-air.
"Are you ignorant? Do you WANT to die?" He all but shouted in my face.
My face crumpled at the mention of dying. Grayson was all I was concerned with. "No…"
"Then what is your defiance about? What do you have here that you could not have somewhere safer? With me." My hands covered my face at the realization of losing Grayson hit me. "Tell me what it is?" He begged.
With my hands over my face, I finally was able to sob out one word.
"Grayson."
His hands left mine as if he'd been burned. "I knew it. Of course you lied again." He spat at me with disgust. "Have you ever been faithful to one man, or are you still the same slut you used to be?"
I looked up at him and gasped at the nerve he had. In my entire life I'd only ever slept with two men and he was one of them. That hardly constitutes a slut. In fact, I think the correct term would be prude.
He was, of course, referring to the days before I starting seeing him. I gave favors for money or drugs. Not all the time, but more than I was proud of. I never let the men go farther than touching, though. When I started to try to turn my life around, I stopped doing it. This was also about the time that I started going to Michael's apartment.
Standing up straight, I calmly looked him in the eye and slapped him as hard as I could across the face. He didn't even flinch, so he obviously was expecting it. After shutting my passenger door, I turned around and walked around the car to the driver's side. I got in, started the car, and pulled away, without once glancing in his direction. Serves him right.
He did not even try to stop me. I don't know if that was out of guilt for what he had said, or if he actually believed the bullshit coming out of his mouth.
Either way, he is still an asshole.
My hands were shaking as I drove home. The Michael that I knew would never demand that I drop everything and run away with him. This new demeanor had to be a result of prison. What happened to him in there? What happened to make him change so much?
flashback
"Alright, we have Braveheart or Sleepless in Seattle. Which one do you want?"
Smirking, he pointed to Braveheart. "I'd rather have the mans movie, thank you."
Pouting, I threw the box at his head. It missed him by centimeters. "You only picked that because you know Sleepless in Seattle is my favorite."
"You're right, but it's also because Braveheart is twice as long as Reality Bites. Which means you have to stay longer." Giving me a smile, he got up to put the movie in.
Our nights together had slowly become routine. I would show up at eleven at night (when Lincoln would leave for "work"), we'd put a movie on, eat our weight in junk food, I would fall asleep on his shoulder, he'd move me to his bed and in the morning I would wake up and yell at him for sleeping on the couch. Then I'd go home and hope I made it in before Lincoln did, thereby avoiding all questions.
We did this once or twice a week, whenever I was off work and to scared to stay at the apartment by myself. After living on the streets for so long you tend to lose your innocence and naivety, but I was still to frightened to be by myself especially when I knew Michael would gladly let me stay.
I wasn't sure why he was so happy when I imposed on him. Lincoln was his brother so maybe he felt some obligation to me.
One time I asked him why he spent more time with me than with his own brother and his sudden change in demeanor worried me so I never asked again. His eyes darkened and a scowl graced his mouth, "What my brother does is no concern to me. If he wants to ruin his life and spend the rest of it in jail, that's his problem." When I opened my mouth to argue that what I've done was no better than anything Linc did, he put his hand up to stop me. "I know what you're going to say and no, you are nothing like him. You are a victim of circumstance, he shaped his own destiny."
He gave me a sad smile, "Abbie, I know you're going to get away from this life. One day you'll see." And with that, his smile was gone and he would only give me one word answers for the rest of the night.
I didn't see him for two weeks because I thought my question made him angry at me. He finally came into the bar where I worked and crushed me into his arms. When I was finally able to get free, I pulled back and asked him what the hell was wrong with him.
"You haven't come over in over two weeks, I was so worried. Are you trying to send me to an early grave?" His words were harsh, but he was smiling as he said them. He pulled me back into his arms and put his mouth to my hair, breathing deeply.
Embarrassed at his unexpected behavior, I pushed him away from me. "Alright Mike, that's enough. This will get back to Lincoln if you don't leave. I'll come over tomorrow night, okay?"
The next night he told me that he was sorry for upsetting me. He promised that no matter what he said or how he acted that it never had to do with me. He made me promise that I would not go that long without letting him know I was all right, too. I agreed to call him at least every two days if I wasn't able to come over.
Maybe he was just worried because I was his brothers girlfriend. Or maybe he actually cared for me in some small way. I wasn't sure, but the memory of how relieved he looked when he saw me in the bar never went away and I always made sure to let him know where I was at and how I was doing.
I was already crying by the time I made it back home. Why couldn't he have just stayed away and let me live my life? I didn't deserve this. Grayson didn't deserve this.
I laid my head on my steering wheel and took a deep breath.
And Michael didn't deserve this.
It wasn't his fault that I ran away that day. He would have begged me to stay, I know that. My stupidity was the reason we were in this mess now. It was my fault all of this had happened. Maybe if I had just told the truth in the beginning Michael would be hard at work building in Chicago and Lincoln wouldn't be running for his life in South America.
Forcing the tears to stop coming, I pushed all that out of my mind before I went inside. Mrs. Peters, old as she was, had eyes like a hawk and I didn't want her asking what the problem was. I checked my appearance in the mirror and looked semi-decent. I could always blame the red eyes on the cold.
She was sitting on the couch and knitting something when I got inside, "Hello dear, how was your night?" She smiled up at me.
Collapsing into the chair across from her, I closed my eyes and threw my head back, "I was on my way to the grocery store when Terry called and told me to come in and cover for a few minutes so he could eat. Who cares that I never get time to eat when I'm working, but by all means, lets call Abbie and have her come in on her night off." I hated to lie to her, but it was my only option.
Laughing, she put her knitting back in her bag and stood up to go home, "You're almost done with school and then you won't have to worry about him anymore." Patting me on the shoulder, she walked to the door, "Grayson had a bit of a fever when he woke up to call you earlier. I gave him some medicine and he seemed to feel a bit better. I just wanted to let you know."
"Thanks Mrs. Peters." I stood at the door to make sure she got home okay.
When I saw her walk in her house, I shut the door and leaned against it. Sighing, I wondered if Michael would show up at my house tonight. I knew he knew my address, so it was only a matter of time before he showed up. I hoped he'd take the hint and stay away from me. At least for a little while.
Friday morning dawned with little relief to my worries. I had dreamed about Michael last night. He had been caught and was sitting in an electric chair. Before they put the blindfold over his eyes they asked if he had any last words. He looked up to meet my gaze and firmly said, "I will always love you, Abigail."
I woke up covered in sweat and gasping. Was my dream an omen?
Fortunately, there was work and class to keep my busy all day. I bundled Grayson up and dropped him off at daycare, promising to come take him home after work. As much as I hated to admit it, he was used to not seeing me during the day. But since he wasn't feeling well last night he was a little clingier than usual.
Work passed quickly. Fridays were usually busy so I had something to keep my mind off of Michael. I knew he wouldn't dare come into a busy diner in the middle of the day, so I was able to relax and let my guard down. Terry, of course, took that as his cue to hit on me more than usual. Ignoring him, I finally ended my shift and took off to spend a couple hours with Grayson before I had to go to school. Business was never something that I particularly enjoyed, but it was quick and easy, exactly what a single mom needs. Growing up, I always wanted to be a teacher. But as I got older and saw the true ways of the world, I shot that idea down. How could I be a role model and teach children right and wrong always remembering how horrible my upbringing was?
The beginnings of my life weren't my fault, of course. I couldn't help that I had an alcoholic mother and a stepfather who thought I was his personal blow up doll. I ran away from home when I was still in grade school and did whatever I needed to do to survive. Thankfully, Lincoln found me not long after I started living on the streets and saved me.
Our lifestyle wasn't ideal and in the later years I could have stopped what I was doing before it got to bad. But by the time I realized I was in over my head, there was no turning back. If Michael's friendship hadn't of come along when it did, I would probably be dead right now. He made me want to change.
Lincoln knew what I was doing to get drugs for us, but he ignored it. Everyone who knew me would tell you that I was stubborn to a fault and Lincoln knew that if he tried to stop me from anything that I would do it just to spite him. That's why he did some of the stuff he did to get us money. He tried his hardest to keep us afloat so that I rarely ever had to do things behind his back.
Michael offered me money the first time he heard about it. Lincoln had went to see him once to ask for a loan and Michael refused until he told him why. That night when he came home, he handed me an envelope filled with hundreds. I told him to spend it on a hooker and never offer me money again if he wanted to keep his balls.
He never offered me money again.
School was a lot slower going than work. The teacher for that nights particular class liked to lecture more than he liked hands-on learning, so my thoughts naturally drifted. I wondered where Michael was and what he was thinking. Could he really have such little faith in me to believe what he said? After everything that had happened between us, all the late night whispers on how much I wanted to be with him, how much I wanted to end the life I was living, he still thinks I'd lie.
I should have told him about Grayson while I had the chance. He needed to know before he left last night.
But I also should have said something to Lincoln when he called me.
Grayson deserved to know about his father.
If only I knew who his father was.