Hey everyone, I know it's been quite a while since the last update. I'm so sorry for the long wait. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

Sitara

Bang! Bang!

I jolted awake to the stutter of gunfire, only to find myself immersed in the utter blackness of the midnight woods. The darkness seemed to be pressing in on me from all sides, not even the silvery rays of the full moon could penetrate through the thick canopy's above. My sight was blurry with tears, and my limbs ached like Hell, refusing to move despite how hard I tried. Although I was crippled, I was still moving somehow— speeding through the harrowing darkness along a narrow path through the trees, twigs and branches snapping beneath me.

I was having a hard time trying to figure out what exactly was going on. I was in a daze, with no recollection of the previous events that landed me in this weird, life-threatening situation. Everything was hazy. I felt hungover, as if I had just woken up from a long night of drinking. The last thing I remembered clearly was lying on the sandy beach in San Diego, with my family and high school friends. It was my seventeenth birthday, and we were having the dopest party ever.

Oh my God, my parents are going to be worried sick! What am I going to do?

I had to focus hard to piece everything together. There were a pair of arms holding me tight, the curvature and rippled muscles were so familiar. I could make out the sound of heavy breathing over the gunfire. A broad chest rose and fell rhythmically.

Finally, I came to the realization that someone was carrying me.

The rapid gunshots ceased, and we came to an abrupt halt behind a tree. I mustered the strength to wipe the tears from my swollen eyes. The blurriness faded. I peered up, and spotted a tall, dark and handsome dude with wide framed glasses. He was awfully sweaty, as if he had just finished running a marathon, a strong, earthy musk rose from his powerful body. Due to his closeness, it didn't take much effort to examine his features through the darkness. He had the most beautiful brown complexion I've ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. He gazed at me, his eyes soft and laced with concern, the bronze starbursts in deep brown stare was mesmerizing.

Who was this super-hot, sweaty stranger? Did I know him from somewhere? It was strange, he looked awfully familiar, but I couldn't recall where I knew him from. Why on Earth was he whisking me about through the woods, in the dead of night? Was he trying to protect me? Was someone trying to kill us?

"W-who are you?" I asked.

He remained silent, thick brows furrowed.

"Excuse me, I asked you a question," I grumbled. "Who the heck are you—"

"Shh," he whispered. "We ain't in the clear yet."

A tall, clean-cut man in a black, neatly tailored suit appeared beside us. There were small leaves and freckles of dirt in his straight, slicked back hair. He combed his fingers through his dark, tousled strands before speaking. "I think they've lost track of us, but my brothers are a persistent bunch," he muttered, his voice was oddly slow and calm given the circumstances. He rubbed his strong, chiseled jaw in thought. "Hmm… there may be hope for us yet. I know these woods like the back of my hand. Follow me."

We picked up the pace again, the handsome man carrying me in his arms tailed closely behind the sharply dressed stranger. Where the heck are they taking me? If I had a shred of energy, I would've fought my way out of his grip and made a run for it. I felt so helpless.

"Hang tight, baby," Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome said. "We're almost out of this mess."

"I'm not your baby, creep," I retorted. "Who are you people? Where are we? What's going on?"

"Quit playin', girl." He feigned a smile. "It's me, Marcus."

"Marcus?" I blinked. "That name doesn't ring any bells."

He halted, and studied me silently. I gazed back at him blankly. After a moment or so of staring at one another, it started to become kind of awkward…

"It seems the girl has a slight case of amnesia," the sharply dressed man broke the silence, his dark, cool gray eyes watched me intently. "She suffered quite the concussion, after all. It's a miracle you two survived that car accident, I thought for sure you both were dead."

"Car accident?" I gasped. "When? Where? I have to call my parents—"

"I don't think 'slight case of amnesia' properly describes this situation, man." Marcus replied. "It's more like, an extreme case of amnesia. She doesn't even remember who the fuck we are."

"We need to keep moving. Chances are, she'll snap out of it eventually."

"And if she doesn't?"

Quinn shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I guess you'll have to woo her all over again."

The boys continued forging ahead through the dark woods.

"Where are you guys taking me?" I squirmed about in his arms. My heartbeat pounded against my chest. "Let me go!"

"Hey, chill out," Marcus said. "We're trying to find Wrench, remember? That's why we came out here in the first place—"

"Liar!" I shouted, my voice echoed through the dark woods. "Get off of me!"

"Quiet!" The suited man snapped. He about-faced, and glared at me. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

"Screw you," I spat. "Let me go, or else I'll scream. Your choice."

"Marcus, either you shut her up, or I will," he warned.

"Okay, okay," Marcus muttered. "Everybody just calm the fuck down, alright?" He gently set me down, but my weak legs refused to stand. My knees buckled, and I fell onto the cold, rocky ground.

"Ow," I whimpered, hugging my legs close. Why couldn't I stand? Why was my entire body hurting so bad? My chest grew heavy. I suddenly felt empty, alone, and afraid, the darkness pressed in on me, it was suffocating. I hated this place. I wanted to go home. My lashes brimmed with tears. All I could do was sit in the dirt and sob quietly, I didn't have the strength to do much else…

"Sitara?" Marcus crouched down. Slow and cautious, he approached me. I tensed, edging away from him. "Sweetie, look at me," he pleaded. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

There was sadness laced in his voice, as if he was fighting back tears. It sounded sincere. I peered at him. He appeared to be in so much pain, his eyes wet, and hands clenched into shaking fists, in a desperate battle against his own grief. He sucked in a deep breath, and then exhaled, a tight smile spread across his face as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Remember Ded-Sec?" He asked softly.

"Ded-Sec?" I sniffed.

"We don't have time for this," the jerk in the suit said.

"Give me a fucking second," Marcus demanded. "Sitara, you're a hacker, a damn good one at that. The people of San Francisco was drowning in a cesspool of corporate greed, and corruption, and the worst part of it all was they didn't even know it. They were too fucking blind to see it. But we woke them up— you, me, Josh and Wrench, we did it as a team. Don't you remember Josh and Wrench? They're your friends, you love them to death."

The names he mentioned sounded so familiar. I squeezed my eyes closed, trying my best to remember. A lanky dude with a mask and a spiked leather jacket popped into my head. "Wrench… he wears a mask, right?"

"Yeah!" Marcus exclaimed happily. "And Josh always wears a beanie."

I nodded. "The one that's constantly glued to the computer at the hackerspace, right?"

"Yep, that's him."

I opened my eyes, and studied him. "But what about you?" It was a struggle, but I managed to scoot closer to him. Curious, I reached out, my fingers traced over his sculpted jawline. "Are you my friend too?"

He chuckled. "Well technically, we're more than just friends. We've got a thing going on—"

"A relationship," the suited man added. "Monogamous, I'm guessing."

"Good guess," Marcus replied.

"A relationship?" I asked.

"Indeed," the suited man nodded. "It's where two naïve people agree to commit to one another so they can repeatedly hump each other on a regular basis— that is, until they grow sick of one another, which is evitable, might I add. Then, they break up. Of course, there's those rare cases where the couple actually honors their idiotic oath, and remain together, living out their entire miserable existence alongside the person they've grown to hate."

"That's a really depressing way to look at it," Marcus retorted.

I frowned. "I don't recall agreeing to that."

"Uh, what about the day we had our first kiss?" Marcus asked. "At your apartment?"

"W-we kissed before?" The memory of rain came to mind. "Was it raining that day?"

"Yeah, there was a bad storm actually."

"What kind of kiss was it?" The suited man asked. "A slow kiss? Passionate kiss? Maybe a combination of both? Did the kiss happen to escalate to second base, by any chance? You know, the heavy petting, and the sexy touching above the belt?"

Marcus cleared his throat awkwardly.

"What? I'm trying to help spark her memory."

"I think it'd be more helpful if you gave us some space, man," Marcus replied.

A strong beam of light shined directly at us from between the trees in the distance, the brightness was nearly blinding. "There they are!" A voice cried out from afar. "Kill them!"

"Come with me, hurry!" The man with the tailored suit sped off further into the woods.

"We gotta move," Marcus said. "Can you run?"

I shook my head. He quickly swept me into his arms with little effort, and raced after his friend. Luckily for us, they weren't shooting this time around, but they were closing in on us— heavy footsteps lurked closely behind.

There was a sudden break in the thick mass of trees surrounding us. We reached a narrow dirt road. I spotted bright lights and houses in the distance— I couldn't believe my eyes, it was a town! It stood at the end of the path, the mysterious civilization was hidden behind layers and layers woodland, sandwiched between the encompassing trees. Who in their right minds thought it was a good idea to build a town in such a secluded area? Either way, I was glad they did. If we could make it to town, we'd be safe, there had to be people there who could help us.

The boys bolted for the town, twigs and branches snapped beneath their every step. Our pursuers stalked close behind. My stomach churned with dread. Why were they so determined to kill us? I tried to peek over Marcus' shoulder countless times, in hopes to catch a glimpse of our attackers, but my sight would be impaired by the blinding beams of their flashlights. It was pointless.

Considering I was being conveniently whisked about during the high-speed chase, I did my best to choke down my fear, and set my focus on observing our surroundings. An aged, wooden sign came into view as we neared the town. The words, 'Welcome to Ashton' had been crossed out, and was replaced with an eerie message written in red paint. 'DANGER, TURN BACK NOW' was etched across the wood. The paint looked fresh.

As if we didn't have enough to worry about, the defaced sign gave me the chills. We grazed past the sign and entered the town with our pursuers still at our heels. The town was dead silent, there wasn't a soul in sight to help us. Every shred of hope and optimism I had faded away as I observed the rundown area— a gust of dry wind blew through the long concrete maze of ancient structures, their windows shattered, and the doors of every home hanging on the threads of their hinges, grating in sheer agony as they swayed in the breeze. The only thing still intact around here were the tall street lamps, they illuminated the lonely, abandoned boulevard.

Thankfully our enemies weren't nearly as fast as us, but they didn't seem like they were planning on giving up their pursuit anytime soon. With the support of the town's street lamps, their flashlights were slightly less blinding. I could finally make out the shadowy figures lurking behind us. I counted about six men, their faces concealed with black ski masks, and they donned dark camouflaged fatigues. No way were they military, and they didn't look like any of the street gangs I've ever seen— could they be mercenaries? Although they were armed, they weren't shooting at us. Maybe they ran out of ammunition. After all, they were unloading their clips like madmen back in the woods. It was bound to run out eventually.

The boys came to a sudden halt in their sprint. We stood in the center of the town's road like fish out of water, completely exposed.

"Guys," I murmured, my fists clenched Marcus' jacket. "Why'd we stop? T-they're going to get us…"

"Quinn," Marcus huffed, out of breath from the prolonged running. It was a miracle he still had energy left, considering he's been carrying me this whole time. He was reaching his limit now however, his back hunched over slightly, and wheezing, desperately sucking in air. "Please tell me you know where you're going..."

Quinn appeared to be just as exhausted, his posture slumped, and shoulders bowed over his chest. "Bear with me… we're almost there."

My stomach dropped. They looked so tired, Marcus especially. It was about time I had started to pull my weight, for everyone's sake. Although my body still ached, I had regained some of my strength since earlier. My mental fogginess was slowly clearing up too, and my memories were coming back in bits and pieces. "Marcus, put me down. I think I can manage on my own for now."

"You sure?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

He carefully set me down on my feet. I stumbled, leaning on him for support. It took a moment, but I eventually regained my balance.

Quinn took the lead once again. Marcus jogged behind him. I pushed through the soreness, doing my best to keep up with the boys. We made a sharp turn into an alleyway between two shoddy, wooden houses. A foul, putrid odor hung heavy in the air. It smelled like rotting meat. It was so disgustingly severe that I was tempted to gag right there on the spot. The stench became stronger and stronger the deeper we ventured along the path.

At the end of the alley was a tall, chain link fence. A flock of vultures were crowded around it, their beaks were pecking away at something on the ground. They quickly dispersed into the air once as we neared them. A corpse appeared, it's flesh nearly picked clean, and pitted with billowing insects. It's lifeless brown eyes seemed to be staring straight through me. My cheeks burned with guilt, and my heart pounded against my chest so rapidly, I thought it was going to burst. Who could've done this?

The boys seemed to be unfazed by the corpse, and the horrific smell. Quinn was the first to cling to the fence, and he scaled with it with ease. Marcus was kind enough to give me a boost over it, and Quinn waited patiently on the other side, catching me in his arms as I dropped down. Marcus was the last to successfully climb over.

"Fucker!" One of our pursuers snapped, his beady eyes glared through the chain link standing between us. The man was heaving, clearly exhausted. "We're gonna skin you alive. Do you hear me?" He clenched the fence, and shook it angrily. "You're fucking dead!"

"You're gonna have to catch us first," Marcus taunted with a grin.

We found ourselves in a shadowy backyard of one of the many abandoned houses. We pushed forward, the overgrown grass hugged our ankles. We hopped white picket fence after picket fence during our advance, and still, we didn't encounter a single soul. Finally, we made it back to the road. Quinn hovered behind a rusty vintage car for cover. Marcus and I dipped down beside him. Neither of us muttered a word for quite some time as we struggled to catch our breaths.

"Now what?" Marcus broke the silence.

"There's a bar across the street," Quinn said. "We can lay low there, and perhaps, devise a plan during our stay?"

I stole a glimpse across the empty street. A small, red brick bar was situated on the corner, and hanging from the dusty, sagging square roof was the sign 'Lucky's Saloon', in bright neon letters. The entrance and windows were locked tight with metal security shutters. It'd be tricky trying to get inside, but it was in better condition than most of the structures in town. We could rest easy knowing the roof itself wouldn't collapse on top of us, hopefully.

"It sure as heck isn't open for business," I muttered. "How do we get inside?"

"Never fear, I have the key." Quinn swerved from behind cover and approached the bar.

"You have a key?" Marcus asked as we shadowed behind him. "How the fuck?"

"Ashton used to be a nice little town, a close-knit community thriving with opportunity," Quinn replied, avoiding the question. "It was filled with loving, free-spirited families working together to survive off the land. The political strife, and the technological complexity of modern civilization was far too burdensome. They yearned for a simpler life, to live off the grid, you see, in the wilderness, away from ctOS' influence."

Marcus shook his head. "That's a cool idea and all, but I'm guessing it wasn't all roses and sunshine, huh?"

"Not at all," Quinn replied. "All good things eventually come to end. I used to be a resident here as well, hoping to free myself from the technological jaws that bound me."

"Seriously?" My eyes widened. "You lived out here? In the middle of nowhere?"

He nodded. "Some may find it radical to leave civilization behind, to live without the aid of a computer or phone. But it's quite the freeing experience. You come to realize you can live quite nicely without the distraction of social media and the likes."

"So how'd you end up joining a cult?" Marcus asked. "And what happened to your town?"

"It's a long, pathetically sad story, and I'm in no mood for a pity party," Quinn knelt before the bar's metal shutters, and slipped the key into the padlock. "As for the residents of this town, they were faced an ultimatum— either join the cult, or die. Most chose the latter. I chose to live."

Marcus hunched over and pushed the shutters up, revealing the store's glass entrance. "I'm not interested in your life story, man. But the more information we get about your crazy ass cult, the better. You owe it to us to tell us everything."

Quinn held the door open for us. The bar's dim lights flicked on the moment we stepped inside. It was empty, as expected and so caked with dust, it was hard to breathe. Coughing, I slipped into the nearest row of booths to relax my aching legs. Although the bar hadn't had any business for the longest, a wall of various alcohol bottles was on display behind the counter, ready to be served. Quinn eagerly helped himself to a glass, snatching a whiskey bottle off the wall and chugging down nearly half of it.

Marcus wiggled into the booth beside me. "You good?"

"Well, we're stranded in a ghost town and there's a bunch of psychos trying to kill us," I frowned. "But besides that, I'm just fine."

He gazed at me. "You got a nasty bump on your forehead, from the car accident. Mind if I take a look at it?"

"Sure." I shrugged my shoulders. Although I was still unsure of who he was, I had nothing to lose at this point.

Quinn appeared before our booth, and dropped his whiskey and clean handkerchief on the polished wood table. "You're welcome," he stated.

"Wow, thanks man, what would we do without you?" Marcus asked sarcastically. "It's almost like you're not the fucking reason we're nose deep in shit right now." He poured a bit of alcohol on the handkerchief and cupped my cheek gently. With a delicate touch, he began cleansing my wound. I winced, a stinging pang overwhelmed my forehead.

"You're all doom and gloom," Quinn said. He stepped aside, and began unbuttoning his suit jacket, revealing a black vest, and a clean, white collared shirt underneath. He slipped off his leather gloves, and carefully undid the cufflinks of his sleeves. As he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, I noticed his toned, pale arms were laced with deep scars. The cuts looked recent, and still in the process of healing, red and scabbed. "Why don't you live a little, Marcus?" Quinn asked. "Life is short, my friend—"

"We ain't friends," Marcus grumbled. "Those motherfuckers trying to kill us are your friends."

"They're my ex-friends, Marcus. It was a toxic relationship, and I'm currently in the process of breaking it off, which is why I'm stuck here with you."

"What'd you do to piss them off anyway?"

"We've been through this already. I broke a sacred oath, punishable by death."

"What kind of oath?"

"A sacred one," he smirked.

"Really man?" Marcus glared at him, clearly annoyed.

"Do the small details really matter?" Quinn turned away to grab another drink from the wall. "All you need to know is, I'm here to help you save your friend. He's locked up on the other side of town, in a secure location."

"Giovanni was under the impression he was at a shipping yard."

"We stopped using the shipping yard to store cargo a few months ago. The risk of detection is dramatically low when off the grid, away from ctOS' prying eyes. I can take you to Wrench. After that, we go our separate ways."

"Fine by me." Marcus set the bloodstained cloth aside. "How's your head feeling, girl? Does it still hurt?"

"The pain is easing up now," I feigned a smile. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"Just say the word when you're ready to depart," Quinn turned his back to us, and slid onto the barstool before the counter. "The sooner the better, of course. By the way, you wouldn't happen to have any bolt cutters, would you?"

"Does it look like I carry around bolt cutters?" Marcus grumbled.

"Why do you need those?" I asked.

"We use padlocks around here, if you haven't noticed," Quinn said. "Without a key, we'll need an alternative method to free your friend. Bolt cutters would do nicely, if we had any." He chugged down the last of his drink, and sprang up from the barstool. "Pardon me, I'll be right back." Quinn treaded for the door.

Marcus latched onto his arm, stopping his advance. "Yo, where are you going?"

"There's a hardware store down the road," Quinn answered. "There's bound to be something we can use inside."

"Fine. We're coming with you—"

"No, stay here with the girl," Quinn demanded. "This is a one-man job. I know this town like the back of my hand. I can get in, and get out fast. You and her are liabilities— you two will only slow me down."

Quinn snatched his arm from Marcus' clutches, and made his departure.

"Fuck…" Marcus muttered under his breath. He let out a long, drawn-out sigh, and sunk into his booth seat, closing his eyes.

I studied him intently. His jaw was clenched, and his body was visibly tense, remaining perfectly still. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his complexion had become slightly pale. I had a feeling something was wrong with him, but I wasn't sure if he wanted to be bothered. Should I disturb him? It was the least I could do, he protected me from the killers, and even went out of his way to tend to my wounds.

He and I had history, I couldn't explain how because I had no memory of it. Bits and snippets of my past were returning to me though, I could reminisce about the hackerspace, and my friends, Josh and Wrench, but whenever I tried to recall Marcus, I drew blanks. But my gut was telling me to trust him. He claimed we were more than friends… how could I forget something like that?

"Marcus?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Are you okay?"

"I have to be," he murmured weakly, eyes still closed. "I can make it…"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Promise you'll tell the truth?"

"Mhmm," he sighed. "Cross my heart, and hope to die."

"Are you really who you say you are? Are we really… together?"

His eyes finally opened. He gazed at me, and preformed a slow, sluggish nod. "I wouldn't lie about that."

I noticed tears brimming on his eyelashes. He attempted to blink it away, but a single tear escaped, and rolled down his cheekbone. I felt a weight on my chest watching him cry. "You don't look okay," I mumbled.

"I'm good, there's somethin' in my eye," he sniffed. "Don't sweat it."

"You promised you wouldn't lie."

Marcus didn't respond. He sat there in silence, his hand clenched tightly to his abdomen. There was blood on his hoodie, a lot of it. It was scary…

"Did you hurt your stomach?" I asked. "Is that why you're so sad? Or, is it because people are trying to kill us?"

"Honestly, I…" He paused, a pained grunt escaped his lips, followed by a series of shuddering breaths. Soon enough, he regained his composure, becoming perfectly still again. "Have you ever been so tired, but you can't sleep?"

"Like insomnia?"

"No, I could sleep if I wanted to. I could end it, just be gone forever… you have no idea how bad I want to, girl." A weak smile formed on his face. "Could you imagine? No more pain, no more mistakes, no more fighting."

"You can't sleep yet." I squeezed his shoulder. "I need your help. I don't think I can make it out of this without you."

"I know baby, that's why I'm still here. If it weren't for you…" He sighed. "I'm scared to become a memory, because I know memories fade, and after that, there's nothing—"

I pressed a finger to his full lips. "Please, don't say stuff like that, okay?"

He took my hand into his, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "My bad, forget I said anything. I didn't…"

His voice trailed off, and silence reclaimed the bar. My eyes watered, as his dreary thoughts replayed in my head. Something came over me at that very moment, a mixture of sympathy, fear and desire emerged from my gut, and I found myself reaching out to him. There was nothing I could say or do to ease his despair, but I embraced him anyway, desperately hoping that I could provide some comfort. Even if it was the tiniest bit, it was worth it.

Marcus flinched, caught off guard by the hug. He grinned, his arms settled around my waist and he snuggled me close. I nuzzled my face in his broad chest, and listened to his calm heartbeat. His calm, steady breaths, and the warmth of his body warded off my fear. I smiled, loving the way my loneliness hastily dispersed, and faded away in his gentle embrace.

"Promise me you won't give up," I clasped his hand. "You have to keep fighting."

"You and me against the world," he replied. "Forever and always."

I cringed, the words 'forever and always' sparked a colossal chain of memories to flash through my mind. I finally remembered him— from the fateful, starry night on the beach where I finally met RetrO, the Home Domain Awareness hacker face to face, to the terrible accident we had on the expressway in search of Wrench. I remembered the long nights we spent cuddled in one another's arms, and all the tantalizing kisses we shared, as well as the arguments, and the numerous pitfalls we endured together.

The memories were so vivid, it felt like I was experiencing it all over again. Some memories evoked much stronger feelings than others, like the rainy day he admitted his fondness for me, and the intimate night we spent at my apartment after he awoke from his coma. Warmth radiated through my body, I felt so happy and excited, I could barely think straight.

"Marcus!" I captured his gorgeous face and began planting a flurry of kisses all over his cheeks and forehead. "I feel the same way," I spoke between each kiss. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Let's save Wrench and then get married, okay?"

He beamed. "Whoa, what's gotten into you? You've gone and lost your damn mind, girl."

"Shut up and take it, dweeb." I continued assaulting his face with my lips. "You are so perfect!"

"Stoooop," Marcus whined cutely, his beautiful brown skin flushed. "The sweetness, I can't take it."

"You're a strong man, you can take this, and so much more."

"Mmm, that sounds naughty."

I abruptly stopped kissing him, and cupped his chin, forcing him to look at me. "Wanna know my favorite memory of you?"

"Hell yeah I do."

My voice lowered to a whisper. "Remember that naughty thing we did together?"

Marcus gazed at me quizzically. "Uh, which thing?"

"You know…" I smirked slyly. "The dirty thing."

"You talkin' about the time you convinced me to spank that Russian dude with a butt paddle?" He grinned. "That was great, one of the many highlights of my life. You still have that paddle, by the way?"

"No, you dweeb. I mean the thing you did to me, with your fingers."

"Oh yeah! How could I forget? You were so pissed when I gave you that wet willy."

I shook my head, Marcus was so clueless. It was the cutest thing.

"Hold up," he muttered. "Are you referring to a few nights ago, when we got all sexy at your apartment?"

"Yes, you finally figured it out, genius. When we get out of this, I want you to do that thing you did to me… you know, with your fingers."

"You don't have to make it sound so awkward," Marcus grinned. "But sure, I got you girl, it's easy. All you gotta do is stroking motions over and over, while flicking your thumb occasionally, and if you wanna get fancy, you can include some plucking into the formula—"

I gasped. "You were plucking me? Seriously?"

Marcus cackled loudly. His goofy laughter was so contagious, I started chuckling too. We sat there for a good minute, snickering like hyenas.

"Damn, it hurts to laugh," Marcus muttered.

"Hang in there, stud," I replied. "We're so close to getting Wrench back."

"Assuming Quinn comes back, yeah. At least you're back to normal though." His expression grew somber. "That period of amnesia you had sucked. Even though it wasn't your fault, it hurt to become nothing but a stranger to you."

"I'm so sorry," my hands smoothed over his muscular arms, caressing them gently. "I never meant to hurt you."

He cupped my chin, and peered into my eyes searchingly. I stared back into his, admiring the faint hues of amber within his smoldering, brown gaze. My palms suddenly grew uncomfortably sweaty, and my insides tingled. Unable to hold together my composure, I crumbled beneath the intensity of his stare, nervous giggles escaped my lips, like a giddy teenage girl. He was the only man able to so easily tear down my walls with his stare alone. It was so embarrassing.

He was well aware of the effect he had on me, an amused smile played across his full lips. He leaned in, and silenced my nervous laughter with a kiss. It was slow and clinging, the caress of his lips so soft and warm, and comforting in ways words never could. Every problem and worry plaguing my mind melted away as our breaths mingled.

Marcus let out a low, pleased murmur, before reluctantly breaking the kiss. We refused to let one another go however. He captured me in his strong embrace and I clung to his muscular body. We knew that at any moment we could lose one another forever— the stakes were high, and being a member of DedSec was becoming more dangerous and dangerous by the day. Tomorrow wasn't promised, so we continued to hold one another, cherishing the moment, well aware that it could be our last.

The bar entrance abruptly swung open. Josh appeared, his hands raised high above his head, with Quinn at his heels, holding him at gunpoint. I stared incredulously at him. What was he friggin' doing here? How did he find us?

"Josh!" Marcus and I exclaimed in unison.

"A friend of yours?" Quinn asked, lowering his weapon.

I scrambled out of the booth, and pulled Josh into a hug. He was absolutely terrified, tears rushed down his face, and he trembled uncontrollably.

"Asshole," I glared at Quinn. "Why the Hell did you pull a gun on him?"

"I found him nosing around the bar, looking for a way in," Quinn responded casually. "Naturally, I assumed he was a threat, so I drew my gun. Once he realized I had spotted him, he started shaking, howling and wheezing madly, like a wild animal. And then he fainted. I didn't have the heart to pull the trigger after that. He seemed harmless, so I waited for him to regain consciousness, and led him here."

"Thank God," I stroked Josh's head gently. "You're okay now, Josh. Everything is going to be fine."

Marcus appeared behind him, and squeezed his shoulder lightly. "Yeah, don't worry man," Marcus said, his tone soothing and soft. "We got you. It's all good."

Josh clutched my sweater, and buried his face in my chest as he sobbed.

Quinn cleared his throat awkwardly. "Pardon me for interrupting but…" He waved a large pair of red bolt cutters high in the air. "I pillaged the hardware store and acquired the loot without a hitch. Shall we continue on our quest? We've wasted quite a bit of time already."

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