"Holy shit." The sudden sound of a voice behind us caused us both to jump. My heart caught in my throat, still beating hard in my ears. I was nauseous as I tried to understand what just happened. Millie somehow wandered out there too, but I had no idea when she joined.

All I meant to do was see if Sam was alright.

Why did I choose right then of all times to be the bigger person?

"Holy shit is an understatement." As though coming alive all at once, I looked at Sam angrily. "What the fuck just happened?"

He didn't say anything right away, only staring at where that man had stood, then the direction his car sped off in. It was beyond clear that Sam was involved in something that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. And just like that, it was my life on the line too. How did things escalate so quickly? I was too petrified to think rationally and get the hell out of there before it was too late.

"Sam?" I shoved him lightly, needing him to snap out of whatever trance was drowning him. There was shit that needed to be explained, and I needed to understand the repercussions to my actions. There were too many questions I needed answers to, and the worst part was that I had to extract them all from the person I detested most.

"Fuck off." He shoved me back, as though being angry with me was the only motivation to move.

"Are you just going to stand there like a douchebag, or are you going to start talking?" I yelled at him. I didn't know what else to do other than get angry with him like I always did.

"You are truly the biggest moron on this planet." He rubbed his eyes briefly, trying to channel some of his hatred into a deep breath. Then he released it, opened his eyes back up and frowning once he saw that we were still standing there expectantly.

"I don't understand." Millie just looked between us, worry in her eyes. "I went to use the bathroom, and when I came back out that car was leaving again. What happened?"

"So you didn't see any of it?" Sam allowed his eyes to fall on her, as if noticing her presence for the first time. Millie had never seemed so small, standing next to the door like a scared child. I felt awful, but I couldn't exactly explain anything to her when I didn't know what was going on either.

"Not really." She shook her head.

"Then I'm going to need you to go home by yourself, and Sawyer will have to come with me." Sam said with a scowl on his exhausted face. He was clearly fuming at the fact that I had just gotten myself thrown into his mess, but what else could he do? Unless one of us could build a time machine and stop myself from following after him that night, things were simply going to be that way.

My skin crawled.

We'll be watching you from now on.

What did that mean? Exactly what kind of people did Sam have an affiliation with? What was going to happen next?

"What?" Millie looked at me, expecting me to protest.

I did. "Why the fuck would I go with you?"

"Because!" Sam yelled, beyond frustrated with me. He never looked so tired before, skin pale, eyes wide. I was pretty sure that he was fighting himself to not completely rip me to shreds. "You're a fucking idiot who decided to get involved in some deep shit! So now I have to figure out how to fix this. Thanks so much for being a royal pain in my ass."

"Me? I'm the royal—"

Before I could say anything else, he just rolled his eyes and grabbed my sleeve. I gasped as he dragged me towards his car that was far too expensive for someone that young and reckless. I tugged against his grip, and he flashed the most rage-induced expression I had ever seen. It was clear that if I fought harder, he was going to wring my neck.

He finally let go when I was standing at the passenger side, walking around the car. I just stood there like an idiot, not knowing what was the right thing to do. Maybe there was something important he needed to tell me, and that was why he was trying to take me with him.

My eyes fell upon where Millie stood helplessly across the parking lot, just staring at me dejectedly. I really didn't want to leave her. But then that voice replayed in my head again. We'll be watching you from now on. If I wasn't careful, maybe Millie would end up involved too. That was an awful thought, so I nodded to her in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. Then I climbed into the car.

It smelt of lavender — courtesy of the flower-shaped air freshener hanging from his rear-view mirror — and the interior was incredibly clean. With white leather seats and only a few belongings strewn about, it was generally neat and untouchable.

As soon as I opened the door, I saw the vulnerable state that Sam was in. His hands were clutching the steering wheel until his knuckles turned paper-white. His forehead was resting against the cold leather as he took in slow, long breaths. It was the first time I ever saw him so distressed.

Ever since we met, he was always confident and laidback. His gait, his style, his speech, his smirk. It was startling to watch as all of that fell away, leaving him shaking with frustration. Whatever was running through his mind right then, I didn't dare to speak a word. He was probably going to personally skin me alive if I did.

It was tempting, I had to admit that much. But even I knew that he was dealing with something I could never quite understand, and it was not the time to tease him.

Finally, he leaned back in his chair until he was gazing at the ceiling of his car. It was dark, the only real light being what flooded in through the windshield. It was tainted teal by the diner's sign, casting his face in a low glow.

"So..." I mumbled. "About the whole being watched thing."

Sam sent me a death-glare, but then his features slowly softened the longer that he looked at me. Maybe he saw just how terrified I actually was, which was as embarrassing as it sounded. But what was I supposed to do? Pretend that I didn't have to fear for my life?

"It's a long story." Sam's eyes drifted to the windshield, and he rubbed at his chin with the back of his hand. The blood from his lips was dried to his skin.

"If it offers some clarity as to what the fuck might happen to me, I'll make time."

"Could you not be a smart-ass for five fucking seconds?"

And just like that, we were back to bickering.

"I don't know what crazy shit you get up to in your free time, but I don't exactly enjoy having to stare death in the eyes. Literally."

"He wasn't going to kill you."

"And you're sure of that?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

"For fuck's sake." I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. Even though I was screaming inside, because that was not at all the response I was hoping for, I tried to mask it with simple annoyance.

"Just..." He started, then tried again. "Just shut up for five seconds and let me explain."

As much as I wanted to disrupt him simply for the sake of being an asshole, I pushed the urge down and waited impatiently for him to speak.

It took a few seconds, but he eventually did.

"The short version is that my father owns an investment firm, which can obviously be a risky business. He used to be the co-owner with this guy named Rick, who was kind of a prick to begin with." He began. "The business went severely in debt, and in order to make back some of the lost profits, Rick took it upon himself to start working with local gangs to launder hard drugs."

I blinked, trying to process how stupid a man had to be to involve himself in something like that.

"Rick got caught, put in jail, and my dad bought his share out from under him. In no time with proper caution, he was able to get the business out of rocky waters and things were going good. Then Rick got out of jail, and he was beyond pissed off at what happened while he was away. Flash forward to these past few weeks when Rick had his gang break into our house, trash the place, and attempt to steal our belongings. They didn't know that I was there until I tried to call the police.

"They stopped me, threatened my life, my parents' lives, and their business. They wouldn't relent until I was willing to give something in return. Their plan was to plant drugs in our house to bring my family down too. I had to do something."

My lips pursed as I waited for him to tell me what awful thing he agreed to, but he didn't say anything else. It only made me conjure up a million horrific possibilities that I didn't want to be true. Whatever Sam did, it was the reason that my life was suddenly on the line. That man who stood so close to me and gripped my sleeve, he was a member of a gang. A drug dealer, and god knows what else.

Goosebumps broke out on my skin.

"Sam, what did you do?" I asked nervously.

He turned his head towards the window. "I had to."

"Honestly? I'm sure there were other options, whatever it was." I snapped.

"What options do you think I had?" He scoffed. "You try being held at gunpoint and still think rationally. Because I'm sure you'd do so much better." Sarcasm dripped from his words like venom.

"The police." Even though he already mentioned that he tried to contact them, I found it hard to believe that it wasn't still possible.

"Are you fucking deaf or something? I tried, and I couldn't."

"What did you agree to do?" He still hadn't told me, and I couldn't bear to go without the answer. It was going to keep me awake that night if I didn't have it.

"To sell drugs for them."

His words were quiet, and I could tell that he was ashamed. There also seemed to be a mixture of trauma from whatever he must have seen. I didn't know half of what the past few months had been like for him, and I honestly wasn't going to ask. It was not my place as his rival to pry for more information.

My mind wandered to our past and the laundry list of mutual hatred that grew between us everyday. It was kind of disturbing to realize how much we probably knew about each other from constantly trying to find ways to exploit our personalities and personal problems. I knew what business his father ran, and I knew immediately that Sam's mental health was dwindling. I knew the way Sam looked when he was actually angry with me, versus when he was only amused.

And there were even a few times where I saw something vaguely similar to that despondent look in his eyes. The way he didn't want to admit what he did, or the person he was forced to be.

As much as I hated him, that wasn't the expression I wanted to see. There was nothing satisfying about earning such a depressing response.

"You've got to be kidding." I said because I honestly couldn't muster up any other words.

"Are you serious?" Finally, our gazes intertwined as he scowled at me. "You seriously think I'm making this up?"

"No, I don't. But you've got to acknowledge how insane that sounds."

Sam just shook his head at me, as though baffled by my stupidity. Which was something we could probably relate to from time to time.

"Just tell me your address." He muttered.

"But—"

"Sawyer." He never said my name like that before. When he addressed me it was usually more carefree. More lighthearted. That wasn't even remotely either of those things, it was something I wasn't used to from him.

That was a weird thought to have, because didn't we loathe each other? Wouldn't it have been more normal to expect him to speak my name with disdain? But somehow, I didn't. He never said it like that before.

So I forced my mouth to move, and I told him where I lived. It wasn't exactly something I was jumping for joy over, but I did it anyway because I was still sitting inside of his car. He had complete control over where we went, and it was better that it was to my house rather than literally anywhere else. I was exhausted, and ready for bed.

We didn't say anything the entire way, the tense atmosphere filling up both of our lungs until we were nearly suffocating. The static silence kept fueling the effort.

By the time he turned onto my street, I was practically ready to jump out of my seat and run to my bedroom — a safe haven I didn't think I would ever take for granted again. I tried not to think about my lower-middle class house as well, because even though I didn't think that Sam was the type to judge, his car was still probably worth more than everything I had ever owned combined. Plenty of people had far less than I ever would, but I still felt a twinge of insecurity as I hoped that he wasn't scrutinizing where I lived.

Wanting to get the fuck out of there, I reached for the door handle. Before it was even in my grasp, the lock clicked.

I huffed, turning to Sam. "What the fuck now? Don't you want to get rid of me?"

"Calm your ass." He said. "I need to make something clear."

I frowned. "What?"

"They weren't kidding. They're going to be watching you."

"What do you mean?" I had half-hoped that maybe it was only a bluff.

"I don't know how they do it, but they can find information on anyone. They'll be keeping a close eye on you, and for all we know that could lead to something far worse than just observation."

"Like what?" I felt pretty stupid, but I was sick and tired of the way he seemed to really like talking around subjects that would have been better dealt with if he just directly explained them.

Sam sighed. "Like the potential harming of you or your family. I don't know what motivates them to do the crazy shit they do, but I don't think that there really is a method to their madness."

"So you think my life might be on the line for your own stupidity." I deadpanned.

"No one asked you to follow me outside, so don't blame me in your suicide note." Then he held out his palm. "I'm going to need your phone number."

Without really thinking, I started to pull my phone out of my pocket. Then I stopped myself, realizing that he said something that definitely warranted more questions. "Why the hell do you need that?"

"I don't know, maybe because I'm trying to keep you from being murdered in your sleep. Forgive me for having a fraction of sentiment."

"And my phone number helps with that, how?"

"So that you can keep in contact with me in case shit hits the fan, or I can do the same with you. They're loose cannons, the least I can do is try to have some tether of control."

Not wanting to admit that he did make sense, I held out my phone and watched absentmindedly as he began to type his number in. My skin seemed to have gone numb, and my brain was lagging behind my perception.

Was he being serious? Was getting murdered in my sleep really a possibility? All because that man just so happened to see my talking to Sam at an admittedly bad time. No one could ever catch me attempting to be a good person again, because it was clearly not worth the outrageous risk.

He then logged my phone number into his, probably to make things easier since he knew that I wasn't going to reach out unless it was absolutely necessary.

When he was finished, we didn't exchange any more words. He just unlocked the door, and I stepped into the night.

About an hour passed before I received a text.

Sam Is Better Than You🖕:
Let me know if anything suspicious happens.

It was impossible to not get pissed off at the stupid name he decided to put in for himself, but a part of me appreciated the normalcy of such a petty insult. Still, I didn't even waste a second as I went to edit his contact.

Despite the brief relief, the nature of his text did not change. My life was still at risk, and from that point on I would become intrinsically tied to the person I hated most. Even if I didn't entirely understand it at the time.

All I knew was that our world was falling apart, and it was going to take us down with it.

•O•O•