Chapter 390: Bathroom Break Gone Wrong (part 2)
Clyde paced around the security room, mind buzzing with possibilities. First, Micah would never leave him alone here, not after what happened last night. So, the possibility of Micah walking out of the restaurant on his two feet, willingly, was out of the question.
The most logical assumption was that someone had taken Micah. And probably someone related to him, perhaps his rival? His enemy? Someone who recognised Clyde and noticed Micah, albeit assuming he was a girl, thinking he could use him as leverage?
His eyes flashed with ice. "Bring me the guest list," he barked at the manager.
Clyde skimmed the list of reservations with practiced speed, his eyes sharp, searching for familiarity. Line after line blurred together. Until...
"Alex Ford."
It sounded familiar. Where did he hear it?
He fell into thought. He tapped the page with a stiff finger. "This one. Who is he? How many with him? Is he a regular?"
The manager blinked nervously. "Uhh... he was with a man and two women... not a regular, sir."
Before Clyde could respond, another subordinate rushed in, clutching a tablet. "Boss! We found external CCTV. Outside the restaurant. A waitress identified Alex Ford. And..."He flipped the screen around, showing footage.
Clyde’s gaze locked onto the face beside Alex Ford. Aidan Wilson.
His temples throbbed. Then it struck him... he recalled where he had heard the name before. From Micah. His expression turned cold. He was sure it was their doing. Aidan knew Asena, aka Micah’s female disguise.
Clyde’s teeth grit together. Anger flooded his mind, colliding with a sickening fear.
Why would he take him?
The situation seemed bad. There was no time to dwell. He quickly mobilised his men to find Aidan’s residence. He forced himself to breathe, to calm down the storm inside. He couldn’t let anger and concern drive him mad.
He couldn’t afford that. Not now.
He needed to stay sharp to be able to find Micah quickly.
*****
Inside the car, the air was thick with the faint scent of leather and cologne. Micah sat stiffly in the backseat, his body pressed into the corner as if minimising his presence. His eyes darted between the two men, the driver with his hands locked on the wheel, jaw set in silence, and Aidan in the passenger seat, his profile sharp.
Every nerve in Micah’s body screamed at him to thrash, to kick, to pound on the windows until they shattered, making a fuss until he got away from Aidan. But the confined space was a trap, with no opening, no chance that wouldn’t end with his ribs shattered worse than they already were. Yes, struggling right now would only make things worse for him.
He swallowed down a groan, lips pressing thin. In a faltering, high-pitched tone, the feminine voice of his disguise, he asked. "Where are you taking me? I need to go back...."
Aidan turned his head, eyes raking over him with unreadability. "We are going somewhere safe. After you tell me the truth, I’ll send you abroad. Far away from this mess."
Micah stared, mouth parting, disbelief written all over his face. He tilted his head, looking at him as if he had lost his mind. Safe? Did this lunatic even hear himself? He cursed all the Wilsons’ ancestors in his mind.
Well, what else could he expect from a deranged male lead? No one could understand how his mind worked. His whole brain was wired with obsession instead of logic and common sense.
He turned his face away, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek. The bitter metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
The most urgent problem now was Clyde. The man had been left behind in that restaurant without knowing what had happened to him. Micah’s eyes filled with worry. Clyde would lose control. He was sure of it. What should he do? He didn’t even have his phone with him. How to contact him?
After last night’s fiasco, how would Clyde cope if he lost him again? He had already shown signs of PTSD, trauma that Micah tried hard not to think about. Even if he found him now, Micah feared the man would never again be able to let him out of sight without breaking down.
Still, there was one silver lining. Clyde knew everything about his involvement with those four damned male leads. He certainly could guess what had happened with enough clues.
Yes. Micah pursed his lips. All he had to do was play the part... act like a clueless girl until Clyde found him.
Aidan looked at him through the rearview mirror, frowning. The girl was too quiet, too slow. Did they break her? Then what about that young man?
"Tell me, where is he?" Aidan said, his voice filled with anger.
Micah’s head snapped back toward him, silver hair swaying with the motion. His eyes widened, incredulous. This again?
How could someone be obsessed with a random guy, a stranger with whom he had exchanged a handful of text messages? He never even met him or heard his voice! Was he that love-deprived that a few polite words, a small goodwill from a stranger, could turn him into an obsessive lunatic?
But then came the question. How the hell was he supposed to answer Aidan? He couldn’t say he didn’t know what he was talking about, what if Aidan snapped and unleashed his fury on him?
Nor could he admit the truth... that he knew the young man... that he was the very same man who had crashed into Aidan’s car roof, then what? Meeting Aidan in person as Micah Ramsy?
Had he become so brave as to openly waltz in front of this lunatic? That wasn’t bravery. That was suicide.
He had already been on Aidan’s radar, left and right, being targeted. What would happen next if he discovered the truth?
Micah grimaced, his stomach twisting. Damn his own righteousness. Damn that stubborn streak that told him to repay Aidan for the damaged car roof. If he had been even a little less self-righteous, if he were an evil bastard, he would never have texted Aidan in the first place.