Chapter 393: Released, Not Free
The car moved, albeit aimlessly, through the half-empty streets, trapping Micah with the most dangerous male lead in a confined space.
Micah glanced out of the window, the empty roads made his heart sink. Where were they going? What exactly did this lunatic want to do with him? What if he locked him up? Demanding information on Clyde? Or his online chatty buddy aka himself?
Micah wouldn’t put it past him not to do it. Aidan Wilson, according to the novel, was perfectly capable of committing such sickening acts without batting an eye.
Micah’s hand began sweating, his body shivering. He was in a dilemma. What would happen to him? And what would happen to Clyde? Or his family? When they couldn’t find him anywhere?
The situation was getting out of hand. He knew he was overthinking, yet he was unable to stop his wandering mind, imagining the worst-case scenario.
Suddenly, Aidan’s voice broke the silence in the car, pulling Micah out of his thoughts.
"Do you have family that cares about you?" Aidan asked, forcing his voice to soften.
Micah met his gaze in the rearview mirror, then quickly lowered his head, pretending to be defensive.
Yet, inwardly, he wondered what new game Aidan was playing this time.
"What about friends? Hm?"
Micah didn’t answer. He didn’t have the energy to even fabricate some nonsense.
But Aidan didn’t get angry. Quite the opposite. A satisfied smile spread on his face. It was easier to manipulate her when she had no one. "Sorry," he said loudly, sighing with a tone of false sincerity. "Sorry, I dragged you here. When I saw your bruise, I was really shaken. It reminded me of my older sister. She was a domestic violence victim. Now, I think maybe I overreacted."
Micah gaped at him, unable to stop the incredulous look from breaking onto his face. What the hell? What nonsense he had imagined inside his head? Had Aidan just made up a tragic backstory for him?
Micah pursed his lips.
Aidan continued, his voice almost sickeningly gentle. "I saved my number in your phone. If you need help, contact me. But if you could let me see that young man, I promise I will repay you, with money or anything you want."
There was a pause. "Where do you want to go? We’ll drop you off."
Micah clasped his hands together in his lap, fingers digging into each other. There was no way this was a genuine kindness. Or an epiphany, Aidan finding his own conscience and letting him go like this. He was one hundred per cent sure there was a tracker in the phone. Aidan easily let him go? No, there was something fishy.
"Back to the restaurant," he whispered.
Aidan nodded casually, as though the answer didn’t matter. He told Alex to turn around and quickly return as if it wasn’t him who had abducted this timid girl, carrying Micah like a sack of potatoes out of the restaurant.
The drive back stretched like an eternity. Micah’s chest rose and fell in shallow uneven breaths, worried this lunatic would change his mind any second. Ten minutes later, the car slowed in a narrow alley behind the restaurant.
"Here," Aidan said smoothly, producing a small black card from his pocket. He extended it toward him with two fingers. "This is a spare card. Use it if you need money. And...When that young man contacts you..." His voice sharpened, voice turning firm. "... let me know."
Micah took the card, scoffing inwardly. He bet inside that the bank card had less money for even his haircut. This scrooge would never spend money on a total stranger.
He forced a nod, then opened the door with shaky legs. He was ready to be pulled back into the car in any second, yet the door was clicked shut behind him. His sneakers tapped unevenly against the pavement as he climbed out.
Aidan’s gaze followed his retreating back, a smirk on his face. "Have you bugged it?" he whispered without looking at Alex.
"Yes, sir. And also her WeChat account is accessible." Alex replied.
"Good. Let’s go then." Aidan murmured, leaning back in his seat.
The car rolled away, blending into the traffic.
Meanwhile, Micah leaned heavily against the cold brick wall, each step unsteady. His chest heaved, exhaustion and dread filling every muscle. Now that he was free from Aidan’s grasp, his tense nerves relaxed, and the fear fell away into his mind.
It was too much... too stimulating mentally, too crushing physically. He felt drained.
In his mind, Micah was praying Clyde would still be here.
He turned the corner, heart beating loudly with hope. Then his eyes landed on the empty space where their car had been parked earlier. Shit. Clyde had left.
His expression dropped, hollow and blank. Without his mask, without his cap, and with his stained blouse, he looked like something out of a horror movie. People who passed gasped, their eyes widening, some even jumped seeing him.
Micah lowered his head, hiding behind the strands of his wig. His lips trembled.
He thought maybe he should get a taxi and leave. But where should he go?
His fingers brushed the phone in his hand. Should he throw it away? Get rid of it? Smash it against the wall?
But no. He stopped himself. This could be a good opportunity to trap Aidan. He could use it to deal with him. Turn his own schemes against him.
Yet, this wasn’t important now.
Clyde. He needed Clyde. Where was he? Was he okay? How could he contact him? Should he ask a passerby for their phone? Wouldn’t they think he was a scammer noticing the phone in his hand? His eyes darted around, searching for answers.
He wished he had superpowers, something like telepathy. Contacting Clyde. Telling him to come pick him up. He was at his wits’ end. He couldn’t hold on any longer.
Micah wrapped his hands around himself as he tried to stop the shivering. He felt cold, yet his inside scorched hot.