I stomp down the path and used the spare key to fling open the front door. As soon as I get inside, Micah is waiting, leaning against the wall.

"Not today Micah," I grumble unhappily, heading for the kitchen. It's time to drown my sorrows in something sweet, maybe also savoury.

"Good afternoon to you too," Micah says sarcastically, following me inside the kitchen. He pulls back a chair and sits himself down onto it, his eyes trained onto me. I pull open the fridge and glare at the contents, reaching for the pot of hummus and carrot sticks.

"Can we talk?"

"Like personal talk or about the mission? I'm not up for either at the moment." I mumble, prying the lid off the hummus. I take a carrot stick and violently shovel some hummus onto it before popping it inside my mouth. Micah raises one eyebrow at me —

"I'm guessing your first day didn't quite go to plan?" He questions, lowering his voice a little. I roll my eyes, it didn't go to plan at all.

"Calvin Black knows I exist, he just hates my guts." I smile sarcastically before reaching for another carrot.

"What happened?" Micah asks, sitting up straighter at the mention of Calvin's name.

"Nothing revolutionary. He is so hard to crack, the boy is made of ice." I mumble. Micah nods slowly, reaching forward to swipe a carrot stick from the bag. He pops it into his mouth whole and chomps down on it, the crunch filling the silence between us.

"I found the last sighting of Christopher Black. It was on CCTV from the local bank, around two months ago. After that, nothing. It's like he vanished into thin air." Micah says, his eyebrows burrowed together with concentration. He lets out a deep sigh, running a hand over his face.

"It's only been one day Micah, you'll find him." I say quietly, giving him some confidence. He shoots me a grateful smile, nodding his head.

"Yeah, you're right. That's if you don't find him first."

I stand up and place the food back into the fridge, turning around.

"Considering how things are going between me and Calvin, I very much doubt that."

"Don't give up hope Hunter. You have charm, use it." Micah says, tapping away on his phone. I lean back against the counter, watching him for a few seconds with a small smile on my face.

"You think I have charm?"

He stops paying attention to his phone and pauses, glancing up to look at me. His expression is unreadable and I narrow my eyes, desperately searching for anything to show how he's really feeling. Nope. Nothing. The FBI did a good job when it came to training Micah Carter.

"Yeah, I do. Use it to your advantage." He responds bluntly, sounding serious. I sigh because I know he's acting like my mentor again.

"Okay Micah, whatever you say." I say over my shoulder as I head for my room. I can hear him tapping away at his phone again, fingers typing away rhythmically —

"I'm going to email over the CCTV footage! Make sure you view it!" He yells up after me and I groan, flipping him off even though he can't see me. Inside, it makes me feel better.

*****

I'm crouched in the corner of a dark dimly lit room. The air is thick with dust and grime and my heartbeat is pounding against my chest. I can hear, taste and smell the fear seeping out of my body, my hands trembling with fright.

"It's okay Hunter, shh Hunter." I soothe myself, my childlike voice timid and breathy. I wrap my arms around my shaking frame, trying desperately to keep myself warm. A cold gust of air blows around me, whirling round and round until it's taken over my entire body. I feel the cold invade the warmth, ripping it away from me until I'm left with nothing but fear. I let out a whimper, squeezing my eyes shut tightly.

"Don't hit me again, please." I whisper, reaching my hands up to my face. I begin screaming as a force pounds down into my tiny frame, the cracking noise of my bones echoing through my ears. I continue to scream, my face and body drowning in tears. My arms stretch out, failing around as they desperately try and find an escape route.

"Hunter! Hunter!"

My eyes snap open as I sit up straight in bed. Tears are streaming down my face and I'm hyperventilating, struggling to breathe. In front of me, Micah has a tight hold of my shoulders, pulling me towards his chest.

"It was just a dream, you're okay. I've got you." He murmurs, his dark eyes hooded over with an emotion I can't recognise. I squeeze my eyes shut and whimper, tears continuously rolling down my cheeks.

"You're okay, you're okay." Micah repeats over and over again, his voice soothing me into a relaxed state. My breathing begins to shallow out and the hold on my lungs loosens. Micah nods in encouragement, his hand stroking the back of my hair.

"That's it, breathe. You're doing great Hunter."

My body trembles with fright as flashbacks of the nightmare play over and over again in my brain, taunting me. I clutch onto Micah like my life depends on it, breathing in his comforting scent.

He smells like everything safe I've ever known.

"It was just a dream, you're okay." Micah murmurs in the dark, his hold on me never loosening. The tears begin drying on my cheeks as I sniffle, dropping back down to reality. I tug slowly to loosen myself from Micah's strong hold but he shakes his head, keeping a tight grip of me. My eyes squeeze shut again and I inhale, unable to stop the embarrassment from hitting me hard.

"I'm being a friend right now Hunter," he whispers, his hand tangling through my hair. I weakly nod, too tired and exhausted to protest against him. Even the strongest of us have our weaknesses, our fears.

Micah pushes me backwards gently until my back hits the blankets and I sink into the sheets, sighing. His grip loosens slightly but he drops down next to me, surprising me. I don't say a word as he settles beside me, one arm lazily draped over my waist.

"Go back to sleep," he whispers sleepily and I nod, my eyelids already growing heavy with his words. With his arm around me, I know I'm safe.

I fall back to sleep and this time, stay clear from any nightmares.