CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
closer

"I hate this weather."

Mitch glanced up at the sound of Angeline's voice. He hadn't really been expecting her to talk, considering how quiet she had been for the past couple of hours. She had her legs curled up on the seat, a huge jumper on and some biker shorts as she leaned her head against the window. Rain lashed down on it, trickling down and making them both grateful that this car happened to have heated seats.

"I like it," Mitch replied.

The brunette furrowed her brows. "I will never understand how anybody could like the rain. Look how miserable it is. It makes my skin itch, it ruins your hair, and it's cold and just... ruins everything."

Mitch shrugged from the driver's seat, both his hands on the wheel as he drove through the empty, meandering roads. All that had surrounded them for miles were trees. So many trees.

"It can also be relaxing," Mitch said, "It can be a relief after weeks of hot weather, or sometimes..." He hesitated. "Sometimes falling asleep to the sound of it is nice."

"If I wanted to be relaxed, I'd smoke some weed," Angeline replied, one finger moving up to follow a slipping raindrop down the window. "I don't care what you say. It's the reason I chose Cali over London. Rain reminds me of... wet shoelaces whacking your ankles or having to get your school uniform on the radiator as soon as you get home because it's drenched and you have to wear it again in the morning where - oh, look - surprise! It's still raining."

Mitch hummed. "How depressing."

Angeline wished he'd stop being sarcastic and maybe add something to the conversation so she'd stop thinking about Zimmerman's lifeless body on top of her, but Mitch seemed more concentrated on the road ahead. At the same time, however, it looked like he could do this with his eyes closed.

"I've never been a very good driver," Angeline admitted, "I could never focus properly. I'd be like 'which side of the road am I meant to be on again?' and then forget which is left and which is right, by which point I'm like 'I should change gears' and then I'm like 'which gear am I in so I know which one to change it to?' and then I've hit the curb."

The corner of Mitch's lips twitched upwards ever so slightly, but he still didn't look at her. Something stirred in Angeline's stomach at the sight.

"Once this is all over, I am definitely referring you to somebody that can test you for ADHD," the dark-haired replied.

"Do you think I really have it?" Angeline frowned a little bit, moving her head from the window.

"I'm not a psychiatrist, but I'm nearly a hundred percent certain," Mitch said.

There was silence as Angeline considered his words. She hummed to herself, reaching forwards and turning up the radio a little bit. It was eighties music playing, something by The Police, so she didn't bother to spend ages fiddling with it until she found a station that she liked. She was pretty sure that would piss Mitch off and pull him out of the decent mood he seemed to be in.

Which Angeline didn't understand, by the way.

Wasn't he supposed to be angry at her? Furious, even? She'd just killed a man. An ex-colleague of his, in fact. Yet they'd only remained at the safe house for a few more hours as Mitch took phone call after phone call whilst Angeline remained cooped up in Mitch's bedroom, curled on his bed and hugging her knees to her chest as she tried not to replay what had happened over and over again in her head.

The sun was rising when some strange van pulled up on the driveway. Angeline made the mistake of watching it out of the window, her entire being freezing when she saw some men taking Zimmerman's body bag out, moving it into the back. She had yet another panic attack which Mitch managed to help her from when he came up and found her freaking out again.

"They don't need to question me?" Angeline had asked him once she'd calmed down and was sipping slowly on the glass of water he'd handed her. "I'm not... in trouble?"

"No," Mitch replied as he moved to look out of the window, his broad back to her from where she sat on his bed. "I told them you were too traumatised to answer any questions. They saw security footage from your bedroom. It was enough."

"Did you see the footage?" Angeline asked worriedly - as if she thought he would look at her differently.

"I did," Mitch replied, turning to face her finally. "It was obvious what you had to do. Big six foot five man like that attacking you with a gun... It's impressive that you're the one that made it out alive, quite honestly."

Now that her head was slightly less foggy as she sat in the passenger seat of Mitch's car, Angeline was glad that they only looked at the footage of her bedroom. Knowing they'd seen her naked cringed her out a little bit, but at least they hadn't seen what had gone on in the dining room and the gym that late morning.

She pursed her lips together at the memory, her dark eyes gliding over to Mitch again. They trailed from his face down to his lap, and then his arms. Angeline decided she really liked his arms - strong and veiny, though his fingers were long and slim. He had big hands - Angeline distinctively recalled thinking it the very first time they met, when he shook hers.

Angeline swallowed and glanced away from him. Her mind kept going back to Zimmerman. No matter what else she tried to think about, it was like the image was burned into her brain. And the sensation too - the blood dripping onto her own naked body, the way he'd strangled her until she was spluttering and her eyes were burning.

She moved her hand up to her neck, wincing as she touched bruises. Her fingertips brushed over them, almost like her brain was telling her that she needed to remind herself that those were there. Suddenly, the thought of a dead man's fingerprints bruised onto her made her feel ill.

Angeline looked around the car quickly. She wanted something - anything - to talk to Mitch about. The car was spotless. All that surrounded them were trees. But then, in the middle of the road right ahead of them, a man. Zimmerman.

"Mitch, stop!" Angeline cried, grabbing his wrist that had been resting on the gearstick.

The slightly older man hit the brakes quickly, the car coming to an immediate stop that caused the seat belt to burn against Angeline's bruises.

"What?" Mitch yelled, grabbing her shoulder and checking her over, his other hand ghosting for the gun resting in between them. "What is it?"

Angeline's parted lips began to tremble when she realised that there was now nobody in the middle of the road. There was no Zimmerman, no person at all, in fact. She felt like she was going insane, tears quickly filling her eyes. She released a shaky sob.

"I'm sorry." She hid her head into her hands. "I - I thought I saw - I thought I saw -"

Mitch's panicked expression faded, a small sigh of his own leaving his lips. She thought he was going to dismiss her, mutter something rude or make her feel small like her father would, but instead she felt hands on her own. He peeled them away from her face, forcing her to look at him. His hazel eyes were stern yet... There was something else there. Angeline didn't know if it was sympathy or something else, but it was unlike him.

"It's okay," Mitch reassured her for what was probably the hundredth time that day. "He is not coming back, alright? We're both perfectly fine right now."

Angeline swallowed harshly, nodding slowly along with him. "I just - I've never had that happen to me before. I was trying to - to distract myself - I couldn't. I just keep thinking of it."

Mitch's tongue darted out to trace his bottom lip for a moment. He looked like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. They sat there for a few moments. Mitch watched her breathing return back to normal and then he switched the engine of the car back on. Angeline's heart sank a little - she could have done with a little bit more reassurance if she was being perfectly honest. But then again, she was the hugger, not him.

"That nightmare I had the other night," Mitch spoke after a minute of driving in silence, his body stiff and his jaw nearly clenched as he burned holes into the road. "It was about my family."

Angeline realised that maybe he was trying to distract her, take her mind off of it. The 'Milly' he'd been screaming about must have been a sister or a cousin or something.

"Mitch..." Angeline frowned, feeling her heart thud quickly in her chest. "You don't have to tell me this."

"I dreamt of their bodies for months after," Mitch admitted, his voice giving nothing away. "I could barely stomach a whole meal for weeks. And I'm actually sorry I screamed at you for trying to help me. I've..." He trailed off.

Angeline was silent, waiting for him to finish. All she could hear was them and the rain.

"I've never had help before," Mitch said.

She was pretty sure he hadn't said it to make her cry, but tears were brimming her eyes again. She refused to let him see, turning her head to the side a little and wiping them as they fell.

"I forgive you," Angeline replied, "I just... Dunno. Just wanted to help."

"I appreciate it," he said, his voice warm, and he carried on talking before any more silence could go by. "So... Cali over London for the weather, huh?"

Angeline wasn't sure if he was trying to distract her from her macabre thoughts of Zimmerman or trying to change the subject of his nightmare. Perhaps it was a mix of the two.

"London's smaller than you'd think," Angeline replied, "By the time I was fourteen, I just knew I couldn't be stuck there anymore. In that snobby school in that wretched uniform with all of those posh twats. I'd seen all the coming of age films - American high school looked cool."

Mitch released a loud, mocking scoff that sounded a bit like a laugh. "Right," he said sarcastically. "Well those were just movies."

"It wasn't what I was expecting it to be," Angeline said, "But still better than that place back in London. A lot more chill... No uniform... Beach parties once a month..."

Mitch huffed. "I'd say your experience of American high school was a bit different to the average experience, considering the school you went to."

"It was nice, wasn't it?" Angeline smiled a little as she thought of her school and what she'd do to be walking through the halls with Paige and Ciara right now. "Except there were lots of bitchy people there. Principal was a dickhead, too."

Mitch remembered the principal from the time he'd had to go and pick her up after she'd been excluded for a week. He had seemed rather pretentious, but Angeline had given him a run for his money with her big mouth. It had been mildly amusing.

"He was," Mitch replied, absentmindedly tapping his fingers across the steering wheel. "There's meant to be a gas station a few miles up. We can stop there and get something to eat."

Angeline realised she hadn't eaten since breakfast twenty-four hours ago. She nodded in agreement before reaching forwards and turning up the radio a little bit. It was some really old song from the seventies that Angeline wasn't familiar with.

"Too bad you don't have an aux cord," Angeline huffed, "I was always in charge of that in Paige's car - since I wasn't allowed to drive, you know. My Spotify was immaculate. You name an occasion, I have the perfect playlist for it."

Mitch furrowed his brows. "Yeah? What were you into?"

"Guess."

The dark-haired man glanced across at her and looked her up and down briefly as if they hadn't spent the past week cooped up together.

"One Direction."

Angeline scoffed loudly, pulling a face. "That's kind of misogynistic of you to just assume that!" She sent him a small glare before it faded into a smile. "What gave it away?"

Mitch chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "Just a guess. I don't know what teenage girls listen to."

"Well, they're not all I listen to, but I was pretty obsessed with them from the age of, like, nine until I was fifteen or something," Angeline admitted excitedly, "I actually voted for them on the X-Factor, you know. That's my biggest flex to date. Well, my mum did it for me - I was nine, but I had a crush on Harry - of course. And then he wrote a song about me."

Mitch's face screwed up. "Harry Styles wrote a song about you?"

Angeline had to admit that she was slightly amused that Mitch knew Harry Styles' full name - she couldn't imagine him listening to any kind of pop music. She bet he liked a bit of Arctic Monkeys, maybe some AC/DC or All Time Low. She couldn't imagine him just sitting back and, well... enjoying something as simple as music.

"Technically, no... But I did see them in concert when I was thirteen at the O2 Arena and I got really good seats, obviously, and I'm pretty sure I made eye contact with Harry Styles and he must have fell in love with me because there's this song on his first solo album called 'Only Angel', so yeah," Angeline grinned.

"He fell in love with you when you were thirteen?" Mitch deadpanned, "And he never spoke to you, but he knew your name, and he wrote you a song."

"Yeah, basically." Angeline beamed before she rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Mitch. Don't be so stuck up. Live this fantasy with me. Ciara plays along - it's just a joke, but I'm manifesting it. It will happen, I swear it."

"Right." Mitch didn't play along. "Well, other than One Direction, what else do you listen to?"

Angeline wasn't sure if he'd even be talking to her right now if she hadn't had a breakdown a few minutes ago. She was pretty sure he was just forcing himself to try and get to know her on a deeper level to take her mind off of Zimmerman. It mostly worked, despite the intrusive thoughts leaking back in at times.

"Lots of stuff," Angeline replied, "I was really into Florence + The Machine before all of this happened. God, what I'd do to get my phone back and just listen to her Ceremonials album."

Their conversation was brief yet continued on until Mitch made it to the gas station. He got out to fill the car, Angeline's eyes glancing around wearily as she recalled what had happened last time she'd been left alone whilst he was getting petrol. His knuckles rapped on the window and Angeline opened the door, silently following him out into the shop.

"Can I look around?" She asked.

Mitch looked a bit apprehensive but craned his neck around, seeing nobody else in the shop apart from the worker who was an overweight old man, his feet propped up on the desk as he snored away.

"Go ahead," Mitch murmured.

She watched him go to the opposite side of the store and she moved over to where there were some magazines and books. Out of instinct, she began to pile everything that appealed to her into her arms before she remembered she did not have her card on her. It would be Mitch that would be paying, and he wasn't exactly the daughter of a multimillionaire.

She put a few back, but figured it wouldn't hurt him to splurge a little bit. She bet it wasn't even his money that he was spending, probably the CIA's or something. It made her feel better. Angeline drifted towards the health section, grabbing a box of tampons in case her period came earlier, alongside some more lip balm since hers was running out.

"Angeline?" Mitch called quietly from the other side. "Where are you?"

"Back here," she called, "Just coming."

Angeline was about to leave when her eyes caught sight of a range of blue boxes on shelves next to all of the other cheap cosmetics and medicines. She bit her lip, her heart skipping a beat as she hesitated. She reached out and crammed the box into the oversized jumper that she was wearing, adjusting it so that it wouldn't be seen.

Maybe she'd end up using them, maybe not.

When she reached Mitch, she put on her signature smile and dumped all of her books and magazines and the tampons and lip balm into his arms. He looked slightly horrified as he glanced down at it all.

"Are all of these things necessary?" He questioned.

Angeline beamed at him. "Yep. One hundred percent. Thanks, Mitch."

Mitch grumbled something beneath his breath before he placed it all on the counter, dropping it dramatically so that the old man jumped awake. He blinked, his white eyelashes barely opening before they widened in surprise. Angeline was sure he barely got any customers considering he was located in the middle of nowhere.

"Yeah, all this and the gas, thanks," Mitch told him.

Angeline fiddled with the packs of gum sat by the lottery tickets and didn't really think before she grabbed a pack and threw it on top of the pile of the other things she wanted Mitch to get her. She was pretty sure she saw his eye twitch.

"You want anything else while we're here?" Mitch said sarcastically, "Want one of those candy bars while you're at it? How about one of those cases of beer?"

The old man looked between them in slight amusement as he scanned the items.

"Well, that's ridiculous because I'm not even legal in the US to buy alcohol," Angeline replied matter of factly. "And besides, I don't like any of the chocolate here. You know, my favourite chocolate was this bar called Yorkie, but I only used to eat them when I was younger because the picture on the front had a woman crossed out on it and their whole advertisement was that women couldn't handle them, so of course, naturally, I ate them. I actually strongly believe that that was when I realised that I was a feminist because as soon as they stopped advertising them like that, I wasn't even interested in them anymore."

The old man stopped scanning for a moment, staring at her. Mitch sighed heavily. "Ignore her. She's English - you know what they're like. Love the sound of their own voices so they never stop talking."

Angeline glared at him slightly as the man laughed with Mitch before the assassin paid for their things and they left.

He placed the bag on the backseat of the car as they climbed inside, but tossed her one of the yogurt pots she liked to have for breakfast. Angeline snapped the plastic spoon off of the side and immediately began to eat as Mitch took off down the road.

"I actually got you some stuff too," Mitch said after a few minutes.

Angeline had finished with her breakfast as she looked up at him. "You did?"

"Mhm. Check the bag," Mitch replied.

The brunette leaned backwards and grabbed the bag off of the seat, doing as she was told. She shuffled through it, finding a puzzle book in there. Her brows knitted together in confusion as she flipped through the pages.

"You might find that it distracts you," Mitch said, "All of the brain teasers and stuff in there. You're clearly bad at focusing on one thing, but it might do the trick for a bit."

Angeline smiled a little at the thought. "Thanks, Mitch."

He hesitated. "There's another thing in there."

Angeline dug around more, her hand landing on a CD. She yanked it out, a gasp leaving her lips before she began to laugh in a mixture of surprise and happiness.

"The Harry Styles album?" She grinned, nearly biting on her bottom lip as she quickly worked to get the plastic wrapping off of it. "Jesus Christ, Mitch. I - I don't know what to say. Thank you so much."

Mitch Rapp had just bought her a Harry Styles CD for their car journey after she told him she liked it.

Yep. She was definitely going to be using those condoms that she stole earlier.

...

angeline: kills someone
also angeline, less than 24 hours later: stealing condoms so she can get laid

this chapter was a bit of a filler, but i feel like it was important to show how they're getting closer and warming up to each other. Which is good considering we're 23 chapters in lol

also I started a yt channel + here is POV: mitch rapp is assigned to protect you,, and it's also based on this book.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

thanks so much for reading <33 

word count: 3.4k

Dyiansobrien.