Only as it turned out, they couldn't. The moment they set foot inside the tunnels, a furious Mizrelle charged at them and started screaming her head off because they'd gone out without permission. Since Angie wasn't the target of this, she slinked away towards the infirmary.

It made Tom feel a bit better that she could get those scratches and burns looked at and change into something more warm and comfortable. He wished he could go lay down because he was incredibly tired. So tired that he couldn't even process what Mizrelle was yelling, though it was probably important.

"Will you shut up already?" Sam snapped all of a sudden.

Mizrelle did shut up. Everyone around them fell silent. After a moment of gaping like a dying fish, Mizrelle's face turned beet red.

"In your room, now!" she spat out.

Sam shrugged and walked away from the glaring crowd. Tom gave them all an apologetic smile and limped after his twin. He had to stay on their good side to convince them to back Mizrelle up in front of the council. Because no matter what, he was sticking to his end of the deal. He was coop like that, unlike some other people.

Mizrelle reached the room first and waited for them to step inside before propping her hands on her hips. "Just want do you think you're doing, Sam?" she said between clenched teeth.

"I'm in no--" Sam started.

"How dare you!" she yelled, effectively silencing Sam.

Tom winced, the sound too loud for his still tender ears. "We're sorry, Mizrelle. But we had to go."

"You promised you'd listen," she snapped, pointing an accusing finger at him. "That you wouldn't go rogue. What's so funny?"

Tom tried to bite back his smirk. "Going rogue. Mizrelle, I always go rogue. If I think that something I have to do is more important than your orders, I'll always do that. I'm no good here."

"How do you expect me to keep my end of the deal if you don't keep yours?" she asked.

Tom squinted at her. "I wasn't sure our deal was still up."

"It's not unless you give me what I want."

"Why can't you want something I can give you?"

In the silence that followed, Sam stepped back and sat on his bed, pretending he couldn't hear them, that he wasn't there. And Tom could sense his awkwardness and the desire to get out of there, and he was grateful that his twin was staying. He needed the moral support.

"Because I don't want to go through the rest of my life regretting this decision," Mizrelle said.

"So you'd rather I do that."

"Yes," she answered with disarming honesty. "If you leave now, you'll most likely never see me again. That's what I thought after I left the States. And I was sorry then. Not this time. Especially because now, unlike then, you don't have much of a choice."

"I'm not going to cheat on Angie."

"Pretend I'm her then."

"That's not how it works!" Damn, his voice was high, but he really didn't want to do this.

She squinted at him. "I really don't care."

They spend the following minute staring each other down. Sam was fortunately not leaving, which implied nothing too serious was going to go down. He had to make a choice and he already knew what Sam would say. Sam was right. Tom had to take one for the team if he wanted to ensure one less killer faction out to get them. Kyle had done it. And he was technically doing this for Angie as well, to keep her safe.

But at the simple thought of it made his stomach turn over.

"Will you help us?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Yes. I'll make sure you disappear during the challenge. In two days."

Tom swallowed hard. He already hates himself and he hadn't even done anything yet. "What do you want from me? And be more specific."

Mizrelle stepped towards him until they were inches apart. She looked up at him, her eyes hopeful yet cruel. "I want you to pretend I'm her." She put her hand behind his head, pulled him down, and kissed him.

His entire body tensed and his skin crawled worse than it ever had, as if literal ants marched on every inch of him. He fought the instinct to push her away, use his superior physical strength against her. And he hated it, hate it so much. Feeling weak and cornered and forced into something he didn't want. He hated it so much, his eyes stung with unshed tears.

No. He was not going to be a victim. Being forced into this didn't mean he was going to give Mizrelle the satisfaction of breaking him. He was going to handle this the only way he knew how. By showing off. So he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her against him, leaned over her and kissed her back so hard, her knees bumped against his legs. If she was so sure she wanted this, he'd prove her wrong.

Tom had no idea how long the kiss lasted, but even one second was way too much. He was more than glad when Mizrelle pulled back and drew a deep breath. Her hands still latched on to him, fingers digging in like claws, as if she expected this to be a tiny break before they returned to what they'd been doing.

Not a chance. It was his turn now. So when she leaned against him, he put his hand between them and kept her away.

"You only get one," he said, his voice thankfully neutral, because part of him still wanted to crush her. The other was trying very hard not to throw up.

"What? I..." Her words drifted into French drivel.

Maybe he was a terrible person, but Tom was glad he'd shut her up for once. He really hoped she felt at least a fraction of the awkwardness and discomfort he was feeling.

"Sam, get out," she finally said.

Tom took one step back. "Nope. Sam's not going anywhere. Whatever you have to say, he can hear it."

"I don't want to say anything," she mumbled.

"You're getting nothing else. I told you to be more specific."

She opened and closed her mouth, her eyes still a little unfocused. Then she closed her jaw tightly and looked away, her eyes shining. "Great, another thing I'll regret for the rest of my life."

"Join the club," Tom deadpanned. He had such an itch to wipe his mouth, but maybe now wasn't the best time. He didn't want to be cruel. "So are you going to be the girl I knew and keep your end of the deal, or a stubborn rapist who will push for more?"

She raised wide eyes at him. "Rapist?"

"Sorry, couldn't think of a better word for you forcing me into this."

"But you..."

"I what?" He quirked his lips into a humorless smile. "Kissed you back? Kinda had to. Not my best moment."

"You mean you can do better?"

He almost felt like laughing at how ridiculous this whole situation was. Still he nodded just to spite her. And because it was true. He hasn't even tried much.

"Mizrelle, that's enough," Sam said quietly from the corner. "You got what you wanted. Now are you going to help us or not?"

Her gaze focused on Sam. "Are you just as good?"

"What? Yuck! No!"

She laughed, but it sounded forced. "Don't worry. I'm strangely not attracted to you anyway." She turned back to Tom. "In two days, you're out." And with that, she exited the room.

Just in time, because Tom's knees had turned to rubber. He dropped on his bed the moment the door shut with a silent bang.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

Tom took his sunglasses off and tossed them on the bed then pressed his eyes with the heels of his palms. The pressure relieved some of the tension, but his stomach still churned, making him feel like he was about to hurl. Now that Mizrelle was gone and the deed had been done, there was nothing to draw the focus away from the crippling guilt.

"Tom?"

Fuck, he'd never felt so horrid in his life. Not even when he was being tortured. That, at least, hadn't been his fault. It was pain he could take because it would fade. This on the other hand? Not so much. What tore him apart most was whether he should tell her or not. Because telling her would do nothing but hurt her. Not telling her would make him a liar on top of the cheat he already was.

"Hey." Sam took his wrists and lowered his hands away from his eyes. "What are you thinking?"

"I was actually wondering what was worse. The torture or this."

Sam let him go and stepped back. "Come on, look on the bright side. We're getting out."

Tom didn't really care. Not then. He finally wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It felt oddly satisfying.

"At least you shut her up," Sam mumbled.

He forced a smirk, but only half managed it. He had to admit that, had it not been for the whole lying, cheating thing, kissing Mizrelle hadn't been that bad. He'd had much worse. But Angie had ruined him for any other woman ever. Because ever since he kissed her that first time, nothing else could ever feel right except for her. They completed each other in every way. And the thought had him wanting to go find her just so he could kiss her. Except it would feel wrong.

"We should go find a phone," Sam said.

"Yes, we should." Tom stood, trying to get some feeling back into himself. "And I need to finish my end of the deal."

"God, I hope it doesn't imply more kissing."

Tom laughed this time. "It might, but not the kind you have in mind."

It implied a crap ton of buttering up and ass-kissing, because he still needed to convince a large group of people to support Mizrelle. He'd tested the waters for the days he'd been stuck inside, just to make sure he wouldn't be lynched by the crowd for suggesting it. Fortunately, the answer had been widely promising. Even if they pretended to be heart and soul for the Fraternity, most of the boys and girls down there wanted more freedom and the possibility to at least visit home.

"Might as well get it over with," he said with a sigh.

❄

"What does Tom have to do?" Angie whispered.

Sam had been observing the crowd gathered before the podium, but Angie's question sent a rock plummeting into his stomach. "What do you mean?"

"To get us out of here." She jutted her lower lip out in a pout. "I'm not stupid. I know people don't get out."

"Most of them want to," he answered in a perfect show of deflection.

"Why won't he talk to me?" she asked, her tone laced with pain.

Sam fought the impulse to hug her and protect her from the ugly truth. "We're all under a bit of stress now. We'll feel much better once we have a plan." The phone in his pocket suddenly seemed to weigh a ton. But he couldn't call. Not until they knew for sure they could get out. "He's just nervous, Angie. He wants out as much as we do."

"There was a time he wanted in," she whispered.

Sam didn't know what to say to that. It was another one of those moments in which he was painfully reminded that Angie knew his twin longer and better than he did.

Tom finally climbed on the podium and raised his hands to get everyone's attention. Mizrelle wasn't there, thing they'd counted on. This was their chance to finish it.

"Hey everyone, if I could have your attention for a moment, I'd like to discuss something a little delicate."

Angie turned to listen, but Sam tuned Tom out. He already knew the speech, they'd practiced it together, and he was a lot more interested in the reaction of the crowd. Fortunately, people turned to listen. Unfortunately, the crowd didn't seem overly friendly. Animosity was easy to discern in every language. Still, they listened and didn't interrupt.

No one attacked or threw anything by the time Tom was done talking and Sam took it as the best sign possible. Angie didn't seem to feel the same way. She clutched Sam's wrist and squeezed so hard, his bones protested painfully.

"Okay, so is it official?" Someone asked from the front of the crowd.

"Um, what?" Tom asked.

"You et Mizrelle," Petit supplied with a grin. "Finally outing yourselves?"

"With the risk of sounding repetitive... um, what?"

"Come on, man, cut the crap!"

The crowd's mood shifted into a playful one as some of the boys up front nudged each other. It did nothing for Sam's nerves.

"I have no idea what you're talking about but there's no me and Mizrelle," Tom said, the lightest crack in his voice.

"Come on, dude." Petit's grin was so wide, it threatened to swallow his whole face. "We know you two are a thing. We're not blind. Why else would she allow you so many mistakes? That woman can punish!"

Angie's other hand grasped Sam's forearm right below the elbow, her fingers digging painfully into his skin.

"I don't know how it escaped you not-blind guys, but I have a girlfriend," Tom retorted, crossing his arm over his chest.

The crowd laughed for some reason, and it made the hairs on Sam's neck stand.

"Like we don't know Angie's Sam's girl," another of the boys said with a scoff. "You just pretended to get her in. But don't treat us like idiots and own up to it. It's not like Mizrelle will do anything about it now."

Tom's face shot up and found Sam in the crowd with ease. When he rose his sunglasses on top of his head, a shudder ran through Sam's body. He had no idea why he suddenly felt so terrified. His twin's eyes zeroed in on how Angie still clung to him, and Sam stepped away, trying to shake her off. Angie either didn't sense the madness or was too focused on the whole Mizrelle - Tom thing to care.

And even if there was a crowd of people between them and Sam was well aware that Tom couldn't reach him and that the accusations were false anyway, in that moment, Sam was afraid of his twin, of the bubbling darkness he'd always sensed inside him. He shook his head to deny what was obviously a lie.

The tiny gesture worked like a charm. Tom relaxed and turned his death glare to the crowd, effectively silencing them. "I don't give a shit what you think about my personal life. All I care about is that you show Mizrelle some support."

The crowd broke out of their stupor and mumbled in what sounded like agreement. Satisfied with his handy work, Tom dropped his sunglasses back over his eyes and hopped off the podium. Angie finally released Sam from her grip and stepped into Tom's arms the moment he reached them.

Tom encased her and held her against him, kissed her hair. Sam smiled weakly, but the scene made him uncomfortable. Probably because he was used to Angie being strong and resourceful, not needy and fragile. He didn't like this Angie, the one latching on to his twin, looking up at him as if he were her salvation. She was stronger than this.

Tom put his hand on her cheek and leaned his forehead against her, his smile unusually tender. Maybe he was trying to make up for what he'd done, calm her fears, but it didn't feel like the time and place.

"Is this what you had to do?" she whispered, the hope in her voice breaking Sam's heart.

Tom hesitated. It was only a fraction of a second, but Sam caught it. Then he nodded and hugged her harder against him.

Sam turned away from them and sunk his hand into his back pocket. The phone now felt like what it was supposed to. Like a life line to lead him to his real life. To Christine.

It was finally time to call the others.

❄❄❄

Lots of crazy shit going down here. I'm curious what you think about the whole thing. Should Tom tell Angie what happened? Would it do them any good if he were honest?

The Fraternity arch of this story is almost coming to a close. So I'm naturally going to ask if you enjoyed it.

Of course there's the question whether I'll show their escape or just fade to black on it 😅

Hope you're having fun with the story. Don't forget to leave me your thoughts.