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A Matter of Trust (Lia and Michael's POVs from the Colonial University Adventure from Killer Instincts)

Summary:

This is a recreation of the canon party scene from Killer Instincts, but from Michael and Lia's POVs. :)

Notes:

The dialogue and plot is all from the original book written by Jennifer Lynn Barnes!

I only take credit for switching the POVs to be Michael and Lia and adding some extra details.

Work Text:

Lia’s POV

The wind from the open window whips my hair as Michael drives at breakneck speed. I lean back against the seat of Michael’s midnight blue Porsche, my cheek pressed gently against the smooth leather surface, as I watch the trees racing by outside.

We’re heading to Colonial University to go to a frat party. More specifically, Michael, Cassie, and I snuck out of the house to get information on the active case we weren’t supposed to touch.

It’s all for Dean’s sake. The sooner we catch this killer, the better.

The UNSUB had killed a college girl and displayed her on the hood of her car on the the university president’s front lawn.

Bind them. Brand them. Cut them. Hang them.

My jaw tightens at the thought of that monster called Dean’s father forcing Dean to go through this torment again. When we saw the murder scene on TV, I saw the moment Dean slipped back into the dark place in his mind. I decided right then and there that I wasn’t going to let this slide.

I didn’t care that our darling new ‘program supervisor’ ordered us to stay at home.

I didn’t care for Cassie’s hesitancy when I shoved the short dress into her hands and ordered her to get changed.

I didn’t care that Michael and I were ‘off’ when I asked him to drive us to Colonial University.

Dean was more important to me than anyone else in the world, and if I had to involve Michael and Cassie in this little adventure to get answers, then so be it.

I glance at Cassie through the rearview mirror while keeping my expression carefully neutral, knowing that she would certainly try to read me from the back seat.

I made sure Cassie saw me slipping into the front seat next to Michael, like I always belonged there next to him.

Because she would never be with Michael.

My gaze flits to Michael for a brief moment. His hands lightly grip the steering wheel, and his eyes remain locked on the road.

‘I always keep my eyes on the prize,’ Michael said with an amused smirk as he glanced at me.

‘I would tell you to keep your eyes on the road, but I like a little danger,’ I fired back as a wicked grin spread across my face.

A pang of something too close to hurt crosses my heart at the memory, and I quickly shove it away. Those midnight drives ended shortly after Cassie arrived.

A lot of things ended after Michael left for Denver to go retrieve our little red-head chick.

Michael’s hazel eyes drift towards the rearview mirror.

Towards the backseat.

Towards Cassie.

“We’ll want to make a quick detour,” I say with cool indifference. Michael pulls his attention away from the rearview mirror, away from Cassie, and towards me.

I gesture towards one of the green signs with the tip of one dark purple nail. “Pull off at the next exit.”

I glance back at Cassie, noting the slight flush on her face and sensing her discomfort as she pulls down the hem of her short green dress. I feel a fleeting moment of amusement at her obvious discomfort as I ask, “Enjoying the ride?”

Cassie studies me for a moment before replying flatly, “I’m not doing this for enjoyment.”

Truth.

I slowly let my gaze trail from her to Michael and back again. “No,” I agree. “You’re not doing this for enjoyment. You’re doing it for Dean.” I linger on Dean’s name just a moment longer than the rest of the sentence.

Michael’s hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel as he turns into the exit, and my lips curve upward into a satisfied smirk.

My words landed just where I wanted them to.

“Gas station,” I direct him, my hair whipping wildly in the wind. Michael pulls in and throws the car into park harder than necessary.

He is certainly asking himself what led Cassie to do this for Dean.

“You two wait here.” I smile, relishing in the fact that I got under Michael Townsend’s skin. “Ta,” I say with a little wave before snaking my body out the open window without opening the door.

I saunter towards the mini-mart, the smile slipping from my face. By leaving them both in the car alone, I had deliberately set Michael up for an unspoken test.

A test he was almost certainly going to fail.

 

Michael’s POV

“This is a bad idea,” Cassie says as we watch Lia saunter toward the mini-mart.

“Almost certainly,” I agree, though I’m not entirely sure if she is referring to the fact that we are sneaking out to a frat party to investigate a murder or the fact that Lia chose to leave both of us alone in the car.

‘You’re doing it for Dean.’

I school my expression, trying to push Lia’s words and any thoughts of Redding out of my mind when Cassie speaks again.

“We snuck out of the house to go to a frat party,” she says. “And I’m pretty sure this isn’t a dress.”

I turn around in my seat, raking my gaze over Cassie and noting that the dress, if you could call it that, just barely covers her thighs.

“Green’s a good color for you,” I remark, a slow smile spreading across my face.

There’s a long pause. Her expression is a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty.

“Now it’s your turn to say something about the way this shirt really brings out my eyes,” I add, switching my lighthearted tone to a more faux-serious one.

My grin widens when Cassie cracks a smile.

“Your shirt is blue. Your eyes are hazel,” she points out.

I lean closer to her. “You know what they say about hazel eyes.”

‘Sloane told me hazel eyes represent duality, mystery, and complexity,’ Lia purred as she gripped my shirt tighter and pushed me against the wall.

‘Oh? And what did she say about black eyes?’ I ask as I wrap my hands tighter around her waist.

She pressed herself against my chest, her black eyes watching me like she could stare straight into my soul, ‘Black eyes represent power, intensity, and—’

“No, Michael.” The sound of the car door opening sharply and Lia’s voice yanks me out of the memory. She swiftly takes a seat with a smirk firmly in place. “What do they say about hazel eyes?”

I watch her face carefully, but don’t lean away from Cassie. “Did you get what you needed?”

A hint of irritation crosses Lia’s expression, but it’s gone in an instant. She hands a brown paper bag back to Cassie who promptly opens it.

“Red Gatorade and cups?” Cassie questions, throwing a confused look at Lia.

Lia shrugs and fixes her gaze at the rearview mirror. “When in Rome, do as the Romans do. When at a frat party, drink questionable fruit punch out of a red Solo cup.”




Michael’s POV

Cassie and I are with Bryce, a student who knew the victim, and Geoffrey, one of the TAs for the Monsters or Men: The Psychology of Serial Murder class, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and find two texts from Lia on my home screen.

Cat Burglar: sent a photo

Cat Burglar: Having a fascinating chat…

Shit. Shit. Shit!

I stand up immediately upon seeing the off-center photo of Lia standing with two college boys. “Sorry, Bryce. I have to go.”

Bryce shrugs at me, and I turn toward the door. I catch Cassie’s eye as I pass her, mouthing a single word: Lia.

I head out the door and impatiently wait for Cassie down the hall.

Damn it Lia! Why the hell would you wander off alone with two strangers at the scene of an active murder investigation?

Cassie finally walks out the door and rushes over to me. “What exactly did Lia say?” she asks. I hold up my phone for her inspection.

“’Having a fascinating chat,’” Cassie reads the text accompanying the photo. “’Heron Hall, roof.’” She pauses, digesting the words. “What’s she doing on the roof of some random building?”

Being a completely reckless idiot.

“Interrogating suspects who don’t know they’re being interrogated?” I suggest, hating the edge slowly creeping into my voice.

“Any chance the boys in the picture aren’t suspects?” Cassie questions, but I already know the answer.

Lia was angry that I left her alone at the party. She was angry that I left her alone while I went with Cassie, so she decided to pull a dangerous move — heading off alone with two guys who might be capable of murder.

“Maybe they’re just friends of Emerson’s,” Cassie suggests hopefully.

“She sent a picture,” I reply flatly.

So we have proof of who she was talking to.

In case something happens to her.

My heart starts to pound at the thought of Lia in mortal danger, her body bleeding and sprawled out on the concrete slabs below the building after being pushed off the roof of Heron Hall—

I shouldn’t have left her alone.

I could tell by the look on Cassie’s face that she thought the same.

“She’d mock us for worrying,” I say lightly, trying to convince myself as much as Cassie that Lia was fine, that she knows where to draw the line.

But she doesn’t. I know that better than anyone.

“Either that,” I continue, my pace quickening against my will, “or she’d take it as a personal insult.”

She’ll push and push, and she won’t stop until she gets what she wants or goes too far.

Because we’re the same in that regard.

Heron Hall comes into view, the Gothic-inspired towerlike building looking imposingly creepy in the night.

And very much locked down for the evening.

I glance at the NO TRESPASSING sign before cocking my head at Cassie. “Do you want to trespass first, or should I?”


I hear Lia laughing — a light, almost bell-like twinkle of a sound — before I open the door to the roof.

“After you,” I gesture to Cassie with a smile, my mask slipping firmly back into place upon hearing Lia’s laugh.

She’s alive.

I casually walk onto the rooftop and spot Lia in her tight leather pants and backless top. She’s standing at the center of the roof with the two guys from the photo, the lights from the rest of campus twinkling behind them in the distance. As Cassie and I approach, Lia shifts her eyes towards us and flashes a bright smile.

“You made it,” she says, weaving her way towards us.




Michael’s POV

The ride home is quiet. I didn’t say anything to Lia as we headed back to the car. Lia slipped into the back seat, stretching her legs out over the leather seats without a word, leaving Cassie to take the passenger seat next to me.

Normally, I would have complained and told Lia to get her dirty shoes off my seats.

Normally, I would have been racing home, but I’m driving at the speed limit.

Normally, I would have been happy that Cassie was sitting next to me, but all my thoughts remain firmly stuck on Lia.

Which is probably what she wants.

“That actually went better than I expected it to,” Lia says finally. “If we can sneak back in without getting caught, I’m willing to call it a win.”

My hands tighten around the steering wheel as Cassie pulls her attention away from the window. She turns to look at Lia.

“I thought you never got caught,” Cassie says, trying and failing to keep the edge out of her tone.

I watch Lia inspect her fingernails through the rearview mirror. “We live in a house with a trained FBI agent and a former military sniper,” Lia replies lightly like the conversation bored her. “I’m stealthy, not magic. Call it an acceptable risk.”

If we get caught, Redding is going to kill me.

“Are you sorry you came?” Lia aims a pointed look at Cassie. “Or, given the opportunity, would you do it all over again?”

Cassie’s expression shifts slightly, but I could tell she didn’t regret it. We had learned far too much to have regrets.

And I never regret anything.

“What did you think of the TA?” Cassie directs her question to me.

“Yes,” Lia says, yawning and fanning her hand over her mouth. “Do tell, Michael. What did you think of the TA who was such a promising lead that Cassie left the party to go with him, with you on her heels?”

She tosses the words out like she couldn’t be bothered to care, but one look in the rearview mirror showed Lia’s face hardening with each passing second.

“The guy was looking at Cassie like she was some kind of specimen under a glass,” I answer smoothly. “You really think I should have let him take her off alone?”

Cassie’s new to this. I thought Lia could handle herself for a short while, but I never thought—

“I’m surprised, that’s all.” Lia executes an elaborate shrug and presses her head into the seat. “I mean, following Cassie worked out so well for you last time.”

A muscle in my jaw tenses at her words.

Last time I followed Cassie, I had gotten shot.

“We shouldn’t have left you there,” Cassie replies, regret clear in her voice.

“Puh-lease.” Lia closes her eyes, like this whole conversation was boring her to death. “I can take care of myself, Cassie. I saw you leaving. I could have joined you. I chose not to. And if Michael had bothered asking, I would have told him to go with you.”

That much was true. Lia and I had already split up when I saw Cassie leaving with Geoffrey.

“I told you to stay at the party,” I mutter, unable to hold back my words any longer.

“Excuse me?” Lia shoots back and immediately sits up on the seat. “What was that?”

“I texted you when I left,” my voice rises with every word. “You were supposed to stay at the party!” I shout and slam the heel of my hand into the steering wheel in pure fury, causing Cassie to jump beside me. “But no, you went off with not one, but two strange—”

“Witnesses?” Lia supplies, effectively cutting me off. “Trust me, I had a handle on it. I could handle the Dereks and Clarks of the world in my sleep.”

Because you’ve lived through much worse.

And you know that I know that.

“Now, Michael, dearest,” Lia continues, her smooth silky voice grating against my ears, “concentrate. Cassie’s TA. What were your impressions?”

I grind my teeth for a few seconds, considering whether I should answer or not. After a few moments of tense silence, I finally answer, “He wasn’t happy when I showed up. He was even less happy to see me with Bryce. I caught a flash of guilt when he saw her, followed by possession, condescension, and titillation.”