Micah clenched his jaw. His fists were pressed tightly against his chest as he glared at Clyde through the thick lenses of his glasses. His chest rose and fell quickly. His whole body was tense.
He was furious. Absolutely furious. But he couldn't afford to lose his temper, not now. Not here. Not in front of Clyde. If he snapped, he would blow his cover.
He swallowed hard, then forced out a stiff voice. "Excuse me, I'll go freshen up…" his voice trembled as he stood up and walked off. The bathroom door slammed behind him with a loud bang.
In the quiet hotel room, Clyde watched Micah's reaction calmly. A hint of satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, like someone who had just made the winning move in a very long game.
