Lost In The Fray

Fifty Five

Milo

"Milo."

That soft voice penetrates through all the chaos raging through my mind. That voice is like a vice around my fist, stopping me from continuing with my actions. Instead, I press both my hands into my father's shoulders as my breaths continue, heavy and laboured. As if only just seeing the damage I have caused, I recoil from the mess of the man lying in front of me.

He deserves it. He deserves every single little bit of pain he got. He deserves to be in pain for all the years he put Mum in pain for.

For all those years that I was too weak to do anything about it.

I don't care about the mess I made.

But I care what that girl standing behind me thinks of me.

I close my eyes and, using Dad's chest, push to my feet.

Nia's mum rushes past me, shoving me to the side, to see to my dad, and I ignore them.

With all the courage I can muster, I turn and peer up at Nia, knowing her face is going to be full of fear. Knowing that she's going to back away from me and never want to see me again.

Tears sit on her lower lids, but it's not fear that twists her features. It's sympathy.

"Milo."

Her voice doesn't tremble. It stays soft and cautious.

My chest rises and falls with power as the adrenaline continues to drive around from the powerful beating of my heart.

She takes a step towards me with her hands raised, and I automatically take a step back. She should be disgusted by my behaviour.

I haven't hit anyone in years. And even then, my punches were weak. They never did the damage I did to my father.

"You shouldn't be here, Nia."

I'm scared of what she sees when she looks at me. I know Dad has done some considerable damage to my face. But it's Dad's blood on my hands that's going to scare her away.

She takes another step towards me, reaching out with her hands. Every instinct I've been fighting against to be able to prove myself to Nia has won.

I failed.

I'm too weak.

"Get out." Marie's vicious voice sounds behind me. "Get the fuck out of my house."

I don't bother turning and stride towards the front door. Nia grabs my arm on the way past and I yank my grip away.

"Nia." Marie's voice calls down the hallway. "Don't you dare follow him."

"I can do whatever I want, Mum."

I have my hand on the front door handle before Nia reaches out and tugs on my arm. I pull away from her hold and march out of the door and up the drive as she follows me. I close my eyes as she repeats my name, unable to turn to her.

I want to. I want to so bad. I need her.

But she's relentless. She doesn't give up on me and in the end, I succumb to her pull and turn to face those wide, brown eyes.

I don't deserve to be looked at the way she's looking at me. Like she loves me.

She runs her hands down my arms and grabs one of my hands in both of hers. She runs her fingers over my skin, trying to coax it out of the fist I didn't realise it was still tightly wrapped in.

Keeping her eyes on mine, she puts it to her face and presses her lips to my fingers.

It's such a small act but it means so much to me. A warm, calming sensation seeps through my fingers, up my arms and spreads through the rest of my body.