C H A P T E R 2
❛ chased. ❜
MILO
THE TIRES SCREECHED OVER THE ASPHALT when his companions quickly drove away from the parking lot. There was a painful throb in his head and he closed his eyes in an attempt to get rid of it. Quinn wasn't supposed to be there, she was supposed to be somewhere safe, out of harm's way. When his boss had gotten word of the Magician's whereabouts this morning he'd sent Milo and his crew out to end it. To end the drug war that had been plaguing the city for over a year now, so that their crew would rule the streets once again. But while they had ended the biggest drug dealer in the city and claimed victory, he had almost gotten his sister killed in the process.
He should be mad at her for continuously putting herself in danger. He should be trying his hardest to keep her away from the horrors this world had to offer. Instead, he'd turned a blind eye and told himself that she would recover, that she would become better on her own, that he only had to hope for it to happen and she'd be fine. Now he couldn't help but wonder if he'd been stricter, maybe gotten angry at times, she might not have become addicted. She might still be dancing on the stage of the theater downtown like the little angelina ballerina she'd always been.
Over the years Milo came to realise that one of his many talents involved blaming himself for his sister's misery. He simply couldn't help it. Everything that hurt her, hurt him. All his life he had tried to protect her, prayed to whatever God was listening to keep her safe, only for her to end up getting in harm's way time and time again. As he stared at his trembling hands, though, he realised that what scared him the most wasn't even the fact that she could've gotten hurt. It was the stone cold relief in her eyes when he killed that man.
Part of him wanted to agree with her. It was ridiculous to feel guilt about ending the life of a man who had more than deserved it. But Milo Morales wasn't a murderer, taking someone's life wasn't something he was proud of. As soon as he pulled the trigger, he knew he would carry that guilt with him forever.
'Hey, you okay man?' Aiden asked, putting his hand on Milo's shoulder.
He shook his head. 'She wasn't supposed to be there,' he replied.
Aiden gave a small nod, squeezing his shoulder. 'I know, but we got the job done. That's what counts.'
Milo didn't respond. The heavy weight of the gun in his hand felt wrong. He clenched his hands to try and forget the feeling of pulling the trigger but he couldn't. It felt as though his crime was burned into his skin, a mark to forever remind him of his sin. He'd taken a life and now he had to pay for it by living his own life with that guilt.
'Hey,' Aiden got his attention, his voice filled with a softness that Milo didn't deserve. 'Don't feel bad about it. You did what you had to do.' When Milo still refused to speak, Aiden shifted in his seat, leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his boyfriend's mouth. 'You hear me? You did nothing wrong.'
Slowly Milo nodded, offering his boyfriend a small smile while reaching out and taking his hand in his own. His reaction seemed to be enough to satisfy Aiden as he focused his eyes on the road ahead of them while keeping a steady hold of Milo's hand.
'Don't get too excited yet, we've gotta get rid of these guys first,' Scott screamed from behind the wheel at his two crew members in the back.
The world came rushing back to Milo all at once and the reality of their situation settled in. He quickly shifted in his seat, watching the police chase them through the back window as they sped through the streets. When he turned back forward he noticed Scott was heading for the edge of the city, perhaps hoping to escape in the countryside. Far in the distance the sun was slowly rising, taking away the cover of darkness.
'How'd you think they found us?' Stephen yelled from the passenger's seat.
Milo shook his head. 'Doesn't matter, just get rid of them.'
'I'm trying,' Scott mumbled through gritted teeth as he steered the car onto a small road so the cops wouldn't be able to drive up next to them.
Milo could only hope Quinn had managed to escape the parking lot before the cops arrived. At the thought of his little sister, the Magician's face appeared before him. The hole his bullet had made, the blood of the wound and his body falling down to the ground. It had all gone so fast, but even now he'd no trouble remembering precisely what happened. He could see how the man had taken Quinn's arm, a possessive gleam in his eyes. He could remember how he had reacted by raising his gun, not hesitating for even a second to pull the trigger. A shiver crawled down his spine. He'd taken a man's life, he killed a human being.
He had never killed someone before.
Sure, he'd seen it happen but so far he'd managed to keep his hands clean. When it came to his sister however, well, he would do anything to keep her safe. He shouldn't be so surprised that anything included killing. A small, naive, part of him however had always hoped it would never come to that. He clenched his hands to get them to stop shaking. He had to stay focused on the present and make sure they'd get out of here alive, without getting caught.
The sun was fully risen now and Scott managed to take them out of the city. They were driving at full speed across small country lanes in a hopeless attempt to escape. Fields of green grass and sunflowers passed him by as the car almost seemed to fly over the asphalt. The sirens of the cops following them were only adding to his headache.
'Where are you taking us man?' Aiden yelled to his friend behind the wheel.
'Away,' Scott simply replied, trying his hardest to keep the car steady on the road. He was older than both Aiden and Milo and had been a part of the crew for much longer. He clearly didn't feel like explaining himself to them, no matter how badly Milo wished he would, because he was starting to feel their chances of getting away were growing thinner with each passing second. Throwing another look over his shoulder Milo felt his stomach ache by the thought of being captured. Violence was part of his life, but he'd never seen the inside of a cell. He couldn't afford to be locked up. Quinn needed him and he wouldn't be able to protect her from inside a prison cell.
And when that thought hit him, the thought of his sister alone in a world that had been nothing but cruel to her, ice cold fear appeared in the pit of his stomach. 'Faster man!' He shouted, frustration on the edge of his voice.
'Shut up!' Scott snapped.
The sound of the engine roaring was a pain for his throbbing head. He placed his cold hands against his forehead, hoping the headache would disappear but it seemed determined to keep on plaguing him. And it wasn't just the pain, it was the constant image of the drug lord falling down that seemed to be burned into his mind, followed by the dark eyes of his sister as she turned to him, looking relieved. He hated himself for not seeing that she'd become so cold that murder was acceptable to her now. She lived a horrible life and although he didn't exactly agree with the things she did to push away her pain, he did understand it. He just wished she could see how strong she truly was. He knew she had strength within her, just like their mother used to have. But the abuse she suffered at their father's hands and her addiction that followed had drained all the fight from her bones and no matter how hard he tried, he hadn't been able to reignite that spark.
'What the fuck,' Scott mumbled, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He leaned forwards to look through the front window and the sight of what waited ahead of them, made his eyes widen. Two police cars were parked on the road before them, taking away any chance of them passing through. His heart was racing in his chest, his mind grasping at ideas to get out of the, seemingly, hopeless situation. But before he even had the chance to open his mouth and offer an idea, the car lost all grip on the ground and was launched into the air.
A scream worked its way out of his throat while his hands desperately searched for something to hold unto. He tried to get a grip on the seat in front of him, but the car started spinning and he was forced to let go. His body was thrown around, a pained shout escaped his lips as his arm bashed harshly against the window. Time seemed to slow as the world turned around him in a hurricane of blurry colors and sounds.
Then it was over, the car landing upside down. Carefully he opened his eyes, nausea hit him when he realised the world had turned around. Pain was flaming through his arm like wildfire and something warm was tickling down his forehead. Groaning in pain he reached out and touched it, pulling his fingers back when it stung, only to see them covered in blood. But all that pain was nothing compared to the ache in his heart. He was going to be captured, forced to leave Quinn behind in a world that didn't deserve her. No matter how much he deserved punishment for taking a man's life, he refused to leave his sister alone.
He was pulled from those thoughts when Scott tried to force the door open. The banging sounds made his ears ring and it felt as though his head would split in two. 'Hey!' He called out, his voice hoarse and every word echoed through his mind, like his voice no longer belonged to him. 'Don't!'
But his friend didn't listen. With one last kick he forced the door open and rolled out onto the grass. Only to jump back up almost immediately with his gun raised.
'Idiot!' Milo screamed but his friend didn't listen as he opened fire on the cops that surrounded them. The gunshots echoed over the empty fields, like drums of war signalling a coming doom. Milo tried to crawl to the window to get a look at what was happening but he stopped in his tracks when a heavy thud made the car shake. Scott's body was thrown against the car. Several bullets had pierced his chest, killing him.
A scream of pure rage escaped Stephen's lips at the sight of his fallen friend. He rattled the door until he was free. He rolled out of the car, grabbed his gun and as soon as he was out and on his feet he started firing.
'Stop it, you idiot!' Milo screamed, panic holding his heart captive.
'Why?' Aiden replied from beside him.
Milo turned his head, a slight gasp of pain escaping his lips as he did. His boyfriend was lying next to him, glass in his hair and his nose bleeding. An angry frown was drawn on his face.
'They killed Scott,' Aiden spat.
'And if we don't stop attacking them, they'll kill us too,' he answered. He couldn't lose any more people today, his heart was already crumbling beneath the weight of guilt from killing Marcus. He wouldn't be able to handle his friends dying too.
Bullets hit the car, the grass and eventually Stephen's forehead, forcing him down on the ground as well. The sudden silence was too much to bear. He stared at his fallen friends, tears crawling down his cheeks. Milo had spent most of his life fighting and had lost friends before. Death was no stranger to him, but these guys had always been with him. It felt like a sudden hole had been punched into his gut and he felt himself unable to move, speak or even think.
Aiden seemed to be shaking with rage next to him, his eyes focused on their fallen crew members. Then he moved, so suddenly that it startled Milo. He watched as his boyfriend reached for his gun.
'Don't,' Milo choked out, tears falling from his eyes. The darkness was pulling at him but he was desperate to stay awake and convince his boyfriend to not do anything stupid. 'Please don't.'
His words seemed to stop Aiden, long enough for him to turn to Milo, smiling sadly. 'I love you,' he muttered, then he forced the door open and crawled outside.
'No,' Milo cried, his hands struggling to get rid of his seat belt. When he finally managed to break free he crawled with trembling limbs after Aiden, out of the car wreck. The grass was cold beneath his blood stained hands. The strange contrast of red against green made him pause for a moment, guilt sweeping through him. He looked away before he would drown in his remorse. His eyes searched for Aiden, his heart racing with fear for his life.
His boyfriend had pushed himself up on his feet, swaying slightly from the trauma to his head. Still, he held his weapon tightly in his hands, searching for a target to avenge his friends.
Milo looked at the cops, a warning shout stuck in his throat. One cop was standing a bit further away from the rest, his back turned to them, a perfect target. Milo caught sight of the cop's brown curly hair and pointed nose before Aiden pulled the trigger.
The bullet pierced the cop's shoulder, a pained scream that tore through Milo's heart left his lips. His body fell down, disappearing out of sight in the high, green grass. One of the other cops shouted in rage and responded by raising his own gun and pulling the trigger without hesitation.
Milo found himself completely numb as he watched the bullet find its target within Aiden's chest. He was forced to watch, hopeless, while Aiden fell, dead before he even hit the ground. His heart was crying out, sobs tore through his chest as his eyes were glued to the corpse of the man he loved.
He lost all of them in one day.
He saved his sister, but lost two friends and the love of his life.
Hands pulled him up when the cops finally dared approach him, realising the sobbing, wounded man in the grass was no danger. He was roughly pushed up against the car, his hands forced on his back while one of the cops was reading him his rights. Somehow Milo found himself looking at the cop Aiden shot down, hoping for some sort of feeling of victory, of revenge for his fallen brothers. But as he saw the blood leaking from the wound and the cop who killed Aiden kneeling down beside him while putting pressure on the wound and screaming for a medic, Milo could only feel despair. There was no satisfaction, no wretched feeling of revenge, only a pit of darkness remorse, threatening to swallow him.
His eyes fell on Aiden's dead body, one last time, a pained sob left his mouth. Then he was pulled away, forced into the direction of the police car, away from his friends, away from his sister, away from his freedom.
edited: ✔