Caught In-Between

Near and Near

Warning: Male x Male; contains strong language; Rating- Fiction T; some may find this story offensive; don't like, don't read

Notice: this story is fictional. If any events occurred or sound similar, it's sheer coincidence. Some of the names mentioned in this story were made up.
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Previously...
      I turn around and notice a hand move swiftly away from a window. Part of me thinks of asking Xavier about it, but I open the door instead.
      No time to dwell on it. We've got a lot of research to do this evening.
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      The past fourteen hours seem like a fantasy. It was a baby with candy, and we took it with ease. I can't help but think something is off.
      How did we go from little to nothing to a lot of something? Are we really that close to solving the case?
      I look at the list of usernames in my hand.
      "Alright, we got some researching to do," I announce. "The goal is to identify who's in Salazar Prime. We are looking for four people. Four of us will be assigned a username. Remember, the usernames are for their Instagram profiles. We will regroup to tell each other their names. Any questions? Comments? Concerns?"
      Everyone, except Milo, shakes their head.
      "Good. Let's delegate the usernames."
      Kai grabs four sticky notes and four pens. I write a username on each one, utilizing John Hancock's penmanship. Xavier, Carlisle, Kai, and I each grab a sticky note. Milo stands off to the side, leaning against a wall.
      "Do you have space for us to work," I ask them.
      "Yeah," Carlisle replies. "Kai and I can work in our rooms. I can give Xavier my laptop, and you..."
      "You can work in my den," Milo finishes.
      I look at him in astonishment.
      "Thank you," I say. "Are you fine with that, Xavier?"
      "Yeah, absolutely."
      "Okay. Time is precious, so let's get to work."
      We wait on Carlisle to hand Xavier his laptop before going our separate ways. Xavier sits on the living room couch; Carlisle and Kai head upstairs.
      I follow Milo to his den. My body tenses when he pulls the chair out. I sit in front of the computer, his hand on my shoulder. He leans forward to log in. My breathing becomes irregular when I feel his toned, broad chest against my back. With the computer up and running, he leaves me to work.
      Let's see what I can find...
      I search Instagram in the search bar, clicking the first link I see. Hundreds of photos and videos display before my eyes. One of the pictures catches my attention - a group of people standing together, arms around each other. I read the caption.
      "Even when we're together, we're alone." Damn.
      I move the mouse and place it on the search bar. My fingers wear out the keys as I type the username. A result pops up.
      Here goes nothing.
      I scroll through the profile. The first few pictures are of guns. They range from handguns to machine guns. After the guns are pictures of money. Stacks of fifties sit on a table.
The more I scroll, the more I see guns. Gun after gun after gun. Then, it's back to money. Money after money after money. I think about leaving the profile, but another scroll prevents me from doing so.
      A picture of a guy pops up on the screen. He has face piercings and water droplet tattoos. He's sitting in a car with his leg hanging out. I zoom in on the picture, noticing a tattoo on his neck. "Panama" is written across the front.
      Below the picture is another picture of the same guy. He shows off two arm tattoos. "PRIME Time" is written on one; the initials "SP" are written on the other. I clap silently.
      This is a good sign! "SP" is probably short for "Salazar Prime."
I continue looking through the profile. Numerous videos of the same guy appears. After five minutes go by, I see him with three other guys. They also have the initials "SP" written on their arms. The rest of the photos and videos are of them together.
      These are probably the suspects.
I read some of the comments. One of the guys refers to my guy as Angel. I notice Angel stands towards the front or in the middle of every photo or video.
      Angel, huh? I bet you're the leader.
For a split second, my mind thinks back to Al. His words replay in my head like a broken record.
      "Salazar Prime has killed many, but there are two people who I think matter the most to you."
I whip out my phone and call the Chicago Police Department. An officer answers, his voice husky. I ask about Kenneth and Kimberly Hope's case, nervous of what I might find out. He agrees to email a copy of the case to me. When I receive it, I open it immediately.
The first thing I see are their faces. They look so happy, so full of life. I never heard their voices or their laughs. They never showed Milo any love. They didn't care about him, but he always treated them right.
      It's been seven years since you left this earth - since you left Milo. This file could confirm what Al told me.
I observe the information in the file. Similar to Jose's case, there's little to no information. There were no witnesses at the scene. No one came forward with tips or answers. The only thing they have is a description of the car from video surveillance. I lean forward as I read the description.
      A black Dodge Charger with black rims... and tinted windows.
I shut off my phone.
      Al was right. They killed them.
When Milo was sixteen, his parents were killed in an unrelated case. They were on their way home one evening when a car pulled up and shot them. Nobody was around to witness the incident. For a while, Chicago Homicide detectives were working the case; but after no one came forward with information and only had one lead, the case went cold.
I remember how devastated Milo was. 24th Avenue had formed before their passing, and I remember all of us being there for him as he mourned. For two weeks, I held Milo while he cried; he would always ask why it happened. Unfortunately, we didn't know the answer, and the police didn't either. Milo never got any closure, which is why I decided to leave 24th Avenue.
I left the gang when I was eighteen. Knowing Milo still didn't get any answers after two years bothered me. That's when I decided to become a detective. I wanted to help those in the same situation - while trying to solve theirs.
I revisit Angel's Instagram and manage to find a phone number. I dial it instantly. There's no time to prepare; someone picks up after the first ring.
"Hello?"
"Hey, is this Angel," I ask.
"Who's asking?"
"Look, I'm going to be honest with you. My name is Detective Young. I'm with Los Angeles Homicide."
He sits quietly. Then, I hear him chuckle. I can feel his evil grin.
"Homicide? I think you have the wrong number, detective."
"You and I both know I didn't pull this number out of my ass. There is a serious matter that I want to talk about. I would like to speak to you in person."
No response.
"It would be in your best interest," I add.
"It would, huh," Angel responds.
He agrees to meet with me in the next forty-five minutes. I write down the address he provides and hang up.
      This could be a setup, but there's only one way to find out.
I close out of Instagram and shut down the computer. When I walk out of Milo's den, I regroup with Xavier, Milo, Kai, and Carlisle in the living room.
"So what names did you find out," I ask them.
"Juan," Carlisle says.
"Alberto," Xavier replies.
"Javier," Kai responds.
"Angel," I add.
We write their names beside their username. Everyone agrees that, based on pictures and videos, Angel is the leader.
I clear my throat.
"While I was researching, I found a phone number. It was Angel's. I called him to see if he would talk to me in person, and he agreed."
"For real," Carlisle asks, skeptical.
"Mm-hmm."
"I don't know," Xavier says. "That's probably a bad idea. I mean, do you think he's actually going to show up?"
"No... but I'm going to find out. We've come too far. I'm not going to miss out on this opportunity."
They nod their heads.
"When are you supposed to meet up," Kai asks.
"In the next forty minutes."
"Damn. We better move," Xavier says, looking at the clock. "I'll go w-"
"We'll go together," Milo interrupts.
Everyone looks at him, but he only focuses on Xavier. My eyes look back and forth between the two. Xavier smiles slightly.
"That's fine."
He averts his eyes back to me.
"Just be careful."
"We will," I say.
      Milo and I head out of the house. We hop in my car and head to the destination. The whole way there is awkward. It feels like I'm waving at someone who's waving at someone behind me. We don't say a single word to each other. I keep my eyes on the road, and he stares out the window.
      It takes thirty minutes to reach the building. The sun is asleep, the moon takes its place. We get out of my car slowly, captivated by the humongous building. It's the length of two football fields.
      The door echos throughout the building when I open it. No lights are on. There are broken windows and pieces of furniture everywhere. Doors that lead to empty rooms line the walls. Nothing changes as we go deeper and deeper into the building.
      "Seems like you and Life Saver are close," Milo speaks up suddenly.
      "His name is Xavier."
      "Yeah, whatever."
      Our shoes smack the floor as silence returns. I shiver when I see two dead snakes, their flesh exposed to us.
      It's probably best to stop looking around, I tell myself.
      Milo sighs, breaking the silence.
      "Why? Why did you leave?"
      I look at him and see the face I saw years ago. It's the same face I saw the day I left.
      "I wanted justice for you," I confess.
      He raises his eyebrows.
      "I remember the day your parents passed. You were only sixteen. I could see, I could feel, your heart breaking. Even after the way they treated you, you never stopped loving them. The police were doing everything they could to solve the case. But no one was coming forward. The case went cold.
      "Two years had passed, and you still didn't have any answers. I knew your parents' killers were roaming the streets. So I decided to leave the gang when I turned eighteen. I wanted to become a detective to help those who may or may not be in the same situation. But more than anything, I wanted to solve the case so you can have a bit of closure and your parents can rest peacefully."
      He stares at me, shaking his head in disbelief.
      "And the moment we catch Salazar Prime, that will be the outcome," I add. "They're responsible for your parents' death."
      "Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," he says. "No way. Are you telling me the main reason you became a detective is for me?"
      "Yes."
      He continues to stare at me, mind-blown. His mouth is open, but he's unable to speak.
We continue through the building, nearly reaching the end. When suddenly, I hear something click. I look at Milo and realize he noticed the same thing.
"Bomb will go off in twenty, nineteen..."
We immediately start running. I push my body to the max. I force my feet to run faster than they ever have before.
"Eighteen, seventeen, sixteen..."
I look up ahead. We're over a hundred yards away from the entrance. I already know what's going to happen. I know the reality that's to come, but I still run.
"Seth, wait," Milo calls out.
He grabs my arm.
"We're not going to make it."
"No, no," I say. "We have to keep going! We cannot die here, Milo! WE CANNOT-"
"Stop, Seth! Just stop!"
I stare into his eyes, my heart pounding. My chest rises and falls quickly.
"Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen..."
"Milo, we have to go! Please..."
"We're not going to make it! It took us five minutes just to get to the end of the building."
I look in the direction of the exit.
"Twelve, eleven, ten..."
"Are there any windows," I ask, searching frantically.
"No, they're at the front of the building."
"Nine, eight, seven..."
"There's got to be something! T-"
Milo grabs my arm and pulls me towards him.
"There's nothing we can do, okay?"
"Six, five, four..."
He cups my cheeks; the warmth of his hands travels through my body. We look into each other's eyes one last time. He leans in and kisses me.
"I love you," he says.
"Three, two, o-"
The countdown stops.
"Bomb diffused," the machine says.
We look around.
"You better get out while you can," a manly voice tells us.
Milo grabs my hand and runs toward the exit.
"Thank you," I call out behind me.
We bust through the door, sprinting to my car. As soon as my car starts, I take off towards the house.

TBC