Crash Landing [✓]

08

Chapter Eight | ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR DIRTY JOKES?

I sat with my face buried in chilly, sweaty palms on the side of the unmade bed. My face was flushed with repressed indignation as a result of my psychotic break when Julian sent kisses over the phone, and my hunched form emitted a bitterness that was like caustic soda.

His parting words rung in my mind after he chromatically hung up, because I was utterly helpless.

The foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach had my mother wrapped around his finger, by playing my boyfriend? The thought made my insides churn.

Everything Julian had said was problematic and consequential. He wanted me to come to him, bearing the microchips, while Milo not having an inkling of the truth. The only thing he hadn't specified was whether I was to bring Milo along, or come alone.

I was scared of him, I didn't want to admit it until now, but he was more dangerous than my simple brain could comprehend, I had no idea just how far he would go, to get what he wanted. He was to be feared no doubt, he wasn't someone who made empty threats, he'd certainly act upon his words, I knew that much at least from what Milo had told me.

I would be silly not to inform Milo of the threat though, if anyone could do something about it, it was him. Yet, I knew better than to confide in him, knew it would create more harm than good. Because what if telling him resulted in putting my mother's life on the line? What if she was hurt as a result of my stupidity?

Perhaps Zachari would be willing to assist me on my suicide mission; especially if he and Milo had yet to rekindle their Bromance.

Slipping out of my nightwear, I pulled on a pair of faded, high-waisted jeans and a cropped, poppy-red hoodie to minimalise the impact of the cold. With the first and last thing on my mind being Julian's threat of decapitating my mother, I left the bedroom with my teeth brushed, mouth and face freshened.

Much to my disdain, instead of Zachari's warm smiles and dorky presence I was graced by Milo's. He appeared to be leisurely posing in the lounge area's couch, his feet up in the air and hands knitted behind his head nonchalantly. And even then, I was transfixed by his effortless attempt to portray himself as an Abercrombie and Fitch model; marvel shirt ridden up above his navel, displaying a peak of sculpted abs.

"You're awake," Milo said cheerfully — getting off the couch instantaneously and approaching me, a joyful grin creeping onto his face.

He looked like he absolutely admired mornings and that only made me raise my brows at him, wondering how he could be so joyous and happy.

Unlike him, I was far from being a morning person — that was what my groggy state should have been signalling right this moment as I rolled my eyes and scrunched up my nose at him. "Where's Zach?"

"He's in the Tech Crib." Milo responded, skeptically. "What do you need Zachari for?"

"I just wanted to see if he's okay." I quickly countered, disappointed that they'd already made up.