✔ Run Baby Run ✖ punk hood au

xvi - 1700

c a l u m:

I raced through the streets of Sydney at rapid speed, ignoring every rule as I hastily made my way to Michael's house. My fingers clenched tightly onto the steering wheel, my eyebrows furrowed in anxiety as my mind kept drifting back to the text message I received only seven minutes ago.

Ashton got arrested.

There was one reason and one reason only why one of my best friends is sharing a cell with another criminal. No, not for some petty crime like defacing walls with spray paint, or stealing alcohol from the liquor store. Ashton wouldn't make stupid mistakes; he's way too smart for that.

I parked my car in the driveway of Michael's house, leaping out of the driver's seat. The entire house was dark, no light seemed to be emitted from any other windows, and I assumed the Clifford household was in deep slumber. It wasn't until I noticed the stream of yellow light seeping through the small crack of the garage door did I realize Michael was inside. I could make out a dark shadow pacing back and forth while sounds of muffling filled my ears.

"Michael, it's me," I announced, knocking on the garage door. Not a moment too soon, the door slid upwards, its gears grinding like some steam punk fantasy.

"Ashton was thrown under the bus. Someone betrayed him," Michael informed, the moment his eyes locked with mine. He was fidgety, jumpy, and nervous.

"What the hell happened? Fiora keeps his shit on lockdown. Who would've betrayed Ash?" I questioned, walking into the garage. Michael closed it immediately.

Michael shrugged, "I don't fücking know. I keep getting texts from Fiora's people about money and that Ashton was lucky the cops came... we have to get to the bottom of this shit."

"I just fücking don't understand," I grunted in frustration, plopping onto the couch, "we've never had a problem before. What the hell did Ashton do that someone felt the need to betray him?"

Ring.

I looked at my pocket and Michael did too, as my phone jingled and danced to the buzz-rhythm in my pocket. I reached into the pocket and pulled out my phone, the screen glowing in our faces. It was a call from Fiora himself-- the top of the pyramid, the ruler of the district, one of the most dangerous men in all of Sydney. No one has ever seen him face to face. If you need to speak with him, you speak through his people-- and one of those people was Ashton.

"Answer it! Is it from Fiora?" Michael asked, pressing me to answer. I nodded, my shaking finger sliding across the screen. I pressed the phone up to my ear and opened my mouth to speak. I gulped, losing all function to coherently form a sentence.

"Hello Mr. Hood," the voice on the other end was deep, polished, and sent shivers down my spine.

"He-hello," I stammered, looking over to Michael whose face was drained from any color.

"Speaker phone," Michael mouthed. I pressed the icon on my phone screen and Fiora's icy voice echoed in the garage.

"I'm sure you've heard the news of your friend Mr. Irwin. He's lucky he's alive, but he's hanging on a string. Mr. Irwin isn't as loyal as he says he is. And I'm sure you're fully aware of what happens when you're not loyal,"

"I uh- y-yes, I'm, I'm aware," I answered, screwing my eyes shut, as if the action would erase the painful memory harboring in my brain.

"Janet Riley was an innocent girl, I can see why Mr. Hemmings found a liking to her," he struck a nerve.

"Hemmings never loved Janet!" I cooly declared. I could feel the blood inside of me boiling and I was 2 seconds away from punch the wall.

"Not as much as you, right Mr. Hood? It's all in the past now, there's nothing we can do to bring back Janet Riley. What I want to discuss now is the future. Mr. Irwin owes me money and since he is incapable of doing so, you will. And since I know Mr. Clifford is listening--" I glanced at Michael who was shivering in his shoes, "--he will be accompanying you. You have one week. And if I don't receive it by then, someone will die. Goodbye Mr. Hood, Mr. Clifford, have a wonderful evening."