Raff holds his gaze. Doesn't say anything for a long moment, he looks at him with those cold gray eyes, and I watch Milo's throat move as he swallows.
"You're a piece of shit," Raff says quietly. Then he turns back around in his seat and faces the road.
I hear the fucker sniffle a few times before he faintly whispers, "Haven't you ever done something you regret?"
"Not much," Raff says to the windshield. "And what I have regretted, I've owned with my whole fucking chest." He turns his head, glaring at Milo out of the corner of his eye. "I don't go crying to the people I hurt and ask them to make me feel better about it."
The car is quiet for a moment.
"Who covered it up?" I ask, keeping my eyes on the road.
Milo says nothing.
"Hey!" I glance at him in the rearview mirror. "Who paid off the cops?"
He looks at his hands. "Does it matter?"
"Yes," I say firmly.
There’s another beat of silence, and I’m worried I might have to hit him to get the answers I want. I don’t want to break my promise to Elle, but I will if I have to.
Finally, Milo shifts in his seat, his shoulders pulling inward. "My aunt," he says quietly. "She handles things like that."
"Who's your aunt?" Raff asks.
Milo looks out the window. "Angelica."
Shock slams into me, but I manage not to react. I look at Milo in the mirror, taking him in properly for the first time. There’s afaintresemblance if you’re really lookingfor it, but barely. He has the same dark hair and pointed chin, but that’s it.”
“Afterwards, she forced me to go to rehab,” Milo says as he stares out the window. "She was furious. Called me an idiot." He lets out a short, hollow sound that isn't quite a laugh. "She wasn't wrong." He looks back at his hands. "When I got out, she put me to work in the pharmacy unit."
"That's a stupid job to give a junkie," Raff says.
"That was the point," Milo says quietly. "She wanted me to look at those medications every single day and remember exactly what I did to get them."
The road hums under the tires.
Milo looks at me in the rearview mirror, his blown-out eyes wide and slightly unfocused as he tries to hold my gaze.
"What are you going to do with me?" he asks softly. He sounds shockingly calm, despite the tears still dripping down his face.
But neither one of us answer.
"You promised her you wouldn't touch me," he says.
"I know what I told her," I say.
He swallows. His eyes stay on mine in the mirror for another second, trying to read something in my face, then he looks away.
The shop comes into view at the end of the road, and I hit the gas.
I turn the wheel, pulling around the back of the building, and park. The back lot is dark except for the security light above the bay door, and in the glow of it I can see the four cars. Brand new. Black and expensive, sitting in a neat row, their paint still showroom perfect.
Raff lets out a low breath. "We can't let those sit too long."
I look out at the shop. "This won't take long."
Then I slip out of the car, letting Raff pull the fucker out. Milo’s legs buckle, and Raff steadies him, which is the kindest thing either of us is going to do for him tonight.
