Redemption Hills: The Complete Collection

46. Milo

FORTY-SIX

MILO

FIVE YEARS AGO

Milo stared at the man who lay facedown as the shouts of the corrupt reverberated against the block walls.

“End him. End him!”

That voice echoed in his ear. Because this time? It’s him or it’s you .

Everything spun.

The room. His mind. The hatred that burned through his veins.

But this hatred was no longer for himself. And he would no longer give voice to the violence that he thought never could be sated.

It was for a man who’d preyed on his pain, one who’d twisted it into something disgusting, one who’d made him betray his wife.

The one who’d crawled down from his wicked throne to witness the brutality firsthand.

One who was asking him to do the unthinkable.

Fine, then the unthinkable, it was.

Before anyone could prepare themselves, Milo spun and flung himself over the ropes. He rushed for the two assholes standing guard at Stefan’s side.

He was behind the first before the man could even shout, his neck snapped, flat on the ground.

The second came at him with a knife.

He threw a kick to his wrist, and the knife clattered to the floor. The guard dove for it, but Milo got to it first, grabbing it and spinning around and slashing it across his throat.

Blood gushed.

Gore.

He turned to look for Stefan, who’d disappeared in the moments it’d taken Milo to end his guards.

Deviants scattered through the basement, roaches that fled while Milo stalked back through the mass of them, striking down any bastard who came his way.

He wanted only one.

Only Stefan was gone, running like the pussy Milo had always known he was. His power was born of manipulation and money and the twisted fucks who knelt at his feet.

Except all those men were now dead.

Milo swiped the blood splattered on his face with the back of his hand, and he moved back to the ring.

He hoisted up the man who was still out, tossed him over his shoulder, and jogged with him down the hall. He only diverted long enough to grab his bag that held his keys, then he hurried up the stairs.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, a thrashing, driving force. It was the only thing that gave him the strength to carry him out.

At the top, Milo busted out the door. Darkness was thick, shadows rushing on all sides, and Milo jogged into the cover of the trees where he laid the man on the ground.

The man they called Immortal stirred and moaned.

He cracked open an eye, fear rustling through him before he slumped back when he found Milo looking at him.

“You didn’t need to save me… I’m already a dead man.”

Milo blew out a ragged sigh. “Yeah, well, not on my watch. Why’d he set you up?”

Immortal stared at the underside of the trees. “Because this shit isn’t right, and someone needs to stop him. Clearly, he found out that’s what I was trying to do.”

Milo glanced down at him, his heart still jackhammering in his chest, trying to gather his thoughts, to process what he’d done and where it was going to lead.

Immortal sat up. “I need to go…have a contact who was recording. I need to get this evidence to a safe place before it’s too late.”

Fear curled through the adrenaline, Milo coming to the full realization of what his snap decision meant. The choice he’d made.

“Go. I need to get to my family.”

The man looked at Milo, something passing through his eyes. “Thank you.”

Milo shook his head as a thousand regrets flooded his spirit. “I shouldn’t have been in that ring to begin with.”

“Yeah, neither should have I. But maybe it’s the way we walk away from it that counts.”

Milo gave a tight nod before he pushed to standing, and he helped the man to his feet. They parted in opposite directions, and Milo began to run, fumbling through the trees to where he’d left his truck parked in a backlot on the next street.

Barefoot.

No shirt.

Body covered in blood and sweat.

He rushed for his truck where it sat on the far side of the lot. He clicked the locks as he ran, and he rushed around the front to the driver’s side. He whipped open the door only to freeze when a knife was suddenly at his throat.

A dark vapor hovering over him from behind.

“You failed. Your betrayal won’t go unnoticed.”

Pain sheared through his body when the blade was impaled at his side.

He dropped to his knees, hand pressing at the wound that poured with blood.

But it wasn’t deep.

It was a warning.

Stefan’s voice was at his ear. “Now, you must be punished, but only because I love you. I hope it will at least bring you to your senses.”

Then Milo was clocked on the temple, sending him into darkness.

Rocks flew up from his back tires as he barreled down the dirt road. Sweat streamed from his temple and pooled on his shirt. His clothes covered in the gore from hours before.

His side was still gaping, oozing, but not deep enough to keep him down.

His hands gripped the steering wheel like it might keep him chained to sanity as he struggled to see through the blur of fear.

Rushing ahead to meet it.

To cut it off.

To stop it.

He shoved the gas pedal to the floorboards, the tail of his truck fishtailing as he whipped around the curves.

It was little relief when the building finally came into sight, his headlights illuminating the trailer. The tires skidded as he rammed on the brakes and threw the truck into park.

He didn’t shut it off.

He jumped out and busted through the front door.

“Autumn! Autumn!”

Only the vacancy echoed back.

A sickly awareness that sank into his flesh.

Dread.

Desperation.

He flew into Remy’s room, terror ripping through him. His daughter was on the ground in the corner, rocking with her hands over her ears, her brother asleep in the playpen beside her.

Relief slammed him so hard he nearly bowed. He raced for her, knelt in front of her, clutched her to his chest. “Do not move from this spot.”

He ran back out, and he burst through the back door and into the night.

His footsteps pounded.

The water glittered like black ice.

She was there, floating facedown, twenty feet off the bank.

“No, Autumn, no!”

Milo plunged into the freezing cold.

It swallowed him whole.

An abyss.

A chasm.

Darkness. Darkness.

He pulled her out on the shore, breathed into her mouth, pumped at her chest.

He dialed 911, begged for someone to come.

It took forever for the sirens to come wailing through the night.

But it was too late.

Too late.

She was gone.

Gone.

And that was the moment his life went dim.