Bodies

trois.

The next day, Milan woke up feeling refreshed for about five seconds.

After that, the aftermath of the night before began to rain down on her. Pulling her hands from underneath her black duvet, she marveled at how not even twelve hours had passed between them being covered in blood.

Ramses's blood.

Flashes of his almost lifeless body came across her mind, the silent ride to the hospital in the ambulance, and finally that panty-wetting grin of his as he pulled her across his hospital bed. She was in awe of everything that had happened.

And she still had to go to work today.

Instead of Ramses's ominous attempt at flirting with her being the first thing on the screen when she looked at her phone, it was two missed calls from her childhood best friend, Jazmine. Clearing her throat a little bit, Milan sat up in her bed and dialed her back.

Picking up on the first ring, Milan had to pull the phone back from her ear as Jazmine's excited high squealing filled the speakers.

"Bitch! Why didn't you call me?!" Jazmine demanded, faux irritation in her tone.

Milan squinted her eyes in confusion as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes at the same time as well. "What the hell are you even talking about?" She asked, voice still gravelly. Jazmine groaned loudly.

Leave it to Jaz to be fully functional and over dramatic at nine a.m.

"You saved Pharoah's life! The streets are taaalking, girl!"

This statement was the shock that woke Milan's nervous system right up.

Her eyes glanced at her closed bedroom door, she wondered just how much the streets were talking— and how badly did she hurt her brother's Vice Disciple credibility.

That was his livelihood and all.

"Girl, it was an accident..." Milan caught her bearings and held her head in her free hand. Jazmine snickered and she could picture the girl shaking her head as she spoke. "Lol, some fucking accident. The Blood Lords thank you, headass."

Then she bursted out into laughter.

Of course, she could laugh. Her name wasn't crossing enemy lines.

Falling back against her pillows, Milan sighed into the phone and that's when Jazmine sobered up, softly clearing her throat on the other line. "It's okay, Milan. It was admirable what you did, like you could've left him there. You know I can't even pick up a mouse off a glue trap, you handled a whole gunshot wound."

Milan wasn't really trying to get a Nobel Prize, the full gravity of what she did was setting in. She interfered in gang activity.

Ramses was meant to die in that club.

Even his crew left him there.

Devon did his best to keep her safe and her head under the radar. Most people didn't even know they were related unless they knew him prior to his gang affiliation. Even his high status couldn't save her from anybody who was angry about what she undid.

"Milan, you there?"

Jazmine's voice called her back to reality and she hummed her response back. "Yeah, I'm sorry. Devon's already so pissed at me." She revealed next, and Jazmine scoffed, unfazed.

"Devon has been a hot head since the day he was born. You know he's just worried 'Santo is gonna beat his ass. Now he is the only person I'd be afraid of, but he's loved you since we were kids."