Secrets (Sequel to Danger In Love)

Crashed

((Sorry this is so late today, I got distracted by a bookstore. And I may or may not have bought $70 worth of books :D ))

The white car speeds down the desolate street, only the occasional car driving by it. The clock on the dashboard reading 1:34am.

The black haired man at the wheel sighs as he forces his eyes to remain on the road, his exhaustion threatening to get the best of him though he kept moving. The two men hadn't stopped at another motel, mostly because they weren't sure if PJ was following them, they wouldn't risk it.

Mark shakes his head as his vision blurs again, the car occasionally swerving off the road as he forced himself awake. His eyes travel up to the rearview mirror, the green haired Irish man was visible in the backseat, fast asleep.

Jack had fallen asleep at about 8pm, and was supposed to drive at midnight, however Mark refused to wake him up. He looked far too peaceful, bundled up in his large sweatshirt, curled into a ball laying across the back seats.

The tension between the two men had grown a bit before the Irish man went to bed, their fight still lingering in the air, though both were quiet. Neither of them really knew why they were fighting in the first place, must've just been the stress and fatigue both felt. Especially now that they knew they had to be more vigilant with their movements.

A yawn escapes the black haired man as he continues to drive, his eyelids growing heavy as he thinks about waking the Irish man, but with one more glance backward he decides against it, the green haired man's sleeping face too serene to disturb. So instead Mark focused on things other than his tiredness. Like what they would do.

All together they had driven quite a distance, moving from state to state fairly quickly, though they had yet to find a way out of the country. They couldn't get to an airport without the risk of getting caught. Then again, they could head down towards Mexico or somewhere near there, it'd take a while, but maybe they could get a plane somewhere else from there.

However doing that there was the border checkpoint, it'd be difficult to get passed that if their identities had spread far, which so far it seemed they had.

Mark frankly had no idea what they could do. There was always the option of turning themselves in, which had crossed his mind multiple times, however Jack reacted negatively to that whenever it came up. Nonetheless it didn't seem like such a bad idea to Mark, three meals a day, free place to sleep, and he'd be there with Sean, what more could he need.

Mark didn't know why Jack kept reacting so adversely to the suggestion, but maybe he did. Even from the little time the Irish man spent in that prison, it'd hurt him, the loneliness had seemed to get to him. Though now whenever Mark tried to get him to talk about it, he went silent, acting fairly nonchalant about the idea, though his hand did seem to instinctively travel down to his arms, where many scars, and faded scratches still littered his skin.

"Shit."

Mark cusses under his breath as he noticed he'd begun to drift from the road again, nearly going fully off. The black haired man shakes his head, silently scolding himself for getting lost in his own thoughts before he forces his brown eyes to focus on the dimly lit road once again, but of course his thoughts wandered as they always seemed to do.

What else could they do? PJ was going to catch up to them eventually, there was no way they could run forever. Mark had already grown weary of driving, of running away. He missed his old house, he missed his old bed, he missed his old life.

Maybe if he'd just left Jack in the prison he could have returned to that life, but he'd made the risky decision to bust the Irish man out. Now there was no way he could go back, did he make the right choice?

As much as the black haired man wanted to confidently say he'd made the right choice, the question kept coming back to him. He remembered first meeting the Irish hacker, wanting to use him to take down a large drug cartel.

Of course the tables turned a few times, Jack had used him for personal gain, he'd turned him over for money once, though came back. Mark had forgiven him easily, he didn't know why, the black haired man didn't often forgive, even for the smallest of wrongdoings.

So why did he forgive the Irish man after he'd many times stabbed him in the back? Mark's brown eyes travel to the rearview mirror again, looking at the passed out man in the back seat, and he sighs.

It was something about those puppy-dog eyes, their ocean blue color hypnotizing, something about the man's sweet, mischievous smile, and something about his cocky attitude. Mark had fallen under his spell easily. Listened to his sweet words, and looked into his mesmerizing eyes, only to get himself in more trouble than he'd bargained for.

However, as much as Jack had stabbed him in the back, he'd also clearly showed his love, as much if not more. He'd many times shown how much he cared, going on the run as to not bring Mark into his troubled past, killed Cry, stayed to make sure the black haired man wouldn't bleed out though he knew he'd get caught.

Mark knew exactly why he had helped Jack so much, he loved the loud Irish man, as much as he missed his old life, he wouldn't give this one up. But the thought still lingered, what if he did?

Mark's thoughts are interrupted with a crash, as the white car collides with a tree off the side of the road, the high speed of the car making the impact much worse than it should've been. The windshield shattered and Mark jolted forward, thankful for his seatbelt, however his head still rams into the steering wheel harshly, his vision blurring and blackening around the edges as he feels blood dripping down his forehead. Unconsciousness threatening to overcome him.

His thoughts instantly go to the Irish man who was in the backseat, unlike Mark he hadn't been wearing a seatbelt, and frankly was lucky he didn't crash through the windshield. Though when Mark looks back he doesn't see the man on the seat anymore but instead on the floor, still passed out, and seeming to have hit his head, evident by a gash across his forehead which blood leaked from heavily.

"Sean..."

Mark calls out in a soft groan, reaching to the backseat, wanting to help the man, but unable to as blackness overcomes him, the sound of a car door opening near them being the last thing he heard, before he falls unconscious.