I pack my bag for the fight tonight, jamming what little possessions I have into it. My hands start to shake, and I collapse onto the floor beside my bed. How many times can I do this? How much more before I break? Before Mila came back, I’d been fine. This was my life, and it was enough.
But now…I know I hadn’t been living at all. That wasn’t a life—going through the motions to stay alive, and for what? To end up here, packing my bag while the sperm donor is out getting his fix. Fighting for money I won’t receive because he’s already shot it up his arm.
Why do I keep doing this for him?
When is it enough?
I have very little left to give, and I don’t want to waste it on people who don’t give a shit about me.
The rain has been pelting against the windows for the past hour. I like the rain; it’s soothing. I love the sound it makes against the thin roof and walls of the trailer. When I was little, I used to hide in my room, away from my parents’ fighting. Away from the old man on a bender and screaming and ranting at the TV.
If the rain was loud enough, it could drown it all out. I would lie with my head against the wall, close my eyes, and think of her. The girl with the huge smile, who wanted to hug me even though I was mean to her. The girl who never gave up on me. Until she left.
But even then, did she really give up on me? She won’t give up on me now. And that’s the only thing that’s getting me through each day, knowing she will be there, no matter how hard I push against her.
I turned my phone on earlier. Hunter tried to call when I didn’t turn up for practice this morning. Even had a missed call from Jace, which I didn’t expect. Hunter’s usually the one to call and come around to see if I’m okay. Jace doesn’t do it on his own usually; he’s always with Hunter.
Jace tried to speak to me a few times this week at school, but I just can’t. I need everyone and everything I’ve ever cared for out of my life, including him. Even if he’s being an asshole. He always seems to revert to asshole Jace to keep his emotions bottled up. How do I know? I do the same. But I’m not an asshole about it. I just don’t talk.
I know he’s lashing out at everyone because he made a mistake, and he knows it…a few mistakes, actually. I might not say much, but I’m observant when it comes to my best friends. Jace…he’s hurting, deeply. He just can’t see that, right now, he’s his own enemy. Once he does, he can stop fighting against himself and everything will get better. I just hope he sees it sooner rather than later. I would hate to see him end up like me.
Alone.
Then, there’s Hunter. His parents neglect him. Always have. Yeah, he has flashy new shoes all the time and the car to match. But his mom is always drunk, and his dad…hell, I haven’t seen him in a year. Neither go to his games, and I think, in some ways, he sees himself in me. Only, I got the trailer park version of his life.
There’s a small sound, and I think for a moment it’s coming from the trailer behind mine. Maybe Billy out for his rent money. Stupid time to do it; this rain is relentless.
When the pounding on my trailer door starts and doesn’t stop, I scream out, “Fuck off, Billy.”
I can’t deal with his shit now. I don’t want to take it out on him—he’s not a bad guy—but I need to see my mom first so I can get the rent money. That’s if the Amato family hasn’t figured out where I hide most of my cash and already stolen it.
The banging continues. “Fuck’s sake,” I mutter to myself as I storm out of my room, somewhat glad the old man isn’t here. I can’t deal with his fucked-up ass right now. He took the rent money from my room and shot it up his arm. It’s why we’re late, again.
I throw open the trailer door, and it slams with a thud. It’s as though the rain knows I have the door open as it starts to pelt down harder and the wind picks up, causing the droplets to come inside. “Billy, the rent is co—Mila?”
I freeze. Mila’s standing in the torrential rain. She’s wearing a dark hoodie and a pair of dark jeans, her blonde hair laying drenched around her face as she hugs her waist with her arms. Her big blue eyes are looking up at me, sad, scared, and something else…I just don’t know what. She jumps when she hears a dog bark and my feet are moving before I can register what I’m doing.
When I reach her, she stills. “You’re wet.”
The corner of her mouth goes up in a smile, and I know she’s thinking of the double meaning there. But all I can think of is how drenched she is, and that she needs to be dry and warm.
She shivers, and I wrap my arm around her shoulder, drawing her into me. She’s so small, she fits against my body like a glove. Like she belongs there.
I want to shout to the gods, “What’s this bullshit you’ve sent me? Every time something good comes, you fuck me over. Haven’t I experienced enough hurt? Enough pain? When does it stop?”
It never ends. Because if it did, I would kiss this beautiful soul and keep her with me always.
But thoughts like that are dangerous, especially after the visit I received early this morning from the assholes. The old man has managed to work out an open account with the Amato family and keeps taking what they offer him.
I don’t give a shit about him, and they know it. Their words were, “Blondie got off easy…maybe not so much next time.”
They’ve discovered my greatest weakness, and now they’re exploiting it.
I’d lunged at them, intending to snap their necks, but the clicking from the gun pressed against the back of my head forced me to stop my assault. If I’m dead, who will protect Mila? Hunter? Jace? They don’t even know what shit I’m mixed up in. I need to fight to save Mila. If I don’t…the Amato’s made it clear they will come back for her.
With that thought in my mind, I scan the area around my trailer. Are they out there? Watching me? Making sure I turn up for the fight tonight? The rain wets my hair, and I realize I’ve been standing in the rain with her pressed to my chest. I need to get her inside before anyone spots her or she gets sick.
Why is she so wet? Where’s her car? No time to ask that now. I usher inside and slam the door closed and lock it and take her straight to my room. The rain pounding on the steel frame doesn’t let up; it’s loud, but I can still hear her rapid breathing. Fuck, is she hurt?
Spinning her, I look down her body. She seems fine. I push the hair from her face, and she blinks up at me. I run my hand over her head, then down the strands of her wet hair. Water drips off her body and onto the floor as she shakes beneath me.
“Mila,” I breathe. My mind and heart are at war. My heart yearns to help her, to get her warm and hug her. To never let her go. But my mind wants to kick her out and tell her to run home and stay as far away from me as possible before she gets killed because of me.
But we’re like magnets. No matter where she goes, I know we’ll make it back to each other. It’s inevitable. We’re always going to end up here, together. The harder I try to deny what’s between us, the more certain I am—she’s it for me.
Mila is my end game, and even if I have to wait twenty more years to keep her safe, she’s worth waiting for.
Rushing to the bathroom, I grab my towel, and when I return, she’s standing in the same spot, shivering. “Mila, what happened?” Something must have happened for her to be standing on my doorstep in the rain like that. Did she get carjacked? Fuck.
“I had to see you, see if you were okay. I had a bad dream, and I needed to see you with my own eyes. To know you were okay.”
My heart swells. She had to see me. After a bad dream. God, this girl is going to break down all my walls. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself before I beg her to run away and marry me.
I focus on the task at hand—getting her dry—but her clothes are soaked through. “Where did you park your car?” It must have been far for her to get this wet. Or how long was she standing outside my door?
I pull up the hem of her hoodie, hoping if we get this off, then maybe whatever she’s wearing underneath is dry. She can wear something of mine while I drive her back to her car so she can get home and have a long, hot shower.
“My car had a flat tire. I didn’t know how to change it, so I left it at home.” She gives me a small smile and shrugs, like it’s no big deal.
I grab her shoulders, and she looks up at me. Those eyes…they’re like looking into the ocean, so much love and hope in them. I can’t be angry with her. “You walked all the way from your house? What were you thinking?”
She blinks and wipes her eyes. Is she crying?
“Mila, don’t cry. I’m just worried, okay? It scares me that you walked here alone. In the rain. Can you promise me…”
I let go of her shoulders and run my hands down her arms, trying to catch my thoughts before I scare her. I can feel the cast under the damp fabric on her right arm. Fucking hell. That can’t get wet. I let go of her for a moment and pull on my hair before pinning her with my gaze. I want her to know how important this is and that I’m not angry but scared.
“Promise me you will never do that again, ever. You call me or call Hunter. Never walk out here alone; this place isn’t safe for you. I don’t want you here, but that’s only to keep you safe. The people who live here are not good. I don’t ever want something to happen to you because you were here.
“So, promise to call me, and I will come change your tire, and you will see I’m alright. Okay?”
She nods and glances around my room. It’s not much. Fuck, it’s nothing compared to her room, but she just glances back at me and gives me a half smile. “You need to turn your phone on. I was scared for you, so I tried to call you. When you didn’t answer, I came here looking for you. To make sure you’re okay.”
She’d been scared for me…because of a bad dream?
“I took a nap and had this feeling something bad was gonna happen to you, and I needed to see you. I know it sounds silly now. I was just scared that I’d lost you, and I can’t, Roman. I’m never letting you go.”
The statement frightens me more than I want to admit. After what happened earlier with those two assholes…I could have been killed because my father can’t stop and doesn’t care about his son. He doesn’t care if they kill me. As long as he gets his fix, he would let them. Just like they know that I would do anything to keep Mila safe.
Just eighteen months—that’s all I need and I will be done. I will move into the club…or choose a different path.
One without pain and hurt.
One that includes Mila.
