Chapter 64
Mila
Thump! Thump!
All I can hear is my heartbeat flooding my ear, pulsing through the tips of my fingers as I make contact with my opponent. I welcome it, the singular sound that calms and focuses me.
“ Stop!” Camilla shouts, but I swing, landing my punch into Ben ’ s ribs. He ’ s one of Camilla ’ s men, and she has assigned him to teach me how to fight. The past few weeks have carved new muscles into my body, causing aches I didn ’ t think were possible after I endured years of ballet training.
“ You ’ re still too graceful, Mila,” Camilla enters the field. We ’ re somewhere outside of London. The air is thick and foggy, and the wild grass makes me nauseated, but I endure it. Her boots crush the soggy soil.
I like it when it ’ s wet; I think it gives the ground more cushion. My back has been slammed into it more times than I can count.
Camilla ’ s world is ruthless; there is no training gym, no padded floors. Just the cold, hard ground and truth.
It would be so easy to become one of her puppets; she paints a very touching story. I do feel for Camilla; sometimes I want her to get her revenge; I just want my friends and family spared from it.
She ’ s like a mother, sociopathic but still caring in her twisted way. She ’ s taken me in and taught me how to fight, but her most important trait is the ability to manipulate. Her staff bows down to her, and one flutter of her long lashes has the men drooling. She twists her words, making them coaxing till they are sticky like honey trapping us.
She ’ s a collector of broken creatures who she has mothered back to health.
“ Don ’ t point your feet when you go into the punch. Land a solid foot.” She stomps the ground, making a slapping sound as the sole of her shoes squeezes out the moisture. “ Flat feet, strong hands. Commitment, right, Ben?” Camilla eyes him strongly. Usually, she is fond of him, complementing his teachings. She still has me drawing at night, working on my portraits. She ’ s just trying to purge more memories from me so she can collect those, too.
Outside of her lessons, I ’ ve kept to myself, too scared to ask others questions. I cling to Camilla, something she would expect, and it helps with my lies. But so far, I haven ’ t discovered much. I don ’ t know who the man is she wants to destroy or how The Rites of Passage are holding up. I ’ ve just been learning how to fight and eventually kill.
“ You need to be a force, Mila. Unpredictable. Keep your enemy guessing. Right, Ben, it ’ s all about who lies best.” She slowly sings out the last words like a snake slithering and hissing as it glides seamlessly over the grass.
Something is wrong.
My hair stands on edge, catching more of the thick fog. Shit! Does she suspect me?
No. I ’ ve been so good at night I tell her how Dash tricked me and how much I hate him, but I sprinkle the story with some love; I tell her how he saved me from Jared and Dom.
That ’ s natural; hate and love are always attached, and beautiful things must have thorns to keep them safe but also isolated.
“ It ’ s time for your next lesson, Mila,” Camilla announces. Thick rain clouds move in, covering the sun and making my vision all the clearer. Camilla grabs a gun. I’m not shocked at first because, after my hand-to-hand combat, I do target practice. But we usually drive far out in the fields for that. They first had me shooting clay pucks, but I ’ ve progressed to live targets. Birds.
Camilla raises the gun so calmly I think nothing of it, but then…bang!
I scream. How could I not?
Ben ’ s body jerks and then falls. Thud! The sound tremors through the wet soil, crawling up my toes, ankles, and legs, and then it wraps around my neck, choking me.
She just…shot him!
Ben! Not a bird in the sky. She shot him!
“ Look, Mila.” Camilla comes closer and grabs my hand as she places the gun in it.
Is this a test? Does she want me to try to shoot her? She probably has a sniper in the distance waiting for me to move. My fingers remain uncoiled.
“ He lied to me.” She states coldly.
I lied to you.
“ Have you ever put a bullet in flesh?”
Who says that? It ’ s not just flesh, blood, and bone. Ben was a human.
“ No.” Camilla answers for me. “ It ’ s time, Mila. You ’ ve been progressing, but fists will only get you so far. A gun,” she presses my fingers into it, “ is your best friend. You ’ re small, and the men in our world will dominate you. You need weapons.”
I look everywhere but at Camilla or Ben. If I shoot her now, I ’ d still have to get off this compound alive and then get to a city. The chances are slim. This all will be for not.
“ Shoot the body.”
“ H…he…he was a person,” I whisper. Not a body!
“ I suppose so.” She repeats without an ounce of emotion. “ Now he is nothing. Shoot him and continue with me.”
My gulp is louder than the gunshot. Her hand drops, and, oh, my fingers grab the gun holding it. “ Now aim.” She says so gently, like she ’ s pushing me on a toddler ’ s bike, ready to watch me wobble and ride off.
“ I ’ m not trying to make you into a killer.” She purrs.
“ What are you turning me into?” I pick my words carefully, giving her all the power to think I am being molded.
“ A stronger version of yourself.” She steps closer to Ben and presses her dirty boot into his chest. “ Someone who won ’ t be walked over.” She kicks the body and then steps back.
“ Do it.”
I don ’ t bother hiding my trembling hand as I raise the gun, and boom! I think I just lost a piece of myself.
But I did it to save my family and friends. They can find that lost part of me and glue me back together again.