Chapter 23
Jason
Five minutes pass, still with no sign of Mila. I pick up my phone and dial her number.
It rings and rings, only to go straight to voicemail. I try again three more times, each attempt making me feel more anxious and on edge. By the fourth missed call, the panic has now set in.
The first thing I do is call Chris and let him know I’ll be coming in late tonight.
Then I make a call to my dad, asking if he can look after Jake for me this evening.
I can’t shake the feeling that something might be terribly wrong.
That something serious has happened. It’s this very instinct that compels me to go to her place and check on her.
After making all the necessary calls, I get Jake ready and wait for my dad to arrive.
Normally I’d drop Jake off at his place, but I thought it was best to meet him here, just in case Mila suddenly shows up.
Twenty minutes later, my dad walks through the door with a worried look on his face.
“What’s going on, son?”
I grab Jake’s backpack and hand it over to him. “Mila didn’t show up tonight. It’s unlike her to be late, let alone not show up at all. I’m going to stop by her place and check if everything’s okay.”
“Is something wrong with Mila, Dad?” Jake asks, his tiny voice filled with worry.
I give him a tight-lipped smile and gently pat him on the shoulder. “I’m not sure, bud, but I’m going to go find out. Grandad’s going to take you out for a burger and chips, okay?”
His little brow furrows with concern, but he nods. Even at five years old, he can tell when something’s off.
“Let me know how it all goes. I’ll keep Jake with me overnight and bring him first thing tomorrow.”
I nod, thanking him, and walk them to the car. After helping Jake into his booster seat, I plant a quick kiss on the top of his forehead before waving them both goodbye.
As soon as the car pulls out of the driveway, I hurry inside to grab my phone, wallet, and keys, locking the door behind me, and make a beeline for my car.
The moment I’m on the road, my mind starts racing with all kinds of possibilities for why Mila didn’t show up tonight—maybe her car broke down somewhere and her phone died, she took a long nap and accidentally left her phone on silent, or perhaps there was a family emergency and she didn’t have time to call me.
Whatever it is, I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for it.
Within minutes, I’m pulling into the guest parking spot in front of her building.
Before heading inside, I try calling her one last time. When it goes straight to voicemail again, I hang up, exhale sharply, and make my way towards her apartment. What the hell is going on, Mila?
As I climb the stairs to the second floor, I focus on any sounds that might hint something is wrong—someone yelling, screaming, or household items breaking. But all I hear are muffled voices and the distant sound of televisions playing behind closed doors.
When I reach the door to Mila’s apartment, I press my ear against it, listening carefully for any sign of movement or indication that someone is inside. But all I’m met with is silence.
I curl my knuckles against the door and knock three times, waiting a few minutes before knocking again. When there’s still no response, I start to assume the place is empty. I turn to leave, but then suddenly, the door creaks open slightly.
To my surprise, Dean’s face appears in the narrow gap, the door almost closed, blocking my view and barring me from stepping inside.
His eyes widen when he sees me, as if I’m the last person he expected to see, and quickly pulls the door closer against his side.
He looks frazzled, his hair disheveled, and his eyes are raw with redness and exhaustion.
He looks like he’s been through hell and back.
“What do you want?” he grumbles, his words clipped and tense.
“Where’s Mila?”
“She’s asleep,” he hisses, clearly annoyed by my intrusion. “She’s not feeling well, so she took an Advil and went for a nap.”
That’s total bullshit. Mila would never miss a shift without notifying me first. This prick is hiding something. I can feel it deep in my bones.
“Can you get her for me? I need to see if she’s okay,” I say, keeping my tone calm, even though inside I’m a heartbeat away from kicking the door down.
He glances briefly over his shoulder at something, then turns back to face me, shaking his head. “She’s asleep. I’m not going to wake her.”
“Dean, you’d better get Mila out here right now, or I’ll bust through this fucking door whether you like it or not. So, what’s it going to be?”
He swallows hard, a flicker of fear crossing his eyes. “I told you she—”
I don’t give him the chance to finish. I storm through the door with such force that it slams open, knocking him back a step.
My eyes immediately find Mila, struggling to sit up on the couch, her expression dazed and confused. The moment she sees me, her eyes widen, brimming with tears that spill over—a raw, overwhelming relief written across her face.
I move towards her, but pause when I finally take in the ice pack beside her, angry red bruises and scratch marks all around her cheek, neck and jaw, swollen lips, and dark circles under watery, bloodshot eyes.
I’m no expert, but after all my years in the police force, I recognise that look instantly.
It’s the unmistakable signs of a struggle... Of someone being violently choked.
The angry marks, the disheveled and disoriented state, the shaking—it’s all there.
And there’s only one person in this room who’s responsible for all of that.
My fists clench at my sides, my teeth grinding together so hard they feel seconds away from shattering.
It takes every ounce of strength inside me to fight the urge to end him.
I slowly turn to face Dean, and the arsehole has the nerve to lift his chin, feigning confidence, as if he’s not the least bit afraid. But he should be. That you definitely should be.
“I’d normally ask what happened here.” I fix him with a cold, steely glare before gesturing towards Mila, who sits silently on the couch, watching. “But one look at her tells me everything I need to know.”
He shrugs, as if completely unfazed by the horrific sight of his girlfriend.
That single act of indifference is all it takes to set me off.
I barrel into him with full force, sending us both crashing to the ground.
In seconds, I’m on top of him, my forearm pressing down hard against his neck, trapping him on the floor.
Dean thrashes violently beneath me, swiping and kicking with everything he’s got, but I barely move an inch.
“Listen here you fucking coward,” I growl into his face, my voice seething with unrestrained fury. “You think that hurting women makes you tough? Makes you feel in control, huh? Well, guess what, you piece of filthy shit. You’re about to learn real quick just how far that mindset will get you.”
In an instant my fist strikes his stomach, the impact hard enough to wind him, while my other arm tightens against his neck. A strangled grunt escapes his throat, and before he can even draw another breath, my fist slams down again for a second brutal blow.
When I feel him limp beneath me, I stand and grab the collar of his hoodie, dragging him across the floor towards the door.
He groans, likely from the pain in his abdomen and neck, but I ignore it.
I yank him roughly to his feet, not caring that he’s injured.
As soon as he’s upright, I shove him hard out of the apartment, his body slamming against the wall across the hall.
He lets out another agonised groan as he crumples to the floor in a heap.
When he makes no move to get up, I walk over to him, kneeling down until we’re face-to-face. I look him dead in the eyes, and smirk. “Not so tough and powerful now that you’re fighting someone your own size, huh?”
He clutches his stomach, groaning, but doesn’t respond. Smart choice!
“You want to know something, Dean? I knew from the start I couldn’t trust you with Mila. So, I did a little digging on you.”
His eyes flicker with a hint of panic, widening just enough to betray his composure, yet he still says nothing, so I continue.
“Can you imagine my surprise when I found out this wasn’t the first time you’ve laid a hand on a woman?
You managed to get away with just a slap on the wrist, thanks to daddy dearest. But here’s the thing.
I also know that if you were to fuck up again, you’d lose your position at the company and your inheritance.
And guess what? A little birdie told me you just got yourself a shiny new promotion. Wouldn’t want to risk that, would we?”
His gaze drops to the floor, unable to look me in the eyes.
I let out a low chuckle. “That’s what I thought. So, here’s what you’re going to do.
Listen carefully, because I’m only going to say this once, okay?”
His eyes meet mine, holding it for a moment before he nods slowly.
“You stay the hell away from Mila. You are not to contact her, see her, or even breathe her name. If I find out you were anywhere near her, I will personally hunt you down and destroy your fucking life, piece by piece. Am I clear?” My voice remains steady, but every word drips with pure venom.
His face is a mix of defeat and exhaustion, but he manages a slow nod.
I rise to my feet and look down at the pitiful excuse of a man. “While I go back inside and clean up the mess you started, you’d better pray that Mila’s okay.”
He doesn’t speak another word, only letting out a low, pained groan in response.
“I’ll personally make sure everything you left in that apartment gets sent back to you.
You’re no longer welcome here. Now get going, arsehole.”