Chapter 8
She could smell her own blood. It was bitter.
Unable to move or even open her eyes at first, she heard this echoing ringing in her brain.
Mila felt the cold floor against her back, and realized she was still in her party dress.
Just that fast, she had forgotten where she was and what happened.
As soon as they dragged her into the abandoned three-story factory, they didn’t hesitate to start beating the shit out of her.
Once a bad bitch, she was literally dragged, kicked, and used to mop the dust-covered floor until she was nothing but a balled-up bruise.
Eirian had allowed Sekani and one of his homie’s crazy ass babies’ mamas to dog walk Mila.
Coughing and spitting up blood, she managed to crack one banged-up eye open and peer around at her surroundings.
It was dark, and the dingy-yellow light shined at an angle from above.
It was one of those sepia stained-glass panes.
The rest of the room was empty and dark, filled with shadows that she swore were going to jump out at her.
She kept having flashes of the torture they inflicted on her in just a matter of minutes.
“Snake ass, traitor ass bitch!” Sekani smashed her fist into Mila’s face repeatedly until she lost the energy in her arm.
Stepping back, she shook her fist out and cicled Mila as Chey, her partner in crime, stepped up to the plate next. She delivered long, drawn-out blows to her face and body until Mila fell over vomitting from the trauma.
“Is that all you got, little girl?” Mila mocked, only further angering her.
“This is for my brother, bitch!” Sekani used every ounce of strength she had and struck Mila so hard she saw fucking stars.
“And let’s not forget our father,” Eirian said, inching toward her out of the darkness.
He appeared like the fucking boogeyman. By that time, Mila was dizzy and barely able to even see straight.
On the floor, on her knees, body swaying, she could barely stand.
She was on the floor on her knees, body swaying back and forth, barely standing upright.
Eirian floated above her like a storm cloud, unpredictable and ugly up close.
“I thought I wanted this to be quick. It seemed fitting.” Eirian pretended to be deep in thought.
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face.
“Now… a nigga just want to walk away from here and know that you are in pain and suffering, and dying a slow ass fucking death. That shit is just plain old fucking karma.” The smile on his face disappeared, and his demeanor went cold.
Mila saw Derrien, up close and reincarnate. Evil had reformed in his son. Sometimes more than just similar features were passed on through children. A person’s satanic persona could also be inherited. That much was evident in Eirian.
Mila’s brain glitched, and she slipped back into the present time. When she attempted to sit up, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through her, and she lost her breath.
“Agh!” she wailed, doubling back over onto the ground.
Something was wrong. The strong odor of gas struck her nostrils. It was there all along, lingering, but when she took that deep breath, it was louder.
“No,” she whispered in desperation. “No.” She shook her head as the idea of dying from inhaling the odor plagued her.
Hyperventilating, her heart rapped so loud it thudded in her ears and she wept.
This was it. This wasn’t how she wanted to go.
She thought of her kids, and tears stung her eyes laying there, curled up, one slanted eye fixed on the broken ceiling above her.
She smiled to herself as her oldest daughter, Mikki’s bright face greeted her with a beam that lit up like the sun.
“My baby.” Tears spilled down the side of Mila’s face as her breathing became shallow.
She finally felt her eyes grow so heavy she could no longer hold them open.
Suddenly, someone scooped her off the floor in their big, strong arms. Weak and lethargic, she could barely lift her head to take in the stranger.
The only thing she knew was that she felt safe.
That wasn’t something that came easy to her.
Tucked away in the back of the large truck, she watched her savior hop into the passenger’s seat.
“Drive,” Mila heard a familiar voice speak as she slipped off into darkness.
Rose hit the light to the safe house as soon as he entered the front hall.
It was more of a cabin about an hour outside of town.
Stepping aside the dimly lit entry, he allowed Mille, Minx, and Luna to go inside before closing up and locking the door behind them.
Minx was on pins and needles. She kept getting cold chills, so she had to hold herself to shake that shit off.
Staring around at the unfamiliar setting, she followed her brother’s lead into the living room.
He pounced right onto the sofa and kicked his feet up.
Luna was quiet, feeling some kind of way about how everything went down.
She was scared. For herself and for Finn.
She always knew the kind of life that he and Rose led, but knowing it and seeing it up close were two totally different things.
She held herself close, arms draped across her chest as she peered around the warmth of the living room.
“How long are we going to be here? What is going on? And where is Finn?” she interrogated.
Rose was already exhausted and feeling the pressure since he wasn’t out there on the hunt like everyone else.
“I don’t know. I’m waiting to hear back from Finn or Jonah.” Rose took a seat next to Mille on the sofa as his head dropped back against the cushion.
“What the fuck was that!” Luna lost her cool, and Minx zoned out thinking about her mother. She’d already lost one parent. The thought of losing another had her ready to go into panic mode.
“That was the grand opening of my business, Rose. It wasn’t supposed to be the opening act to war!”
“Luna, sit and calm the fuck down,” Rose instructed, sighing heavily as his phone went off in his pocket. “Finn, talk to me.”
The mention of her man had Luna all ears, and she eagerly moved closer to Rose to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“Found this old factory. There’s fresh blood and broken glass all over this mothafucka. If they were here, they ain’t no more. Mila’s gone, Rose. And it smells like fucking gas around here.” Finn sounded defeated, which was rare for him. Rose sloped forward on the edge of the sofa.
“Okay. So what are we doing? Y’all got mothafuckas combing the area, right?”
“Yeah, the team is out there,” Finn assured him. “I’m not going nowhere. So tell Luna to stay put and don’t be overthinking shit. I’ll see her soon. Rose, keep your eyes open. I don’t think this shit is over.”
“Oh, I know it ain’t. Thanks, bro. Keep me updated.”
“What was that about? What did he say?” Luna wrung her hands together and paced.
“He said sit ya hyperactive ass down and have a damn Valium,” Rose huffed, bringing himself to his feet.
Luna cut her eyes at him, annoyed as hell.
“Fuck you, Rose! I’m worried. I ain’t never had to deal with no shit like this before.
Finn comes with a lot of fucking baggage.
You both do, and it’s called the streets.
They got a hold on you. I’m not even sure y’all realize how much.
I do. I realized it when Max got killed.
That changed it all,” Luna muttered sadly.
Minx didn’t say anything, but her girl’s words hit her; that was for sure.
She’d been in the midst of this lifestyle so long that it no longer bothered her, making her numb to a lot.
She wasn’t even sure that was a good thing.
All she knew was she had to always save face because she never knew who was watching.
Being deemed weak wasn’t something that the Wards did, ever.
Luna grew up in the hood, but she never had to go through no shit like that.
She loved her town, but unlike Minx, she didn’t want to grow old there.
She wanted to see the world and live in different places. Being a target wasn’t part of the plan.
“Luna—”
“No, Minx, you are used to this. I’m not.” Luna pressed her hand into her chest. “Finn is out there doing God knows what. Mila is missing. None of this is normal or okay. Your father was blown up less than two months ago!”
“You don’t have to remind me of that, Luna,” Minx muttered. “You need to sit and calm down. Going crazy and pacing a hole in the damn floor is not going to make Finn come walking through that door any sooner.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Minx. Excuse me if I can’t just calm the fuck down,” Luna said, serious but sarcastic at the same time.
“Where’s the bedroom? I’m tired,” Mille asked.
“Just go up the stairs and pick one,” Rose told him.
Luna hadn’t sat down. She kept circling the center coffee table with the worst thoughts bouncing around her head.
Rose was anxious too, tapping his finger against the arm of the sofa while watching her come unglued.
He shot his eyes over to Minx, and she stared off.
He reached for her hand and intertwined his with hers.
“What did Finn find?” she asked gently, staring up at him with glossy eyes.
“Minx—”
“Rose, I’m not some fragile ass little figurine that’s going to break. Tell me the truth.”
“They found an abandoned warehouse. There was blood, broken glass, and faint traces gas. There was no sign of Mila though,” Rose informed her.
Minx released a sigh. She was sick to her stomach with this overwhelming feeling that she just couldn’t place. It rumbled loudly, drawing Rose’s attention.
“You hungry?” He asked, smirking.
“Apparently,” she muttered, sheepish.
“Come on. Let’s go find something to eat.” Rose pulled her to her feet and guided her to the back of the home where the kitchen was located.