Chapter Twelve
Serenity
It’s just one night, and Rage is probably right.
The Scorpions don’t know I’ve gone rogue yet, but I don’t think they’re going to let my brother’s debt go unsettled.
I can run, but I’ll always be looking behind me.
I should just suck their dicks for as long as it takes and then maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally be left to a life of peace.
Rage and his club act like I’m fine staying here, but even if that was a possibility, I’m not sure I would want to stay. I mean, nothing here speaks calm.
I toss and turn all night, then finally decide it’s best if I sneak out before he wakes. A clean getaway would be best for everyone. Rage has enough to think about now that his sister is living under his roof. She needs to be his focus.
I’m so pissed Cole unloaded my entire car into my room.
Now I have to try and load all this without waking Rage.
The sun isn’t up quite yet when I begin loading boxes into my car.
Peanut follows me in and out a few times without incident, but then he begins to block my way, and I keep having to work around him.
“Peanut, please move,” I say, trying to lug my larger suitcase out the door. I manage to get it off the front porch, but before I make it to the car, he grabs ahold of one of the side handles with his teeth.
We begin to play tug of war as the sun peeks over the horizon.
When I pause to catch my breath, Peanut starts dragging my bag back toward the house. I blow my hair out of my eyes, readying myself to face off with him. “Goddammit dog, you’re not helping!”
A chuckle comes from the porch as Peanut and I resume our tug of war.
“What’s going on out here?” Rage asks, bringing a cup of steaming coffee to his lips.
“What’s going on is that your dog is being a menace. Can you not control him?”
He shrugs. “Looks like he’s doing his job to me.”
“Keeping me hostage?”
Rage ignores my accusation. “Fun fact about cane corsos. Their bite grip is as strong as a lion’s.”
“You could have mentioned that sooner,” I say, releasing my bag.
Peanut snorts in victory. He hauls my suitcase right up the stairs. Rage steps aside and holds the door open for him.
When he disappears inside the house, I stomp my foot in frustration. “Rage, you know this is stupid. Just let me leave.”
“Where would you go?”
“I don’t know, but it’s not your problem. I’m not your problem.”
We both tip our heads to the side, listening. Rage instantly sets his cup on the banister and rushes inside. His sister is crying.
I stand in the middle of the yard and throw my hands in the air. “What the fuck?” I yell to the heavens.
How am I supposed to get out of here? Between Rage and his dog, I’d have better luck busting through a concrete wall.
When the crying inside turns to screaming, I decide to go in and see what’s going on. I find Rage squatting down by his sister’s bed, trying to calm her. Mila has pressed herself into the farthest corner away from him. She looks terrified.
“Mila, it’s okay honey. Let’s go get something to eat. I have pancakes and eggs,” he says calmly.
Mila shakes her head furiously at him.
“I have cereal,” he tries again.
The poor thing is so tiny, and all of this crying is only draining what little energy she has. “Um, is there anything I can do to help?” I ask quietly.
The little girl instantly scoots to the end of the bed, holding her hands out to me.
Without hesitation, I step closer and scoop her up into my arms. She tucks her face into the crook of my neck. She’s having a hard time catching her breath as she tries to calm herself. I rub her back gently. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re safe here,” I tell her over and over.
Rage and I stare at each other as her little sobs turn into hiccups.
When she quiets, I try to talk to her. “I don’t know about you, but my tummy is getting all rumbly. Should we go and see what we can find to eat?”
She doesn’t respond, but that’s okay.
Rage rises from his position on the floor and waves for me to exit in front of him. His hand brushes against the small of my back as he escorts us down the hall, encouraging us along.
When we get to the kitchen, I walk over to the glass doors. “Oh look, Mila. There’s a deer outside.”
She doesn’t lift her head, but she does turn her face so she can see him. “He’s having his breakfast too,” I tell her as we watch the critter nibble on the leaves of a low hanging branch.
Rage moves around the kitchen quietly. I can tell he’s being extra cautious with his movements to avoid startling her with any sudden noises. Her outburst this morning has him concerned, but I think it’s to be expected. He admitted himself Mila doesn’t know him. It’s going to take time.
When the deer wanders off, I move over to the table and sit down, keeping her hugged tight against me.
CPS never took me from my mom, but it doesn’t mean I was never left with strangers. I was. A lot. I remember how scared I used to be when it happened. Sometimes it was okay, and sometimes it wasn’t.
I want Mila to feel as safe as possible.
Bravely, she begins to check out our surroundings. Her gaze lingers on her big brother. His face is pulled into a scowl, but I think it’s just because he’s deep in thought. His looks are intimidating to me too, but I’m slowly learning he’s not as angry as he appears.
When he walks toward us with our plates, she turns her face against me, hiding from him. The way his lips curl down at the corners breaks my heart. I wish he wasn’t taking this so personally. She’s just really scared.
“Do you want to sit in your own chair?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, remaining on my lap, but she does accept bites of food when I offer them to her.
Rage sits on the opposite side of the table from us.
“She’s eating. That’s a good sign,” I tell him.
He nods but doesn’t say anything.
Eventually I get her to take the fork, and she begins to feed herself. My fingers begin to pick at some of the knots in her hair, trying to loosen them.
“I’m going to have to call Shelly and have her come over and cut it. Seems like short hair is in these days,” he tells me sadly, doing his best to make light of the situation. “I hope she cooperates.”
“Did they try to get them out at the hospital?”
“No. They gave her a sponge bath, but her hair hasn’t even been washed.”
“Then you don’t know that it needs cut. Let me work on it before you call Shelly.”
“I thought you were leaving?”
“Well, I am …” I focus on her hair. “But I can do this first.”
He leans back in his chair, watching the two of us. “CPS is coming out today to do a home inspection.”
My eyes lift to his.
“You and I both know that’s not going to go well if she’s terrified of me while they are here.”
He’s right. They’ve already given him a rough time, and even though she’s afraid of him now, something in my heart tells me she’s right where she belongs.
Mila reaches up and pats the side of my face. “More,” she says quietly.
It’s the first time I’ve heard her speak, and it pulls at my heartstrings.
Rage is instantly on his feet to make her more food.
I guess it would be okay if I stayed a day or two.
Just long enough to help them with the transition.
I guess I owe him that much. He did save me from killing myself.
I’m glad he did. It gave me a chance to pay the universe back for getting Mr. Johnson killed.
And I really didn’t want to die, I just …
well, I guess I just wanted peace. In that moment, it felt like death was the only way to achieve it.
When he places another pancake in front of us, this one with Mickey Mouse ears, she doesn’t shy away. She still gives him a wary look, but it’s a start.
“I’ll stay a few more days, but only until she gets a little more comfortable with you.”
He sits down and watches his sister eat, pleased that she seems happy with his creation. “They might run a background check on you, since you’re staying here,” he warns.
Mila watches me take a bite and then goes back to her own food. “That’s okay,” I tell him. “I’ve never been in trouble or anything.”
He nods, but he already knows this. Men like him don’t let you in their home unsupervised without doing a little vetting of their own.
“You’ll let me do most of the talking?” he asks.
“Yeah, of course. I’m just here to help.”
“Good.” He finishes his breakfast and then gets up to clean the kitchen.
“Are you full?” I ask Mila. I hand her a glass of milk, hoping to get a few more drops in her.
She nods, rubbing her syrupy, sticky hands together.
“If … if you don’t mind, I could give her a bath. The club brought everything we need, and I remember seeing a bottle of spray-in conditioner. I could see if it helps detangle her hair.”
He rubs his index finger and thumb over his temples. “Yeah, hopefully she’ll agree. She threw a fit when the nurses tried to clean her at the hospital.”
“We’ll be just fine, won’t we, Mila?” I say, bouncing the little girl playfully on my lap.
She gives me the shyest of smiles, and it honestly brings me joy I didn’t know existed.
“I think I saw a mermaid in your new room. Do you want to see if she’ll swim in the bathtub?”
The little girl doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t need to. I saw her shoulders lift the tiniest bit at the word mermaid.
“Your mermaid has pretty red hair. Let’s go see if we can find her.”
When I stand with her in my arms, I meet Rage’s gaze. His face softens, and he mouths “thank you.”
I’m sure he’s still so incredibly worried about her. He doesn’t really know what she’s been through. I feel his eyes on my back as we continue down the hall. Now that I think about it, maybe he does know what she’s been through. He was once that woman’s child too.