Chapter Thirteen
Serenity
“Hello, ladies,” Rage says, holding the door open for the two workers.
The one who was at the hospital walks over to us. “Oh, you look so much better. Do you remember me, sweetheart?” she asks Mila.
Mila turns around in my arms and wraps herself around me like a spider monkey.
“Ah, she’s shy,” the woman says, dismissing everything she’s been through.
“She’s not shy. She’s traumatized,” I announce coldly, speaking up for Mila.
“And you are?”
“I’m Serenity.” When I hold my hand out to her, I notice something there that wasn’t before.
“Serenity is my fiancée,” Rage interrupts, walking over to stand by my side.
The woman still has my hand. “What a pretty engagement ring.”
We both look at it together, because what the fuck? Where did that come from?
She releases me. “Wait. You’re the woman who found Mila. The babysitter.” Her eyes narrow on Rage.
I’m so stunned at the rock on my finger I don’t even realize what she’s saying at first.
Rage begins to explain, but I jump in before he has a chance. “Yeah, I knew how worried Rage was about his baby sister, so when I bumped into his mom in town one day I offered to babysit. I’ll admit she didn’t know I was engaged to her son, but then again, she never asked.”
“You had a no contact order." She looks at Rage.
“I upheld that,” he tells her.
She looks between the two of us.
“It’s a darn good thing she took me up on that offer to babysit, or you would have had a lot of explaining to do as to why you ignored a viable concern about a minor.”
She chooses to ignore my accusations to make one of her own. “Did Rage tell you to approach his mother?” she asks, basically accusing Rage of violating the order.
“No. In fact he forbade me to go over there, but I answer to the call of my conscience. You should try it some time.”
Rage places his hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Mila’s safe now.”
The worker’s mouth snaps shut.
“Why don’t you show us where Mila will be sleeping,” the other woman says, trying to hide her smile. She looks to be fairly young and hopefully not as hardened as her coworker.
“Yeah, of course,” Rage says, escorting the two women down the hall.
As soon as they disappear, I hold my hand in front of my face. When the fuck did he put this on my finger?
I take a deep breath, turning down the television so I can eavesdrop.
“The club really came together for us,” Rage says. I hear him tell them how I managed to detangle Mila’s hair. “And this is my and Serenity’s room.”
“You have a lovely home,” the younger worker says.
“Thank you. I’ve worked very hard to get where I’m at today.”
They walk into the kitchen, and I hear them open a few cupboards and the refrigerator.
When they come back to the living room, Mila is sitting quietly on my lap playing with her mermaid. She eyes the two women warily.
“So, everything seems to be going okay then?” the older woman asks Rage.
“As good as can be expected,” he tells her honestly. “As you can see, Mila’s attached herself to Serenity. I have to give her all the credit for making my sister’s transition into our home so smooth. She even painted the room.” He tosses a thumb toward the hallway.
“You’re the one who bought the paint,” I say, trying to give him more credit than he’s giving himself.
The two women look at each other before the older one speaks. “I’m going to give you some advice. I’m not sure when your wedding is, but you might want to bump it up to before your court date for permanent guardianship.”
My heart clean fucking stops. Say what?
Rage places his hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “We’ll talk about it. Thank you for your advice. Really. All we want is what’s best for Mila.” Again, another squeeze. He’s talking to her, but really it’s directed toward me.
Everyone says a quick and formal goodbye, and Rage walks them out to their car.
I look at Mila. “Do you want to play outside?”
“Outside?”
“Yeah, let’s go get some fresh air.”
She rubs her fingers over her nose but gives me the cutest of little nods.
I walk her down the hallway, pausing in front of Rage’s now open room. My things are laid out on his dresser. This must have been what he and Cole were doing while I was brushing Mila’s hair.
The more I think about it, the angrier I become. This is impossible! I can’t stay here. What is he trying to do? I can’t believe he lied to CPS.
As I’m helping Mila put her shoes on, I think back to my own experiences as a kid. I wish someone would have done whatever it took to get me away from my bad situation, even if that meant lying.
Mila runs her fingers over her bright pink sneakers. “Mila’s shoes?”
I bite back tears. “Yes, these are Mila’s shoes,” I tell her, pulling her to her feet.
She holds her hands up for me to carry her. I don’t mind. She’s light as a feather, but I really need to be mindful of letting her walk as much as I can so that she builds up her strength.
We stop by the kitchen to gather a few things for us to snack on down by the lake. Rage steps into the room as I’m placing them in a bag.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
I don’t look at him. “I was wondering the same about you, but Mila and I are going for a walk.”
Mila peeks at him from between her fingers.
“I’ll come with you guys,” he tells me.
“Sorry, but this is a no boys allowed walk.”
His sister smiles and snuggles closer to me, waiting for his reaction.
He takes a deep breath. “I see. Well, I guess I’ll find something to do while you girls are out.”
“You do that,” I say, heading toward the back door.
Peanut follows me but turns back to see if Rage is coming with us.
“It’s okay, boy. Keep our girls safe.”
I bite my tongue because of the way Mila looks at me. He’s putting us together in the same sentence on purpose.
When I get outside, I set her on her feet but keep her hand in mine. “Should we go check out the lake?”
Her dark eyes squint up at me, and it tugs at something deep in my heart.
This is getting out of hand. I’m slowly …
no, there’s nothing slow about it. I’m quickly falling in love with Mila, but I need to think about this realistically.
I’m not engaged to her brother. I’m nothing to her …
but yet at the moment, I’m everything. I’m the only person she feels safe with right now.
How can I take that away from her? And is my love even real, or am I projecting my own childhood desires onto her?
“Look,” Mila says, plopping down on a grassy spot by the lake. She picks a dandelion and hands it to me.
“What a pretty flower.” I lower myself beside her and begin weaving dandelions together to make her a crown of the yellow flowers.
She watches me intently, her hands resting on my leg as she leans in close. After I’m finished, I place it on her head. This is the one time I wished I carried a phone so I could show her what she looks like.
I stand up and walk with her to the edge of the water. “Can you see yourself? Look how pretty you are.”
She holds my hand tightly as she leans over. The way she looks up in awe after seeing her reflection doesn’t help this stupid thing in my chest from falling for her a little more.
We continue to explore the area, and then we find a quiet spot in the grass to have our snack.
I cut up an apple for us, handing her slices.
It breaks my heart when she acts like she’s never had one before.
She probably hasn’t, though. Fresh fruit, or fresh anything for that matter, isn’t something you find in a place like the one I found her in.
Everyone goes on about their days while children like Mila are forgotten.
Many are living in horrible conditions, and the crappy part about it is that these kids don’t even know what life could be like.
All they know is the circumstances they are in.
It’s all they’ve ever known. My heart aches just thinking about her trapped in that dark room.
Not even knowing the sun was shining just beyond those walls.
Rage didn’t forget her. He was trying to do things the right way, and the system still didn’t save his sister …
I did. For how long will she be safe? I really don’t know.
They could take her away from him and place her in foster care.
I know there are some very good homes out there, but what if she ends up in one that isn’t?
I spin the ring on my finger, not sure I want to be bound to his storm. The man is a walking, talking red flag. He’s a one percenter. He smuggles guns. He’s a grumpy asshole, and last but not least, he’s bossy.
My gaze goes back to the house. He’s been watching us from the deck since we came outside.
I lie back in the grass, folding my arms behind my head. Mila copies me.
“The clouds look like marshmallows today.”
She giggles.
I roll to my side, running my fingers through her soft hair as she stares at the sky.
For a long time I allowed my mom’s problems, and then my brother’s, to become mine. It felt like we were in a sinking ship, and I was the only one with a bucket bailing out the water. Then one day I just set the bucket down and walked away. I chose me.
For the last ten years I’ve managed to ignore them.
I managed to stay in a little bubble of my own making.
Work, coffee, and home. It was quiet and peaceful, but it wasn’t always that way.
It took almost two years before I finally let my guard down and allowed myself to breathe.
Two years of letting go of the things and people who hurt me.
I learned to forgive the same system that failed Mila, because it failed me too. I had to accept it and move on.
My thoughts are running wild. I don’t know how I even got here. I don’t know what to do …
Mila sits up and scoots close to me. Her lips pull down at the corners when she sees I’m getting emotional. I wipe my eyes and sit up with her, giving her a smile to let her know I’m okay.