9. Mila
9
MILA
I stayed underneath the blanket, my headphones plugged in and the music blasting in my ears.
If I didn’t hear anything, then nothing was happening right outside my door, right?
I didn't know how much time had passed since the kick that sent me into hiding underneath my blanket, but I could almost convince myself it was nothing more than a dream.
Like it didn’t happen.
But I knew it did.
Only, it happened once, and I couldn’t be sure if they were there for me specifically—perhaps some of Dad’s men had survived the attack and were now looking for me to pay for Dad’s debt—or if they were looking for someone else and got the wrong door.
I hoped it was the latter.
This motel had no security, and the wooden door was flimsy at best. Had they really tried, they would have been able to get in.
But no one came, and I was too scared to leave the safety of the covers on the bed.
I couldn’t even move.
Eventually, I fell asleep, even though I didn’t remember doing so.
By the time I woke up, the sun had barely risen, and I was unbearably hot.
I pulled the blanket away from my head and squinted in the dark room.
Was this what my life was going to be like from now on? Always on the run and always watching my back?
I didn’t know what happened at the clubhouse. I assumed everyone there that night died, but if, by some stroke of luck, Dad and his men survived, he would be looking for me. And New Orleans would probably be the first place he looked.
I couldn’t possibly stay here for that long.
I had thought I could find something stable for once in my life, but even that seemed to be a distant dream right now.
I stayed in bed and stared at the ceiling. There was no chance of going back to sleep now, but I also couldn’t bring myself to leave the bed. It wasn’t the safest place in the world, but right now, it was the only thing keeping me from freaking out completely.
It wasn’t until the sun was fully out—mid-morning—that I finally dragged myself out of bed and sluggishly made my way into the bathroom.
It was a slow morning.
I hadn’t gone anywhere yesterday, but I had work today. Should I go or should I leave New Orleans for good? I didn’t know anymore.
Indecision bit at me, yet I had the feeling that whatever I decided to do wouldn’t matter anyway.
Fate always caught up to me.
I plastered on a fake smile as I waited for a man in his late forties and his companion, a younger woman in her early thirties, to decide on what they wanted for dinner.
They were taking their sweet time, as if the decision was life-changing and they didn’t want to make the wrong choice.
“I’ll have the grilled salmon,” the woman ordered. “With a side of steamed broccoli and mashed potatoes.”
I nodded, wrote down the order, and turned to the man.
“A ribeye, rare. Same sides,” the man replied without looking up at me.
“Coming right up,” I said, walking away and dropping off their order for the kitchen.
Last night, I’d decided to stay in New Orleans—just for the month, at least. I couldn’t bring myself to search for news about Chicago. The Heartless Saints MC was infamous, especially to the people in my generation. They grew up seeing him on the news every other weekend, and somehow, Dad had never gotten caught.
If the chapter was destroyed, it would be huge.
It would only be a matter of time before that circulated throughout the country.
But for now, I stayed in ignorant bliss. Just for the night, I told myself.
If the club hadn’t been massacred, then I would leave New Orleans. Knowing Dad, he was probably sending one of his goons after me.
And if they were gone…
I was free, wasn’t I?
I didn’t think there was ever a time in my life that I was free—I hardly knew what the word meant.
But it was something.
For the rest of the night, I worked on autopilot. Drinks were filled, food was brought out, and fake smiles were passed around. I should be ecstatic to be doing something so normal, and a part of me was, but another part felt like something was missing.
As if this wasn’t really what I was supposed to be doing right now. And sometime during the night, a low hum of anxiety had taken a play on my nerves, making me feel uneasy.
It was a little past eleven o’clock when the last customer left, and I was able to work on my cleaning duties. Technically, I was still in training, but the restaurant was so desperate for workers they had put me on as one of the main servers. I lost count of how many times I had messed up tonight, and the only thing that made me feel better was the thought that this was temporary. I wasn’t going to stay here forever.
Still, I was glad when I was able to walk out of the restaurant. I barely said anything to anyone.
Louisiana wasn’t cold by any means, but the stress, exhaustion, and lack of sleep made me feel bone cold.
Suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Pausing, I looked around at what appeared to be an empty lot, save for the few cars belonging to the employees. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, but I swore it felt like someone was watching me.
And years of living with the MC taught me to always trust my gut instinct. My grip around my car keys tightened, reminding me I could always use them as a weapon—should it come to that.
I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. God, I wasn’t in the kind of headspace for any new trauma. Not that I would ever be prepared for experiencing new traumas in my life, but tonight especially.
I internally rolled my eyes at my own thoughts as I quickened my pace to my car, cursing the fact that the lot had been nearly full when I pulled into work, so much so that I’d had to park at the furthest spot from the restaurant as possible.
Footsteps sounded behind me. I didn’t think. I took off at a run.
The footsteps got louder. And louder.
Fuck. Whoever was behind me was obviously following me. There was no way to put it off as a coincidence. A scream was pulled out of me when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder, pulling me back. I lost my balance and fell, landing on my palms.
The man stood no more than two feet away from me—huge, dirty black boots, dark blue jeans, a stained white shirt, a swollen neck, and a nasty grin.
He might have escaped the attack, but not unscathed.
“Finally found you, you little bitch. Of course, you would fucking run as soon as the club got attacked,” Lenny said. His blue eyes gleamed viciously in the moonlight, but it was too dark for me to discern if he was high off his head.
He was a big motherfucker. Of course he was. You didn’t get to be the sergeant-at-arms to one of the most notorious 1% MCs in the world without looking like you could kill a man with your bare hands.
And right now, he was looking at me like he wanted to kill me with his bare hands.
I moved back, my legs shaking.
“No answer?” he sneered. “That’s your problem. No fucking loyalty to the club.”
I pulled my lips back in disgust. “Loyalty? You want me to show loyalty to a club that held me captive my entire life? To the man who whipped me in front of everyone for daring to run away?”
I still had the fucking scars to show for it.
I shook my head. “I don’t owe anyone any loyalty except for myself.”
He spat on the ground. A few inches to the left and his spit would have hit me. “I’m gonna enjoy taking you back to him to deal with.”
“Who?”
Was he talking about Dad? Was Dad alive? How the hell did he manage to survive that?
Lenny didn’t answer me. He bent down and yanked a handful of my hair, pulling me up to a standing position. I screamed, wrapping my hands around his grip, trying to get him to lessen it.
“Shut up, little bitch,” he screamed in my face and slapped me.
A metallic taste hit as he pulled me to a white van parked next to my car. I struggled even more. I wasn’t going back to the MC. Fuck that. He would have to kill me first.
“Let go! Let go of me, you piece of shit!”
I kicked and caught him in the middle. He loosened his hold on me but didn’t let go.
“Oh, you fucking bitch. If you don’t stop moving, I’m going to show you what a dick feels like as soon as we get into the van.”
How was that supposed to make me stop moving?
“No!” I tried to collapse to the ground with my entire weight, but he was still gripping my hair, and—“Fuck, let go!”
He tried to haul me up over his shoulder. The second he succeeded in carrying me would be game over. I punched him in his nose. His head fell back, and I tried to escape.
He let go of my hair and wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me close.
“Stop moving,” he grunted.
I opened my mouth to scream again when I heard a thud behind us. Lenny paused, and I did too, mostly wondering what could have taken his attention away.
He turned us around.
My eyes took a moment to adjust, and I vaguely made out the outline of another person standing in the shadow by the dark car closest to us.
“Who the fuck are you?” Lenny asked.
“Why don’t you put the girl down and find out?”
I tensed, recognizing the voice.
Silas.
What were the odds that I would run into him now?
Lenny chuckled. “Mind your own business, boy. This is between me and the girl. Now run along before you get hurt.”
Silas pushed away from the car and moved closer to us. I was able to make out his features. He didn’t look as amused as he sounded. His eyes briefly moved to me before he brought his focus back to Lenny.
“Want to find out if it’s me or you who gets hurt?”
Lenny scoffed and threw me to the ground. I grunted when my backside hit the concrete, sure I would bruise there later.
Lenny didn’t wait. He charged at Silas, and I could only stand there in stunned silence as Silas expertly dodged him.
Lenny pulled up short, turned around, and tried to get Silas again. Silas moved out of the way at the last second and struck, hitting Lenny right in the ribs. I flinched. Even from where I was, the sound was loud.
Silas didn’t give Lenny time to recover. He kept up with the punches, never slowing down. Lenny easily outweighed Silas, and had a few inches on him, but the way they fought told me Silas had experience taking on a bigger opponent. He knew what he was doing, and Lenny was sloppy. I didn’t even think he got in one punch.
My stomach caved in relief as blood dripped down Lenny’s face. I wasn’t even sure where he could be bleeding from, and it didn’t look like it mattered at this point, considering how tired he looked.
One final blow to the side of his head, and he went down.
I would have thought he was dead had I not seen his chest push in and out with every hard breath he took.
Silas turned to me. I tried to move away.
He didn’t even look winded, and his long legs easily ate up the distance between us until he was standing in front of me. I was still on the ground. I should have used the opportunity when they were fighting to run, but I didn’t.
And now it was too late.
I swallowed hard as Silas leaned down and pulled me up.
He searched the area, and pulled me to my left. I was still too out of it to really put up a protest. It wasn’t until he bent down and picked up my keys that I got out of my head.
“What about him?” I asked, my voice soft. As if I was afraid there might be someone around to hear us.
“Don’t worry about the bastard?—”
“Lenny,” I interrupted. I didn’t know why I did it. It wasn’t like his name was all that important.
“Right,” Silas said slowly. “Lenny. Someone will take care of it.”
I shot him a sharp look. “Take care of it?”
“Yeah. Call the cops. Take him to the hospital. That sort of shit. I doubt he’ll say anything. Why? What did you think I meant when I said take care of it?”
I shook my head and looked away. I needed to leave the MC behind me, and that included thinking everyone I interacted with led a life of crime.
“That,” I answered. “I thought you meant that.”
I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like he was amused by my answer.
He pulled me toward my car. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”
I dug in my heels to stop him from walking. He turned back and looked at me. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”
I tried to reach for my keys in his hand. He held it out of my reach. “Nice try, angel. But you look like you’ll collapse at any moment. I need to make sure you make it home safe.”
“I don’t even know you. You could be just as bad as Lenny.”
“Really? You’re comparing me to that piece of shit? I’m wounded, baby.”
“And I’m sure you’ll recover. Now, please, give me back my keys.”
“What? Not even a thank you for saving your life?”
“Thank. You,” I gritted out. “Now, please. My keys.”
He chuckled, and it sounded strange. “Not the way it works. Either I drive you home, or we stay here and wait for the cops to show up. Then they can escort you home.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, getting angry.
He nodded. “Deadly.”
I didn’t want to wait for the police. I didn’t trust the police. But I probably trusted Silas even less.
“Come now, you really think I would go through all this trouble of taking Lenny out, only to kidnap you?” he asked, his voice playful. But under the playfulness, there was an underlying note of darkness I didn’t want to think too much about.
I shivered.
“Well, I wasn’t thinking that. But I am now.”
Again, he laughed. Again, it sounded off.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, directing me away from the mess that was Lenny and toward my car.
I tried to look back, but Silas firmed his hold around me. I looked up at him, but his gaze was focused straight ahead. I knew he was aware of my eyes on him.
He led me to the passenger side of my car.
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “How did you know this was my car?”
“Considering how empty the lot is?”
One of my eyebrows rose at the bullshit response. “Nice try.”
He grinned. “I saw you get in your car at the diner, remember?”
Right. He had. That day felt like ages ago. I’d almost forgotten about it.
He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for me. In a daze, I got in without protest.
I watched as he walked to the front of the car and pulled out his phone, probably to call the cops and report Lenny. It wasn’t my problem what happened to that piece of shit now. I just didn’t have the energy to care anymore.
It wasn’t until he was comfortably seated in the driver’s seat that I remembered I wasn’t supposed to give in so easily. Now that I was in the car with him, he could drive off somewhere and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.
He started the car, and I jumped when he locked it.
Silas looked at me from the corner of his eye for a brief second before he shifted gears and pulled out of the lot. My heart felt weighed down with cement. I tried to focus on the road.
“You’ll have to tell me where I’m going, sweetheart. Or I’m taking you home with me.”
“You’re driving me home?”
He laughed. “Yeah.”
“Then how are you going to get home?”
“I’ll call for a ride. Of course, if you’re worried about me, you can always let me sleep over tonight.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Didn’t think so,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement.
I quickly gave him the address to the motel before looking back out the window. I planned on spending the rest of the short ride home in silence. Only, the longer the silence held, the more I thought about what happened with Lenny. The adrenaline was already going down. Who knew how I would be once that happened?
“What were you doing back at the restaurant?” I asked. Perhaps a conversation with him would get my mind off everything.
“I came to see you again, but I forgot how early the restaurant closed. It’s a damn good thing I came when I did, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Early?” I asked. “This is early for you?”
“Where I’m from, the restaurants stay open a little longer. Though New Orleans isn’t exactly known for being peaceful and quiet, now, is it?”
“Where are you from?”
“Chicago.”
I could feel all the blood draining from my face. “Chicago?”
“Yup,” he answered casually, but I swore there was something he wasn’t telling me.
This had to be a coincidence. A lot of people were from Chicago. Just because I’d barely escaped Chicago doesn’t mean everyone from there was out to get me.
“What about you?” he asked.
“Here,” I lied.
He laughed right in my face. “You’re from here, and you’re staying at a motel?”
I looked away, not really having an answer for him. It shouldn’t matter that he caught me in a lie. He didn’t matter, not in the grand scheme of things. I was sure once I moved on from this place, I would never see him or his brothers again.
“What are you running from, little angel?” he asked, his voice quiet.
“What makes you think I’m running away from something?”
“You got that look about you.”
I frowned at him. “Look? What look?”