9. Hold Yourself Together
Lifting my hand, I tapped my knuckles against the closed bedroom door.
“Come in.”
I opened the door to see Mila sitting at the end of my bed with the TV on. The sight of that would’ve hit me in the dick had it not been for the expression on her face when she aimed her gaze my way.
“Med time?” she asked when I didn’t speak.
“Dinner first,” I answered. “You need an ice pack in the meantime?”
Earlier, when I’d found her to reapply the ointment, I’d pressed for a real answer on how she felt instead of her dismissive fine. She’d admitted what her teary eyes had already said.
Her raw, burning skin was the most painful part.
“No, I’m just tired.” A smile tipped her lips. “I don’t know how since I slept so late.”
’Cause you’ve been through hell.
I didn’t say it out loud. She didn’t need the reminder.
She stood and clicked off the TV before approaching.
When she was within reach, I didn’t step out of the way. I caught her chin in my hold and tilted her face up. “You sure you’re okay?”
There was a pause. A brief one. Just a millisecond’s hesitation. And then it was gone, along with whatever had been weighing on her. Her expression was blank, like her face wasn’t covered in scrapes and bruises.
“Like I said, just wiped.” She smiled, and nothing about it was forced. But that didn’t mean it was as genuine as it appeared. “And hungry.”
“Then let’s get you fed.”
Mila followed me as I went down the rear staircase to the kitchen. She sniffed the air as the scent of garlic grew stronger. “What smells so good?”
“Pasta. Dining room, living room, or out on the porch?”
After a moment, she asked, “Where do you usually eat?”
“Over the sink if I’m inhaling something before bed or on the couch while I watch TV.”
“Living room, then.”
I’d assumed she’d pick solitude and that convincing her to let me eat with her would require a boardroom-style negotiation. I sure as shit hadn’t expected her to choose being with me.
Not giving her time to change her mind, I handed her the plate of pasta and salad I’d already dished out before grabbing my own. She trailed me again, and I set my shit down on the coffee table before handing her the remote. “Got cable and every streaming service you can think of. Put on whatever you want.”
“What do you watch?”
“The news.” At her grimace, I chuckled and repeated, “Put on whatever you want. I’m not picky.”
“Clearly,” she muttered as I backtracked into the kitchen for a beer for me and a water for her. When I returned, she blinked up at me. “Can I have a beer?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“For one, you’re on pain meds that shouldn’t be mixed with alcohol.” There were other spots to sit, but I took one on the same couch. I did give her space by sitting at the opposite end as her, but that was as far as I was going. “For another, you’re only twenty.”
And the reminder of that makes me feel like a dirty old man because it doesn’t stop me from wanting to pull you onto my lap to feed you off my plate.
Mila’s eyes widened. “How do you know how old I am?”
Since I couldn’t admit to having her cyberstalked, I said, “Lucky guess that you just confirmed.” I kept my tone conversational so it didn’t come across as an accusation. “I thought you said you didn’t drink.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I don’t. I’ve never even tried beer.”
“Then a dark stout isn’t the place to start.” I lifted the bottle toward her nose. I couldn’t stop the grin when she scowled and shuddered from the small whiff.
“I was messing with you. Are there more root beers?”
I raised my chin, and she stood before I could. “In the fridge, brat.”
Her steps faltered, and she froze in front of me. Tension infused her body as her wide blue eyes shot to my face.
“Mila?”
Her name seemed to shake her out of it, and her face returned to blank.
Before I could push about wherever she’d just mentally disappeared to, she rushed into the kitchen to physically disappear.
I’ll stick to calling her little girl and not brat when I want to get a rise outta her.
She came back a moment later with a root beer for herself and another beer for me. Despite the fact I’d barely taken a drink of the one I held, I accepted the bottle.
Mila flipped through the TV options, her attention on the screen and not the pasta getting cold on the coffee table in front of her.
“Told you already, I don’t care what we watch. But if you take much longer, I’m going to put on the news so you’ll focus on your dinner.”
With a soft eek, she bounced the channels back and forth between two shows before settling on a rerun of some police precinct comedy.
“We can watch the other one if you want.”
Giving me a smile, she shook her head. “We’ll have to watch that one from the beginning to understand.” She jerked her head to look straight ahead. “I mean, you’d have to. I’ve already watched both of these a few times.” Her nose scrunched just slightly as she added under her breath, “Or more because I’m a massive loser.”
If she wasn’t injured.
If she was mine.
I’d take her over my knees.
Because it wasn’t playful self-deprecation in her words. They were packed with quiet, cutting venom.
Since I had no right to punish her, I stabbed my fork toward her abandoned plate in a silent prompt. Once she picked it up, I leaned back and reminded, “You’re talking to the guy who watches the news.”
That got me another small smile. “Good point.”
What the fuck am I doing?
Go to bed, you pathetic fuck.
Walk away now.
I didn’t.
After picking at her food, Mila hadn’t hauled ass up to her room. She’d tucked her feet under her on the couch and settled in to watch the show I’d barely paid attention to.
That hadn’t stopped me from pretending it was my new favorite sitcom every time she’d looked over to explain a previous storyline or share in a joke.
Since that’d only happened a handful of times, the night was spent with her zoned out on the show and me zoned out on her until her eyes had begun growing heavy.
After she’d gone to bed, I’d taken a spot in the loft to catch up on all the work I should’ve been doing instead of pretending to watch a show. I was done, and I should’ve been going to sleep.
I should’ve been checking the news. The gossip. The rumors that floated through Vegas thicker than the cigarette smoke.
Instead, I stood outside of Mila’s door. It wasn’t time for her medication. She hadn’t made any noise that was alarming. I had no reason to be there.
No reason to go inside.
I did it anyway.
Mila
I’m alone.
I’m always alone.
The house is too scary. Too dangerous. Too dark.
Too empty.
No friends. No family. Nowhere else for me to go. I’m always alone.
Until I’m not.
Hands are touching me. Grabbing me. I try to fight them off, but my arms are weighed down. Slow. Ineffective. I can smell the brick. The monster. He laughs in my ear, and it grows louder.
Higher.
I know that laughter.
Veronica.
Why is my mother here?
“Stupid Mila. Think you’re better than me?”
The hands.
“Mila, Mila, Mila.”
Too many.
“Mila. Mila. Mila.”
All over.
I need help. Just one time. For once, I need someone to help me.
I need…
“Mila!”
“Ash!” I sat up and thrashed, fighting against phantom hands and haunting touches.
“Mila, it’s just me.”
My movements stopped, though my heart continued to slam against my ribs like it was trying to burst from my chest.
Ash sat on the edge of the bed, stroking my unruly hair from my face. Sweat slicked my skin, and he had to feel it, but he didn’t say anything. With the light streaming in from the bathroom, I could clearly see the concern on his face. His voice held the same tender worry when he asked, “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head.
It was just a dream.
A nightmare.
I was okay.
Fine.
Completely normal.
I burst into tears.
“Are you in pain? What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”
At the panic in Ash’s voice, I started crying harder as I forced out, “It doesn’t hurt.”
That was a lie.
Such a huge lie.
“Shit,” Ash bit out softly, climbing fully onto the bed before pulling me to him. He didn’t speak as he palmed the back of my head and held my face to his chest.
Or maybe he did, and I just couldn’t hear him over my loud sobs.
Once they turned to hiccuping whimpers, he ordered, “Tell me what happened, sunshine.”
“My mother happened.”
He paused for a second. “Did she call you?”
I scoffed. “Yeah, right. My phone is broken, but even if it wasn’t...” More tears poured down my face. “I think she set me up to get jumped.”
“You think your own fucking mother did this shit?” His whole body went rigid, but I was too exhausted and emotionally raw to keep my walls up.
They could be down around Ash.
Just for a few minutes.
“It wouldn’t be the worst she’s done,” I said. “She’s the one who chose that location. I was only there so she could pay me back when?—”
“For what?”
“Huh?”
“Why was she paying you back?”
“She stole my paycheck and my savings. I usually let it go, but I need that money since she also got me fired. I threatened her, and this”—I gestured down to myself—“was her version of payback.”
“I don’t even know which what the fuck to start with, baby.”
I’d have laughed had it not been for the fresh wave of tears that started at his soothing tone. It made the echoes of my mother’s laughter grow louder in my head.
Taunting me.
A little kindness and attention are enough to make you unravel?
Pathetic.
Ash didn’t seem to share the same sentiment. He gathered me closer so my front was pressed to his side as tight as it could be at our awkward angle. One hand still palmed the back of my head while his other stroked down my spine. His heartbeat thumped in my ear, chasing away my inner demons and leaving me drained.
I must’ve dozed off because the next thing I remembered was him shifting me off his chest.
Before I could stop myself, I clutched him tighter.
I blamed being partially asleep, but the truth was, I would’ve done the same thing if I was wide awake. And not because I didn’t want to be alone. That was technically true, but I didn’t want just anyone there.
I wanted Ash. Big behemoth Ash who took care of me. Made me feel safe. Who I trusted.
As much as I was capable of trusting anyone, at least.
“Just covering you up, sunshine,” Ash murmured, pulling the blanket over us. “You’re shivering.”
“Sorry.” I tried to pull away. “I’m fine now. You can?—”
“Hush.” The one word was a firm order, softened by his mouth pressing against my forehead. His lips grazed the skin there when he continued. “I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you.
That time when I fell asleep, it was nothing but peaceful rest.
Because Ash had me.