*Disclaimer: This chapter has some scenes of violence and assault, if you aren't comfortable reading, please stop at the asterisks.
Just who the hell did that arrogant, big-headed, cheating scumbag think he was to talk to me like that? Every word he spat at me was imprinted into my mind, and every time I thought about it, my blood boiled. I was so mad that despite walking outside in the cold at almost ten-pm at night, my skin felt like it was on fire.
I stopped at the diner which was just beside the motel but made a U-turn when I realized that it was still too close to Mitchell, so I left and walked for around ten minutes to the pub across the road.
The night was dark with not a star visible because of the heavy cloud cover and the air was cold and smelt like wet earth and rain. The parking lot was pretty much empty with only a few vehicles scattered around. There was a neon light flashing just above the entrance when I entered.
Inside the pub was a lot warmer than outside and like the motel, it was also dominated by a wooden interior. There was a bar setup just as you entered and further in were tables scattered with barstools all entertained by the jukebox playing some country song. The smell of alcohol and tobacco welcomed me as I made my way to the bar, glad that it wasn't very busy.
I took a seat at the stool and was greeted by the bartender in maybe his late thirties, he looked polite and had a bald patch.
"Evening Miss, what can I get ya?" He politely asked.
I looked at the many drinks hanging upside down on the wall in front of me, next to a beer tap. The thought of alcohol didn't digest well, I had too much the previous night. So, I opted for something simple.
"Can I get a plain lemonade?" I asked.
"Sure thing." He said and walked off.
I rested my elbows on the bar counter and rubbed my palms over my face, sighing. The day started alright, but it sure ended awfully.
The bartender brought my drink in no time and I mindlessly played with the little umbrella which hung on the side of the glass. Was I really so awful to be around? It wasn't the first time someone said that to me, and it surely wasn't the first time Mitchell said it.
I knew I was a little loud, bold, and eccentric and I understood that not everyone liked that. I wondered if I should simmer down and be more... normal. Maybe then people wouldn't be so harsh with their words towards me, it was so easy for the closest people even to say 'stop being Mila' and I normally brushed it off but they hadn't a clue how deep that one little line could cut. I mean how does one stop going about being themselves? I think it's pretty damn cruel to ask someone to stop being who they were.
Maybe I needed to be a little quieter – more like Faith and Olivia. But I knew that if I suddenly stopped being cheery and loud, I'd sink into a very dark hole and I wasn't sure if I would ever come out of that space. The way I acted and spoke was my coping mechanism to deal with the crap that life threw my way, it blocked out the demons which lived in my mind and heart. Laughter was my savior from allowing sadness to consume me.
But it seemed in an attempt to save me, I was taking down the people around me. I couldn't be that selfish, could I? Maybe the best option was to just isolate me for a while, be by myself and give everyone around me a break from Mila.
I sighed and massaged my temples; my thoughts were starting to consume me again and I hated when that happened. I needed to stop overthinking and remember that Mitchell was no one but the asshole friend of Faith's boyfriend, what he thought of me didn't matter. What happened wasn't my fault, only someone hiding something would act out the way he did, this time I was innocent.
I looked at my drink, somehow finding the condensation dripping down the glass entertaining before I lifted the glass and toasted to myself, "Happy birthday Mila."
I took a sip of the sweet-sour drink and left the glass on the bar again. I was missing home and the people I was close to over there. More so I missed my mom, she would always make me feel better when I felt so down. She always told me, sadness is a part of life but if there was one day I shouldn't be sad, it was my birthday because that was the day she was gifted with her biggest blessing, I owed it to her to be happy. She would always smile and tease me saying that after twelve hours of contractions and labor, I owed her that. I felt a lump building in my throat and my heart start to get heavy – if only she knew that no matter how much I tried; I haven't been truly happy on my birthday in years.
I composed myself and decided to stop feeling sorry for myself, I needed to get a hold on my emotions and not let my guard down, I was the most dangerous person to let it down to.
If there was one person who'd cheer me up, she was just a call away so reaching for my phone in my romper pocket, I pulled it out and dialed her up.
"Carmen." I grinned as soon as she picked up.
"Hello Mila, its Julie not Carmen." Julie, the woman Carmen lived with answered instead.
"Hey Julie, is Carmen around? I'd like to talk to her." I said.
"I'm sorry Mila. I tried to get her to call you but today was one of those days she wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone or even leave her room." Julie very apologetically said.
I knew those days, Carmen had days where she would be angry or sad and wouldn't want anyone in her space. It was in her best interest to just leave her be until she came out of that shell.
"No, I understand Julie. I was just missing her so thought I'd call to check in." I said, trying my best to hide my disappointment.
"I'm so sorry Mila, I know today is your birthday too. I tried my best but..." Julie trailed off and I knew what he meant.
"No, please don't apologize Julie." I took in a breath before I added, "Just tell I miss her so much and I'll be seeing her very soon."
"I will do that." Julie said.
"Thanks." I said and was about to hang up, but Julie stopped me.
"Mila," she called, "Happy birthday honey, I hope your day was no short of lovely."
"Thanks." I muttered before I hung up.
There was something about special occasions, especially birthdays which always made me reflect on my life and maybe that is why I hated them. Sitting by myself in a rusty pub just made me realize how alone I was in this world. Faith, who was the closest person to me in the last seven years was living her life with the man of her dreams. Carmen who I've known my whole life was going through her life obstacles. My dad, well he didn't even make the cut to be part of the list of people in my life, it was almost ten-pm and he still hadn't even texted me let alone call to wish me for my birthday.
I had my grandparents, but they were old and enjoying their retirement, I never burdened them with my woes – in front of them I always wore a smile and made them believe I was happy. I had Wang but as fun, as he was to talk to and hang out with, I never got as close to him as I was with Faith.
As for my mom, well that was a whole other issue. I always had her, but it was a lot more complicated than just that. It was official and I realized it at that moment that I had no one to call my own, no one who cared enough to ask me how I really was, or for me to confide in and feel safe with. It was a scary and dark place to be alone but at least it made me strong despite how sore it made my heart at times.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself Mila." I scolded myself under my breath.
I needed to control my emotions, I needed to take back control of my mind and not let the bitterness consume me. I would not allow stupid Bitchell Clarke to get the better of me, I was not that weak to let a silly boy's words get into my head. No, I was Mila Bandera and I was unapologetically me – now I just needed to chant it in my head like a mantra.
I took a good few sips on my drink, hoping the sourness from the lemon would dissolve the bitterness in my mind. And to an extent it did, I thought happy thoughts – about the times I was little and always had a gathering with my aunt, uncle, grandparents, and mom on my birthday. The last that happened was when I turned nine, it was a long time ago, but those happy memories always stayed with me.
My reminiscing was put to a halt when the barstool next to mine was dragged out and on it sat a man who smelt strong of cigarettes mixed with some awful smelling cologne.
"I'll have a beer and keep them coming whenever you see my glass emptying." He told the bartender.
He was sitting a little too close for comfort and when I glanced at him, I got the impression that he was already a little drunk. He looked to be in his late twenties, he seemed tall and had broad shoulders. His hair was a short buzz cut and he had a beard that looked terribly unkempt. He wore a black t-shirt with blue jeans.
He grinned at me crookedly and half waved, "Hey there."
I ignored him and stood up, to sit a few barstools away from him. I was probably overthinking it, but I didn't get a good vibe from him.
"Ah!" He said taking a large sip of his beer, "Just what the doctor ordered."
I turned my back to him and decided to ignore him, I didn't want to send off any wrong signals. I silently sat and sipped my lemonade, wondering how and when I would go back to the room. If the place wasn't fully booked, I would've gotten my own room because I did not want to face Mitchell for the remainder of the night.
My drink was almost done when the bartender slid a pink cocktail in front of me. I frowned and looked at him questioningly.
"I didn't order this." I told him.
He gestured to the man sitting a few stools from me with his eyes, "He did."
I looked at the man who was grinning at me, I looked back to the bartender and slid the drink back to him.
"I don't drink alcohol." I lied.
'I despise lies.' Mitchell's voice rang at the back of my mind. Well, this was one of the times a lie came in handy, there was no way I was going to accept a drink from a stranger who was staring at me with a creepy grin.
I could feel the man's gaze burning at the back of my head and I was now feeling uncomfortable, I didn't want to leave but I figured sitting in silence in a room with Mitchell beat being alone at a bar with a creepy dude who looked at me like a starving predator.
I took one last sip of my drink, left a fifty-dollar bill on the table, and stood up to leave. I did not want to be there a minute longer, my gut told me to leave.
When I stepped out of the pub, the chilly wind blew my hair backward and the cold finally hit me, goosebumps erupted on my arms and I wished I grabbed a jacket before I stormed out of the motel.
As I walked out of the door, my pocket began to vibrate when my phone rang. I stopped walking to see how was calling. When my eyes met the name that was on the screen, my heart froze, and I wasn't sure if I was happy or upset.
Regardless, I picked up.
"Hello." I greeted.
"Mila." He greeted back.
I took in a deep breath; I was honestly surprised by his call.
"Dad." I said, the conversation barely began but it was already so awkward.
"How are you Mila?" He asked.
I rolled my eyes, I hated small talk and that's how all our calls went.
"Great thank you." I replied.
"I called to say happy birthday, I hope you had a wonderful day." He said.
I took in a breath as I recalled the eventful day I had, I wished I could tell him that, but we didn't share that kind of relationship at all.
"Thanks, it was a good day." I replied.
"I'm glad to hear that." He said and I was hoping the call would end soon because for one I was freezing standing in my little romper outside and secondly, his attempt at making conversation was embarrassing.
"I apologize for such a late call; I was held up in meetings all day. I meant to call earlier but I just never caught a break. I trust your brothers and step-mom called?" He said and I think that was the longest sentence he ever spoke to me.
"Yeah, they did, like they do every year." I told him, "And no worries, I'm glad you remembered this year."
"Mila," He began before he took a pause, "I would never forget my firstborns' birthday. I cannot apologize enough for not calling on time last year, it was not excusable."
'But you did forget and you're right, an apology won't undo it.' I mentally said.
"Don't worry about it Dad, it happens." I told him even though my heart felt like it had been punched.
"So, tell me, what gift can I get you?" He asked.
'Maybe you could say you love me? Heck, I'll even take you calling me sweetheart or any silly pet name most dads called their daughters.' I mentally answered, if only I could say that out loud.
"Nothing, I've got everything I need. Thank you though." I replied.
"Yes, but I am asking what you want?" He asked.
"Um, if I think of anything, I'll let you know. But I'm good." I said, trying to keep my emotions in check.
"Alright, I'm holding you to that. I'm sure you're with your mom and grandparents so I don't want to hold you up." He said.
'If only I was. My day was filled with reminders of what a nuisance I am to everyone in my life and possibly what a mistake I truly was.'
"Yeah." Was all I managed to say.
"Um, Eric suggested that maybe if you're free this Sunday, we could go out for a family dinner to a nice restaurant of your choice to celebrate your birthday." He suggested and I could sense the hesitance at first.
'Bless Eric and his kind heart, but I wish you would've come up with the idea instead Dad.' I wished I could've told him the thought in my mind, but I never could, no matter how close I came to doing so.
"Yeah, I might not be able to do this Sunday but maybe next weekend or the one after." I told him.
"Great, I look forward to that. Just let me know so I can clear my calendar." He said.
"Of course." I forced a smile even though he couldn't see me.
He took in a breath and I knew there was nothing left to say, he was about to end the call and at that moment I didn't want him to. Speaking to him made me feel just a little less lonely, it reminded me that I did have a dad, and maybe in his own way he cared for me a little.
"Well, I'll see you soon. Enjoy the rest of your day Mila." He said.
"Thanks Dad." I replied.
"I'll talk to you soon. Take care." And I knew that was it, he always similarly ended the call.
"Dad." I blurted before I could even think.
My chest felt a little tight and I was overwhelmed by emotions, maybe it was the fact that I was all alone once again for my birthday or maybe it was because the previous night I had a glimpse of what it felt like to wholeheartedly smile and laugh again. I danced on my birthday in what felt like forever, be it Mitchell, but he made me feel like a special birthday girl again after ages. He showed me all of that and then in a moment it was snatched away, and reality dawned down on me – a reality that I wished I could dream away from at times.
"Yes, Mila?" My father spoke.
I took in a deep breath, I wanted to talk to him the way I heard Faith talk to her dad and the way Wang would speak of his father. I wanted to tell him about my day and how much I missed home. I wanted to tell him that I was feeling really down, and I didn't exactly know why but the one call from him lifted my spirits just a little.
But I was a coward and egotistical, moreover I wasn't accustomed to sharing my feelings.
"Thank you for calling Dad," Was all I could manage to say. Swallowing down the very prominent lump in my throat I added, "It means so much to me."
"It's my duty to at least call you and wish you for your birthday Mila, no need to thank me." He said and maybe he was smiling, but I wasn't sure. I don't think I ever saw my father smile.
"Okay," I breathed, "Goodnight Dad."
"Night Mila." He said and the phone went dead.
I put my phone away in my pocket before I ran a hand through my hair and took in a deep breath.
"Tranquila Mila, tranquila." I whispered under my breath to calm myself down.
I composed myself and after taking in another deep breath, I decided it was time to walk back to the hotel room and face the gilipollas I was, unfortunately, sharing a room with.
I started to walk but just before I could get far a deep, male voice stopped me.
"Where are you off to?"
I turned around to see who was speaking and when the face came into view, the mental alarms were going off in my head. Standing casually with his one leg on the wall was the same man from the bar. I had no idea how long he was standing there and if he was listening in on my conversation.
"Um, to my boyfriend back at the motel." I lied again. I didn't care about any moral compass at the moment, all I knew was that I needed to get away.
"Boyfriend doesn't mean husband." He mused taking his leg off the wall and took a step closer to me.
*******
"I'm going to go." I mumbled and as quick as I could I turned on my heel, but little did I know that the guy was quicker than me because I felt his rough hand grasp my arm.
My heartbeat picked up drastically, in fact, it was erratic. I did not have a good feeling about this, but I needed to keep calm and not freak out, the main focus was to get away from him.
He walked around to face me; he was just about a few inches taller than me so we were almost eye to eye.
"I always liked me a girl with attitude, ya know, the ones who love to play hard to get." He drawled.
"Look, I don't know what impression you got but I have a boyfriend and he'll come looking for me if I don't get back soon." I told him, doing my best to keep my voice calm.
He clicked his tongue and shook his head, "I don't believe it, because, "He lowered his face and whispered in my ear, "No sane man would leave a pretty little thing like you all alone at this time of the night."
Every fiber in my body was starting to panic, my heart was racing at lightning speed and my skin was starting to prickle. My stomach churned and I felt sick, my temples were beating so much that I could practically hear it in my ears. As much as I wanted to, but I couldn't control my erratic breathing.
I circled my hand around his which held my arm and tried to get out of his grasp, but he only tightened his hold. I looked at him with pleading eyes, "Please let me go."
"Shh," He hushed me, "Don't be scared Sugar, I wouldn't hurt you. You're too beautiful to break."
"Then let me go, please." I was so helpless that I was begging, doing my best to hold back the tears prickling at the corner of my eyes.
"I will, I promise." He whispered, his green eyes bored into my scared ones, "But first I want to have a little fun. I promise if you cooperate, you'll enjoy it as much I will."
I was now panting; my mind and heart were freaking out. I tugged at his fingers so he would let me go but he didn't. So, I used my long nails to an advantage and dug into his skin as hard as I could.
His hold immediately loosened when he hissed in pain and I took that to my advantage and set myself free from him. I made a run for it but he was fast, very fast because in no time he grabbed me by the waist and dragged me to the nearby wall.
"Let me go you son of a bitch!" I screamed as loudly as I could as him, using my hands to hit his shoulders but he was strong, he felt nothing.
He pushed me against the wall harshly, pinned me down with his hips, and looked at me angrily.
"Bitch can bite." He murmured and when he spoke, I got the stench of beer, that's how close he was.
"I wanted to play nice, but it seems you like it rough." He sneered.
I fisted his chest with all my strength and exclaimed between gritted teeth, "Let me go!"
That didn't seem to affect him, all it did was trigger him more because he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. I tried to move my legs to knee him where it hurt the most, but he had me firmly pressed against the wall that I couldn't move.
"Please, "I begged, "Let me go!"
He inched his face close to mine, not wanting to look at him I turned my face to the side. That seemed to displease him because, with his free hand, he harshly grabbed my cheeks and forced me to look at him.
The look on his face told me he was enjoying this; my fear and discomfort were satisfying for him. His eyes looked excited and I felt nothing but disgust, fear, and anxiety.
"Fuck, I have never seen a girl like you before. Long, tan legs, voluptuous ass, perky tits and," He ran the pad of his thumb over my lips, "These plump, luscious lips can drive any man insane."
I felt the bile rise in my throat, I wanted to puke but I couldn't. I had never been more afraid in my life as I currently felt, my heart was hammering in my chest, my body felt like it was going to collapse, and my breath was stuck in my throat. I was drowning all over again, I was gasping for air but no matter how much I tried to reach the surface I couldn't.
I looked at him with nothing by hatred and when he let go of my face I spat on his face. "Fuck off!"
He turned his face to the side and wiped away the saliva from his face before he looked at me again in amusement.
"I like it rough too baby." He snarled and before I could comprehend, he ripped the left side of my romper down to my waist. The sound of the tearing fabric sounded to me like nails on a chalkboard. I shut my eyes and refused to let any tears fall, I needed to be strong and not let him know how frightened I was.
I felt his cold, rough hands grasp my shoulder and he wildly ran his disgusting hands down my exposed body then up to my breast. I internally screamed when he cupped my bra and squeezed.
"Such beauty." He breathed. His breath was at my neck and at that moment, I just wanted to drop dead. I was helpless and no matter how loudly I screamed or fought, there was no way I was getting out of this.
My eyes were forced to open when I heard the sound of his belt buckle, I looked in horror as he undid his belt and began undoing his jeans button.
"No," I cried in despair, "No! No please don't do this! No!"
His breathing was ragged telling me how excited he was, I wanted to puke but it never came. My chest was hurting and breathing was an impossible task.
"I won't hurt you; I promise." He whispered as he began unzipping his pants.
"No!" I screamed as loudly as I could when I felt him grip the hem of the bottom of my romper.
I squeezed my eyes tightly, still fighting back the tears as I expected the worst to come. I gulped and prayed to whoever was up there to save me.
All of a sudden my hands which were pinned against the wall dropped and all contact from the bastard was gone.
My eyes fluttered open and I let out the biggest breath of relief, my lungs opened up and I wasn't drowning anymore. Standing there a few feet from me was Mitchell, he was grasping the man's arm so tightly that his knuckles were white. Looking at his face I could only describe it with one word: rage.
"Mitchell." I breathed, grateful to the heavens above for answering my prayers.
Mitchell was breathing heavily; his chest was heaving up and down when he harshly threw the man aside. He took quick steps towards me, his angry gaze softened slightly when he looked at my poor state. He reached for me with his hands, but I instinctively flinched backward, he held back and instead quickly discarded his denim jacket and wrapped it around me.
"Are-" He began but cut himself off abruptly when we both heard footsteps. I glanced over at Mitchell's shoulder and watched the man closing the zipper of his jeans while simultaneously trying to scurry away.
Mitchell's eyes turned dark and he looked more than furious. He left me there and rushed towards the man. He grabbed his arm and before he could gather himself and stand straight, Mitchell punched his jaw. I heard a crackling sound when he went for his nose next and then kneed him in the gut.
I watched in horror as the man gasped and groaned in pain when he fell to the floor. Without giving him a chance to sit up, Mitchell bent over and began punching him continuously on his jaw – from left to right.
"How dare you fucking touch her?!" Mitchell bellowed as he threw punch after punch.
The man was bleeding, I could see the dark, thick liquid pouring out of his nose and the side of his face, but Mitchell didn't care, he kept going.
"Motherfucking bastard!" Mitchell cursed him while he kicked him in the gut over and over.
Panic was setting in again and I was struggling to breathe, the man was barely conscious, but Mitchell kept beating him. I knew if I didn't stop him, Mitchell would kill him, and I did not want that.
"Mitchell!" I yelled at him, but he didn't hear me.
I rushed to him and yelled again, "Mitch stop! You're going to kill him!"
"He fucking deserves worse for touching you!" Mitchell screamed as he grabbed the guy's neck and smashed his head onto the ground.
I was horror-struck, I didn't know what to do. In my entire life, I had never witnessed such violence.
"Mitchell, please!" I cried grabbing his arm to stop him.
Mitchell was about to shrug me off harshly, but he stopped when common sense kicked in. He was panting when he looked at me over his shoulder, his gaze softening a little.
"Please," I pleaded softly, "I just want to go."
Mitchell gulped before he asked in a shaky voice, he was trying to keep his anger under control, "Did... did he..." He trailed off unable to complete his sentence.
I knew what he meant, he wanted to know if that vile, monster got what he wanted from me. I shook my head, "No, he didn't."
Mitchell let out a huge sigh of relief and he looked to calm down slightly. but that was short-lived when he turned his gaze back to the barely conscious man on the ground covered in blood and cuts.
Mitchell grabbed him by the collar and lifted him to meet his gaze. The guy's eyes were so swollen and bloody that he could barely keep them open.
"If you touch her or any other woman ever again, I will find you and I will fucking kill you!" He spat on his face, literally and figuratively before he threw him back on the ground.
Mitchell bent and searched his pockets until he found the guy's wallet. He opened it and pulled out what looked like a driver's license. He put it in his pocket and glared venomously at the semi-conscious man as he threw his wallet on him.
He pointed a finger at him and said, "This is not over. You will be punished far worse for touching her."
"The names Mitchell Clarke – in case you want to run to the cops and lay a charge of assault against me. I will take great pleasure in seeing you in court." He added harshly before he turned around to face me.
He was breathing unevenly, and his hands were covered in blood before he lifted the shoulder of the jacket that I hadn't realized was falling over, exposing my body. He gulped and searched my eyes for a moment, making sure I was alright, and then without a word he wrapped an arm around me and walked me to his parked car.
The five-minute ride back to the motel was silent, not a sound was heard other than Mitchell's uneven breathing and my gasps of air. I kept myself together, I refused to cry or break down in front of him even though I felt a pressure in my chest and throat, waiting to just combust.
Once we reached the motel, I ran out of the car and waited for Mitchell to open the door. He did so without a word and once the door was open, I ran inside and made my way to my trolley bag while Mitchell walked towards the bathroom to probably clean his bloody hands.
I lifted it and placed it on the bed before I unzipped it and hurriedly started looking for a sweater or a hoodie or anything baggy and warm to cover myself with.
"Mila." Mitchell's soft voice was heard from behind me, but I ignored and rather hysterically searched my bag.
"Shit!" I cursed when all I could find were summer clothes. I left all my baggy, warmer winter clothes in Boston because I always spent winter over there.
I felt Mitchell's hand on my shoulder and I immediately flinched away with a gasp. I turned to look at him gazing at me with caution.
"What's wrong?" He asked softly.
I swallowed down the huge lump in my throat and ran a hand through my hair while blinking rapidly to stop the threatening tears.
"Um," I swallowed, "Do- do you have a hoodie or a sweatshirt I can borrow? I only packed my summer tops and-"
"Hey, hey," He hushed me and reached for me but when he looked at my face he stopped and held back, "Relax, I have a hoodie for you to wear."
He walked to his bag and after a moment of searching, he was back with a large grey hoodie in his hands.
"Thanks." I mumbled while I discarded his jacket and exchanged it with him for the hoodie.
I grabbed my toiletry bag with a pair of joggers and headed to the bathroom.
Once I was in the bathroom and locked the door behind me, I let out a huge breath and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like me, but my eyes looked a tad bit ghostly and my lips were chapped.
I glanced at my body and looked at my torn romper, he ripped it so far down that the entire left cup of my bra right down to my belly was exposed. I took in a breath and decided I was unable to look at my poor state anymore I took it off and opened the hot water of the shower.
The water was steaming hot when I stripped down to nothing and got in, closing the curtain beside me. I grabbed my loofa and smeared it with body wash before I started scrubbing down my skin, focusing more on my left side where that vile, awful person touched me.
I scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin burned and turned pink. I needed his touch gone, from my skin and my mind.
I was panting again, and tears were rolling down my cheeks, but I didn't care, my skin burnt from the hot water and the scrubbing and it felt so much better than the memory of what just happened.
I grabbed my facial wash and washed my face, I rubbed over my cheeks and lips vigorously when I imagined his cold, rough hand grabbing my face and touching my lips.
I was hyperventilating and couldn't take it anymore so dropping everything down in the tub I, too collapsed and broke down right there. The tears rushed down my cheeks faster than the Niagara Falls, my chest was heavy, and my throat burned when I sobbed into my hands.
The haunting memories of what just happened flashed into my mind like a kaleidoscope, the words he said to me and the way he touched me made me feel as if my skin was poisonous to my soul.
I hid my face in my palms and silently screamed, hoping that would block out the horror and fear I still felt. But it didn't help, nothing took away what I felt. I sat there and cried my heart out, my eyes burned, and my skin was gone red from the hot water, but I didn't care.
I didn't know how long I sat there just crying and sobbing, trying to erase the feeling in my chest. It felt like hours when my tears dried up and the water was turning cold, I sat with my knees to my chest and hugged myself.
"Mila," I was startled when I heard Mitchell call from outside with a knock on the door, "Are you alright in there?"
I took in a deep breath and wiped away whatever tears were left on my face.
I cleared my throat and did my best to sound normal, "Yeah, I'll be out in a moment."
I composed myself and washed my face once more before I closed the water and wrapped a towel around me. I got out the bathtub and wiped off the steam from the mirror before looking at myself. My eyes were terrible bloodshot and puffy, my skin was flushed and felt hot to the touch.
I dried myself with a towel and dressed into fresh underwear, joggers, and Mitchell's grey hoodie which I just noticed had the word 'Supreme' written in white with a red background in the middle. I made a mental note to return it to him in the morning.
I glanced at the torn romper and used undergarments on the floor and just looking at that awful outfit took me back to that parking lot. So, I picked it up, scrunched it up, and tossed it in the trashcan – I never wanted to see that outfit again.
I took in a deep breath and exhaled before I exited the bathroom. I walked into the room to see Mitchell sitting on the chair at the coffee table, he wasn't doing anything but just staring at nothing in particular. There was a brown bag with what I presumed from the smell in the room was food.
When I came into view, he looked up at me, his face was unreadable, but I could see that he was hesitant to say anything.
I was about to make my way to the bed because I wanted to sleep but his voice stopped me.
"I went to get us something to eat from the diner while you were showering." he said.
The last thing on my mind was food, my stomach was still in knots. So, with my back to him, I said, "I'm not hungry."
I made my way towards the bed again and pulled open the covers but just before I could get in, I felt Mitchell's presence behind me, he gently grasped my shoulders and turned me around.
I obliged because I had no energy to fight but I kept my gaze on the ground.
"Hey." He said softly as he placed his hand under my chin, gently lifting my head so I could look at him.
I looked into his gaze and he looked so sincere and scared even, they were wide and searched mine. He swallowed and his jaw clenched, he relaxed and opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it and instead he pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around me.
I stood immobile with my hands at my sides, my chest tightened, and a lump grew in my throat again while my eyes welled up. I hated hugs or being close to anyone but at that moment, with his long arms wrapped tightly around me, his chin on top of my head and the feel of his steady breathing against me made me realize that I wanted nothing more than to be held and told that I was okay and safe.
I slowly lifted my arms and wrapped them as tightly as I could around him, I clenched his shirt in my fists and let the tears silently fall.
"I am so sorry Mila," Mitchell whispered, "So so sorry."
His hands wrapped even tighter around me and he pulled me closer, "I never should've said those awful things to you, I never should've gotten mad at you for no reason and I sure as hell never should've let you walk out on your own."
I shut my eyes and the tears were uncontrollably falling, I knew I was supposed to be mad at Mitchell, I should've pushed him away and swore him but he was the only thing I knew and could call home at that moment. The warmth from his arms was something I craved so badly, I felt broken and his embrace was the only thing stopping me from crumbling.
"I never left your side once this week because I knew you were my responsibility but today because of my fucking arrogance I let you go alone and you..." He trailed off and took in a breath.
He held me there for a long while, I silently cried and I wasn't sure if he knew but I didn't care at that moment, I was human, and I just went through a traumatic ordeal.
He finally let me go but held me at arm's length, I sniffed and looked away. I made a move to walk off, but he stopped me by grasping my shoulders a little tighter.
He gently cupped my cheek and forced me to look into his gaze. They were warm and filled with regret. My eyes were stinging and burning from all the tears.
He wiped away the tears with the pad of his thumb when he softly said, "You don't have to fight every battle alone Mila."
I swallowed and looked up at him, "I've done so my whole life, from the age of twelve I have taken care of myself."
"Just today, I..." I trailed off and felt the panic start to set in when my mind played back those horrid images, "I couldn't fight him off and I tried Mitch, I really did but he was so strong and he held me..." I choked on a sob and trailed off.
Mitchell wrapped his arms around me again and hushed me.
"You're not a superhero Mila and whatever happened was not your fault," I felt him tense when he added, "That fucking filthy piece of scum..."
"I wished I killed him!" He groaned.
I pulled away and he tucked a strand of my damp hair behind my ears while looking straight in my eyes when he said, "Forgive me? What happened tonight was my fault and I can never forgive myself, but will you please do so for me?"
His eyes were so sincere, and I knew he meant the apology, he was remorseful and guilty, but I couldn't hold him solely responsible. Yes, we fought, and I stormed off, but I should've run off as soon as that shady man entered the bar and looked at me, I shouldn't have stayed back to speak to my dad.
"It wasn't your fa-" I began but he cut me off.
"It was, nothing you say or do will change my mind because I took off with you when you were innocent. I shouldn't have fought with you like that when you did nothing wrong."
He took in a deep breath, "The girl who called is not my girlfriend, I'm not cheating on anyone. She's just someone from my past that I shouldn't have let get under my skin... she made me so mad all day and I took it out on you."
He paused and swallowed before he continued, "Nothing can make this better and no words can take away the pain I caused you today, but I am so very sorry Mila. I swear if I could undo it, I would."
"On your birthday I am the reason for putting tears in your eyes..." He trailed off with a strained voice. The guilt he felt was evidently overwhelming him.
He was the sincerest I have ever seen, he looked and sounded almost hurt when he spoke. I didn't know if I forgave him as yet, or if I was even still mad at him all I knew was that nothing happened to me because he came in time and for that I was grateful. I just wanted the night to be over and to start fresh in the morning.
I attempted a smile but failed miserably. "I think I'd like to eat something now."
He exhaled and gazed at me with an emotion I couldn't decipher before he half grinned.
"Alright, get in bed and I'll bring the food to you." He said.
We ate in silence and even though I couldn't digest any food, I still ate a few forkfuls of salad. Mitchell didn't have an appetite either because he also left his food half-eaten. Mitchell was walking on eggshells around me and I wanted it to stop, I didn't want him to smother me or treat me like some broken toy because I wasn't.
When we were done and Mitchell cleared the food off the bed, he got in the bed next to me. I was under the covers, but he sat on top. I was ready to sleep but he pulled out a Pop-Tart from behind him.
He glanced at his watch before he looked back at me, "There are still ten minutes left of your birthday and even though I ruined it, you still have to make a wish."
"The diner I got our food at didn't have cake or even pie, so I had to settle with this Pop-Tart I found in your snack-pack."
He opened the Pop-Tart and pulled out a lighter from his pocket, lighting it up beside the tart.
I shook my head; I wasn't in the mood for anything except sleep. "Mitch, no."
"Come on, just one little wish. It's a must for birthdays. You can wish I get sent to Mars to never return if you want."
I sighed and decided if I gave in, he'll let me be. "Fine."
He grinned and lit the lighter again, bringing the Pop-Tart closer to my face. "Make a wish."
I shut my eyes and wished for the same thing I have been wishing for the last decade now. I opened my eyes and blew the flame out.
Mitchell's grin widened a fraction when he brought the Pop-Tart to my lips and insisted I take a bite. I took a tiny bite and thereafter he took a bite.
"Happy birthday Mila," He said softly, "I am so sorry for being the reason for it being the worst birthday possible."
I didn't reply but just half grinned.
"Can I sleep now?" I asked.
He nodded, "Yeah, you may."
He placed the Pop-Tart in the wrapper again and dropped it on the nightstand on his side before he stood up.
"Where are you going?" I asked, my tone came off a little panicky.
"I'm going to get ready for bed, and then try to sleep over there on the chair." He answered.
It was so unlike me but after the ordeal I went through I wanted him nearby, I didn't know if it was because he saved me or if it was because he was the only person I knew.
"If you really don't have any girlfriend, could you... could you stay with me tonight?" I requested.
He looked down at me with a warm gaze. "I swear on my mother I do not have a girlfriend nor am I cheating on anyone."
I nodded, "So can you-"
He smiled. "Of course."
After a while I was under the covers, Mitchell got in and lay on his back on his side while I tossed and turned in the dark. I couldn't get comfy and every time I closed my eyes, I cringed with flashbacks of what happened. My breath was uneven, and my heart was racing at one hundred miles an hour.
"Mils." Mitchell called my name.
I turned to my side to see him turned on his side, facing me. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time to bed and I thought it was to make me feel comfortable. His eyes shone brightly in the dark as he gazed at me.
"It's that time of the day." He said.
I sighed, "I'm not in the mood."
"That's fine," He quickly said, "But I will tell you a little story of my childhood."
I remained quiet and waited for him to speak.
"When I was little, I was afraid of thunder and storms could get pretty loud where I lived. So, whenever there was a storm and I couldn't sleep, my mom would get into my bed and hold my hand until I fell asleep."
"And did it work?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
He smiled as his mind played back the memory, "Always."
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "The storm is over."
He didn't answer with words but instead extended his hand, offering me his palm.
"I promise I won't let go until you want me to." He whispered.
I swallowed when I looked back and forth between his hand and gaze.
"I can take care of myself, always have and always will." I said, trying my best to sound confident.
"I trust you can, but tonight I'm with you, so you don't have to shoulder anything alone." He replied.
I hesitated because I didn't want to get close to him or anyone. After all, with closeness came comfort, and with that came habitual, I didn't want to get used to having someone there for me. But tonight, I needed just that so taking a gamble I removed my hand from under the covers and placed it on his warm palm.
He closed his hand around mine and just gazed at me. I didn't close my eyes either but looked at him. My mind was blank with no thoughts except that it felt nice to know he was there.
I felt my eyes slowly start to close and sleep was taking over. My breathing was starting to even out until my eyes shut and the man's ugly face flashed in front of me.
'Such beauty.' I heard his chilling voice echo in my ears.
My eyes immediately snapped open and a loud gasp escaped my lips. My heart was hammering in my chest so loudly that I could feel the beat in my eardrums.
"Are you okay?" Mitchell's voice brought me back to reality, he was looking at me with concerned eyes.
"His face." I breathed, on the verge of hyperventilating, my eyes started to sting with threatening tears again.
"Hey, hey," He squeezed my hand, "I'm here and you're safe, no one's going to hurt you."
I nodded and took in a calming breath, but it didn't seem to help much.
"Hey Mila," Mitchell said in a consoling voice, "I got you."
He then let go of my hand and turned on his back, he gently pulled me closer and I rested my head on his chest, feeling his warmth and familiar cologne scent already acting as a tranquilizer. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me closer to his body.
"I got you." He said in an almost inaudible whisper, while he softly caressed my hair.
It was in his embrace, feeling his warmth and hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that I finally calmed down and let sleep take over.
A/N So this was not an easy chapter to write at all, I know it wasn't the usual kind of chapters you've been reading all along but I can confirm that this incident is a turning point in M&M's relationship. I hope you guys still liked it, I was so scared to update.
Till then,
Tina