Chapter Two
Mila
I glanced at the time. It was almost midnight, and Devon still wasn’t here. I was exhausted, but tired as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. Every time I drifted off, another nightmare had me screaming back to consciousness.
I tried to think about things logically. Walter knew I had a brother in a prominent motorcycle gang. The Fallen Angels had built themselves a reputation over the years. They were not known for criminal activity like the Lucifer’s Knights were, but everyone knew you couldn’t mess with them. I was hoping that that reputation had scared Walter enough that he had high-tailed it out of town to avoid getting into hot water with one of the members.
Then I reminded myself that Walter also knew that I wasn’t very close to Devon. He and I were half-siblings. We had grown up separately and lived our lives with no real connection for a long time. I had slowly got in touch with him in the last couple of years after I’d left my mother’s house, but even after I’d moved to the same town he had lived in for the past several years, it hadn’t done much to deepen our connection.
I had only called Devon out of sheer desperation. Instantly, my mind flew back to the night I had run from Walter. He was still half-drunk and huffing around like a lion in a cage. My throat was still raw and sensitive, and when I concentrated really hard, I could almost feel his fingers constricting around it.
“Get me a drink,” he had barked at me in my corner.
This time, I had nodded obediently and done as I was told. There was a time and place to stand up for yourself, and this wasn’t it. I had gone to the kitchen with my hands still shaking and poured him a drink. I wasn’t sure if it was panic or reason, but I had the presence of mind to grab a couple of sleeping pills from the bottom right-hand drawer and slip them into the glass.
I went out to Walter and offered them to him with my head bowed low. I didn’t want to see his face, and I didn’t want him to see mine. I was scared that my expression would rat me out and he would finish the job he had started only an hour ago and kill me.
It had taken fifteen long minutes, but the moment I heard an unmistakable snore from him, I rushed to the room, grabbed my things, and headed for the door. The whole time, I could feel my heartbeat echoing in my ears like a dirge. If he woke up and found out that I had left him, he would kill me. I knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.
I had gone to the police station immediately. Cedar Grove was a small town, and in place of a police force, we had a small station that was run by the sheriff. So that’s exactly who I wanted to speak to when I ran in with dried tear tracks imprinted on my cheeks.
“I need to speak to the sheriff,” I had said, to the man sitting at the front desk in a police uniform.
“He’s out,” the officer replied. “I’m Officer Stallone. How can I help you?”
“My boyfriend tried to kill me,” I gasped. “He threatened to finish the job if I ever left him and… I just left him.”
The officer had stopped short and regarded me coolly. He was a young cop, possibly in his mid to late twenties, no more than a few years older than me. He had dark eyes and blond hair, and he looked me over like he was trying to evaluate me. I had become conscious of myself immediately, and it struck me that my appearance might color my credibility. I must have looked like a basket case in my dress, which Walter had ripped. I had a sleeve falling off my shoulder, and the hemline had a tear too, giving me a slit I didn’t want.
My ragged appearance combined with my tear-stained face and my disheveled hair no doubt made me look less than reliable, but I clung to the hope that this officer would take pity on me and listen to my story.
“What’s your name?” Officer Stallone had asked.
“Mila,” I had replied breathlessly. “Mila Mikalson.”
“And your boyfriend’s name?”
“Walter Black.”
Officer Stallone looked at me suddenly. When I glanced at him questioningly, he changed the expression. “What was that name again, Walter…?”
“Black.”
Then he had led me to a bench and told me to wait for him there. I had sat there for almost an hour, terrified that Walter was going to walk into the little station, point a gun at my head and shoot. But in all honesty, that was really the best-case scenario if Walter ever found me. I knew him well enough to know that he liked to play with people before he doled out his brand of ‘justice.’
I shook my head and looked around my shoebox apartment. The only two windows had been shut tight, and I had drawn the blinds on them so that nobody could see inside. I glanced at the time. It was now past twelve, and still, there was no sign of Devon. I called him twice, but there was no answer.
I had hated the idea of accepting his protection and staying in the clubhouse that he liked to call his second home, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice anymore. I was so scared that sometimes the fear paralyzed me, and I had this instinct inside me that Walter wasn’t just going to slink into the shadows and disappear from my life. He was not the kind of guy who forgot slights easily. He was going to come after me when I least expected it.
Sometimes in quiet moments like these, it baffled me how I had even gotten involved with someone like Walter Black. He had seemed so different to me at the time. He was tall and definitely imposing in manner and build, and I had to admit, his dangerous look was what had initially drawn my attention.
I remembered the day I had met him as clearly as if it had happened only a few hours ago. I had been walking to work, trying my best to make it on time for once, when I heard the sound of a motorcycle slow down next to me.
“Hello there,” he had called to me, revving the engine slightly.
I had stopped short, mesmerized by the beauty of the machine he was riding. It was gigantic and powerful, but there was a sleek grace to it as well.
“Hi,” I had replied to the blue-eyed stranger who was smiling at me.
“You look like you need to be somewhere in a hurry.”
I smiled. “Work,” I replied. “I’m late.”
“Hop on.”
“I… really?”
“Sure,” he nodded. “I’ll get you there with time to spare.”
Feeling a burst of adrenaline, I had hopped onto the back of his motorbike and told him where I worked. Then, he had taken off down the streets. It had been an amazing feeling, zooming through the roads with the wind in my hair. We had gone so fast at one point that tears had been forced from my eyes.
I was still recalling the memory when my front door flew open, and I screamed in terror. A huge, tall man in a facemask walked in and came straight for me. It was Walter; of course, it was. He had finally come for me. I didn’t even question why he might be wearing a mask, but it had to be him. His size and stature suggested that I was right.
“No,” I screamed as I darted behind the sofa, looking around for some weapon I could use to defend myself.
He didn’t come around the sofa. Instead, he scaled it in one easy step, and he had me cornered just like that. I backed into the wall, determined not to make this easy for him.
He lunged for me, and I tried to claw my way out of my corner, but he grabbed my hands easily, pinned them behind my back, and slung me over his shoulder as though I weighed nothing more than ten pounds. I tried to fight and struggle against him, but his arms were like steel ropes holding me in place.
I started to scream, but then I saw someone else materialize in the doorway, and the screams froze on my tongue.
“Devon?” I gasped.
“Calm down,” he said, holding up his hands. “It’s ok… you’re safe.”
“What—”
The man holding me threw me down onto my sofa and removed the mask so that I could see his face. It wasn’t Walter after all. He had the same height and build… but his features were very different. He had short, dark hair and hazel brown eyes that were piercing in their extreme lightness. He had a strong jaw, and I saw tattoos snaking up his neck.
“Who are you?” I asked softly. “What the hell was this?”
“I wanted to see if you could defend yourself,” he replied before Devon could. “And apparently you’re more helpless than a child.”
I bristled at that. “You broke into my apartment—”
“The person who’s trying to harm you is not going to make an announcement.”
His tone was condescending, and his expression was arrogant, and I felt the need to slap him. Instead, I turned to Devon. “Who is this?” I asked.
“The name’s Zack,” he replied again, cutting Devon off. “And I’m the man who’s graced you with his protection until your boyfriend can be found and dealt with.”
I frowned. “You’re the president of the Fallen Angels?”
“I am.”
I clenched my jaw. He was younger than I had expected… but I supposed that was where his cocky arrogance came from. I could tell from Devon’s posture that he was slightly tense and unsure. I could also sense that he was weary of Zack and unsure of my reaction to him.
“I wouldn’t have accepted your protection if I had any other choice,” I said.
I saw Devon’s face pale a little, and he shook his head at me in an attempt to get me to shut up.
“You disapprove of our lifestyle?” Zack asked quietly.
“You’re all bullies and brutes who throw your weight around to stroke your egos,” I said, still recovering from the fake break-in.
“Your brother is my secretary-at-arms,” Zack pointed out.
“He can do better.”
Zack raised his eyebrows at me, and we stared each other down. It was the only standoff I could manage, and my bruised pride would not allow me to look away.
“Maybe you would do better on your own?” Zack suggested threateningly.
I clenched my jaw. He knew he had backed me into another corner. He knew I couldn’t afford to turn down his protection. I knew what he was waiting for. He was waiting for me to apologize, take back my words, and grovel.
“I… I can’t,” I said softly, breaking eye contact.
He smiled, and I felt a burning coil of anger rip through my body. I looked at the strong, powerful, brutish man in front of me. He was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on, and I hated him already.