(Age Twenty – Six years after escaping the cult)
Mila~
Just when I think I’ve managed to find a slither of normalcy, it hits me. Wham! A blast from the freaking past. The moment it hits it flays me to the bone, grinding and grinding until I’m nothing but a puddle of sloppy pulp.
The panic always slams hard. It hurts to breathe then, clamping down on my lungs until all the air is squeezed from them.
It’s a battle to get to the restroom - the fight to keep acting casual, to get to a stall before the darkness rolls over me in a sickening wave.
I swallow back the bile pushing up my throat. Digging my nails deeper into my sweaty palms, I focus on every step that takes me closer to my destination where I can fight this in the privacy of a stall.
It’s a fight I intend to win - maybe not today but someday. I don’t know how yet, but I will. For now I have to fight my way to the restroom. Fight my next breath into my lungs, to stay calm for another few precious minutes.
It’s all about the fight, beating this thing one minute at a time.
My vision tunnels, a reminder that the panic attack is going to trip my ass in front of all the students, and I can’t have that. I can’t lose it, not yet.
Keep your shit together, Mila. Almost, babe, you’re almost there.
I wrap an arm around my churning stomach to try and ease the queasiness I’m feeling and to steady myself.
Liam decides to throw a party, and it’s the stupid prom all over again. I’ve had eight guys ask me to go with them. Eight! In two days. Freaking hell.
It’s not like I’m Miss America, or something.
I can hear Cathy saying, “All boys are horny idiots. You’d swear their brains stop functioning the moment they hit puberty. Dicks rule, brains drool.”
The problem is that my best friend, Harper, doesn’t like to say no. Oh, and she’s super-nova hot. Like sizzling off the charts hot. She has this whole blonde hair and soft green eyes look working for her. The girl just has to pout and the guys are all puddles of drool at her feet.
But … then there is me. I say no to everyone. Being raised in a cult still gives me nightmares.
Hey, I’m no Helen of Troy that men will cross oceans to wage wars for, but I’m no pavement special either. I’m in the safe zone, your typical girl next door type.
I think I’m okay. Okay-ish brown hair. Okay-ish gray eyes. I got dealt a shitty hand when it came to size. I’m a short shit. I mean like really short. Like five foot. No, I didn’t forget to add a point something. That’s it, the whole sum of me.
So back to the part about boys being horny idiots. You have this easy-going hot friend on the one side and then okay-ish me. The chick that says no on the other side.
Now enter the bunch of horny dicks who think I’m playing hard to get and the bet is on. Let’s see who can get Mila Jameson in bed first.
Yeah, like I haven’t heard the rumor running the mill around the college. Last Nathan heard, it was sitting at just over four hundred dollars for whoever gets me laid first. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried anything yet.
I’m offended. Only four hundred dollars? Geez. I’m not giving anything up for that.
It gets mind-numbing, saying the same shitty sentence over and over. There are especially the hard players, like Clive Ross. He just won’t take no for an answer.
I lost my shit five minutes ago. The ass, Clive Ross tried to force me into the maintenance closet! What the hell man? No, is no! Slimy, piece of shit.
Just thinking about the dark maintenance closet has my chest aching and my breaths rushing faster.
And that brings us back to me panicking my ass off, elbowing my way to the toilets.
I’m so sick of this.
Almost there, Mila. You can make it.
“Excuse me … sorry … in a hurry,” I start to mumble my way through the crowd that’s always gathering right between the guys and girls toilets. Just as my damn luck would have it, they start to move like a flock of birds, in the opposite direction I’m going, making things worse for me.
“Ah, freaking hell, people.” I want to sag down to the floor and just curl into a ball. My lungs are burning something fierce already.
I get bumped hard into the wall. Keeping to the wall, I squeeze my body against it and try to avoid walking into any more of the students around me.
My shoulder connects hard with a solid wall of muscle. I stagger back a dazed step before I manage to regain my balance. Hands take hold of my shoulders and steady me against the wall.
Unable to focus on anything but the door only a few more steps away from me, I mumble a quick, “Sorry”.
“You okay, Mila?” His voice is like a cold shower on my overheating brain. He’s standing so close I can feel his breath fan across my hot clammy skin.
Liam Wright.
Of all the people in the whole college. Couldn’t it be someone else? Anybody else, for crying out loud.
Hot-as-sin-Liam.
I drop my chin to my chest so he won’t be able to see the panic on my face. Despite the proverbial shit hitting the fan right now, feeling his hands on my shoulders makes it somehow easier to suck in a much needed deep breath.
But, all I get is a lung full of Liam. Within seconds, his woodsy fresh scent is all around me. I hold my breath and grind out ‘fine’ as I duck under his arm.
Dragging myself forward, I keep my eyes focused on the door. My pulse picks up its punishing pace, reminding me of darkness nipping at my heels.
Oh God! Make it stop. Please make it stop. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to fight this forever.
I sigh with relief when the toilets are within reach. Every breath I suck in feels like a wasted effort now. It’s not nearly enough to satisfy the burning need in my lungs.
“Hey, Mila, what’s wrong?” Liam asks. I can feel him right behind me.
Shit, the panic attack is really bad today. Even Liam sounds different. He actually sounds worried. I can’t focus on that right now, or I’m going to puke all over the floor and him. I have to make it inside and fast.
His fingers brush mine, the touch jolting my body, and the urge is strong to turn back, to just lean into him for a moment.
Wouldn’t that be crazy? Panic girl freaking her shit all over everyone’s golden boy. Don’t think that would go down too well with all the girls who love to worship at his feet.
I must be hallucinating, because I feel his fingers curl around mine, tugging me away from the restroom and closer to his chest that looks like a real awesome place to rest my pounding head.
The sudden close proximity of his body makes my pulse rate spike. Confusion swirls in my mind and I feel like a bug, ass-splatting against a windshield.
“I just need to…” Oh God, I’m going to hurl a whole litter of cats!
Keep your shit in, Mila.
I pull free and drag my ass through the door.
“Mila, hold up!” Clive Ross calls out as the door slams shut behind me. The ass just won’t give up!
Why is it when you’re having a real shitty moment, everyone suddenly notices you? Oh, I’m going to blow chunks any second.
The comfort I felt with Liam fades fast. It’s only the darkness again. A shaky breath shudders through me, tears push up the back of my throat, thick and suffocating. I keep my head down. The toilets aren’t the ideal place to have a panic attack but it’s better than having it outside where every student I know can see me.
It reeks of smoke and cheap deodorant. Girls come and go before their next class.
I bite down on my teeth, swallowing hard, praying a damn stall will open fast.
Oh God, let one open before I lose it. I suck in a shallow breath that rattles into my lungs only to come out wheezing a second later.
The girl next to me gives me a sideways glance. I recognize her from one of my classes. Ally, I think, or is it April? I try to focus on her name but it sounds weird in my scrambled mind. Not much of anything is making sense right now. Who would name their daughter after a month? April. Hi, I’m April. A.P.R.I.L. I spell the name out, hoping it won’t sound as weird then, but it sounds absolutely crazy.
I’m crazy.
I’m losing it, and no one will come out so I can lose it in the privacy of a stinking stall!
I can’t breathe! Shiiit, I can’t breathe!
“It’s your turn.” Ally, or April, or whatever her name is says.
Thank fuck!
I run into the stall and slam the door closed, locking it behind me. Sagging down on the dirty floor, I try to find some shred of calmness inside me. I have to fight this, if only I knew how. It’s been six long years and still I can only fight the darkness for so long before it takes me.
I start to rock myself, hoping the slight movement will calm my frail nerves.
It’s ironic how it always finds me. It chases me down as if I’m nothing but some worthless animal, until I’m locked up again. Whether it’s in a filthy stall in a bathroom, or the room back at the compound, I’m always locked up in the end.
I give myself over to the cold sweat trickling down my spine, the uncontrollable trembling, the numbing fear that reminds me that this life I’ve been living for the past few years is all just pretend. It’s nothing but a fantasy world that can come crashing down around me at any given moment. Someone just has to ask the wrong question. It can be the smallest thing and I’m on my knees, begging for forgiveness like a damn dog, having to explain why the ghosts from the past won’t leave me be.
I’ll always be a sinner, begging for the forgiveness that will never come.
I’m so scared they’ll find me. The fear weighs a ton and carrying it around all these years is starting to take its toll on me.
The tears won’t come and it makes my eyes burn even more. I press my palms hard into my eye sockets and rub hard, needing some sort of relief. I want to scream and howl for my loss and pain.
I rock harder, and the all too familiar stench wafts up my nostrils. I swallow hard on the bile pushing up from my churning stomach.
Fuck! What if they find me? I won’t survive back in the cult – not after tasting freedom. I’ll die.
Shit, no. Stop! You have to stop remembering, Mila. Don’t go there! Don’t think about the cult.
The first faint whisper breaks through my thoughts, threatening to drag me all the way down. ‘Daughter.’
A low raw moan claws its way up my throat. I wrap my arms around my knees in an attempt to console myself, to keep my body intact, because I might just shatter to pieces at the mere sound of those horrible monsters.
“No!” I whisper hoarsely, stopping my train of thoughts. “Stop, don’t go there. Don’t think it. Don’t say it. If you say it, it’ll be real.” I keep rocking. I keep the steady motion going.
I start to make feathery soft touches, up and down my arms, trying to soothe myself into some sort of calm state.
“No, you don’t dare think of them,” I bite the words out, shaking my head when my mind starts to wander down the dark path again.
“Do you have something to repent?”
I rock myself hard to try and rid myself of the memories and fear. I slam my head against the wall between the two stalls. The pain is almost welcome. I drop my forehead to my knees, sucking air into my lungs.
I can’t keep doing this.
I can’t let them keep winning.
I’m free of the cult. I’m free. I keep telling myself this, reminding myself that I’m safe, that they won’t come for me. Cathy has kept me hidden for so long. The cult has most probably forgotten about me. I have to keep telling myself that they wouldn’t keep looking for me after so many years.
I remind myself of this, over and over, until I feel my heartbeat start to slow down. I feel my breaths ease against my legs until I can take deeper ones. I don’t move a muscle until the trembling stops, too.
“You’re free. Get your ass up, Mila. You’re not that weak little kid anymore. You’re stronger than that. You survived them. You will survive this,” I whisper one more time, just to hear the words out loud. I push myself up against the wall, my shaky legs threatening to take me right back down to the filthy floor.
Cathy sacrificed so much for me. She home schooled me the first two years after she rescued me. She taught me so much. She gave me a whole new life.
I’ve asked her more than once why we can’t just go back to Utah and steal Claire from the cult. I’ve begged and even threatened to go on my own, but she’s right – Claire’s too young. It was hard enough for Cathy to keep me hidden until I was eighteen, but to kidnap and hide a thirteen year old? I’d be asking Cathy to risk her life and she’s already sacrificed so much for me. I have to wait until Claire is sixteen before I can attempt to rescue her. At the age of sixteen, Claire will have the same chances I did. She’ll be able to make something of herself, just like I’ve been doing.
I have to be patient. Just three more years. It will give me time to prepare for her arrival, to save up some money so I can provide for her.
In the meantime, I get to study so I can try to get a good job. Cathy has become a mother to me. I’m lucky.
I have people I can count on. I even have friends.
I have dreams
I’m lucky. I keep repeating this until the panic attack has totally faded.
Reaching for the toilet paper, I tear a piece off to blow my nose.
When I leave the stall, the place has emptied out. Looking at my watch, I’m relieved to see I’ve only spent ten minutes in here. I hate drawing attention to myself.
I suppose I can still sneak in the back of the hall and make the last half of class. Hopefully no one will notice I was missing and I won’t have to explain anything.
My eyes are puffy and my nose red, just great. I dig in my handbag for the powder I keep around for times like this, and try to cover up the damage as best I can. I drag a brush through my hair and spray myself. Yeah, I might as well add my share to the smell of cheap deodorant hanging in the air.
I check myself one more time to make sure I look half decent. Besides, Harper will only drag my ass back if I look like crap. She has this way of thinking that if you look good you’re halfway to feeling good. If you look like crap you’re going to feel like crap. Just thinking about her motto makes me whip out some lip gloss so she doesn’t give me a hard time later.
When I’m done doing damage control, I have full intentions of sneaking to the hall to make the class until I open the door. For a split second I think about slamming it closed and hauling ass back to the nearest stall. I’m so freaking tired. I don’t need this shit. I lean heavily against the door and sigh. I walk into the passage giving Clive the dirtiest look I can muster. The guy just doesn’t know the meaning of no.
(Age Twenty Two – Six years after leaving the cult and Rosie’s death)
Liam~
Fuck, I’m worried about Mila.
I’m in the restroom, trying to buy some time. I’ve never wasted so much time in the restrooms before. Little Pete even offered me a smoke. There’s still no sign of Mila, and the only other person left out there is that dick Ross.
It looks like the dude has a ruler rammed up his ass. I swear if I catch him sniffing around Mila one more time, I might just yank the ruler out and beat the living shit out of him with it.
“No, Clive! No means no.” Mila’s tired voice yanks me right out of my thoughts. My eyes jump to where she’s standing, holding onto the door only a few feet from me.
She looks pale. She’s definitely not herself today, and the dickhead is begging for a beating, messing with my girl.
I might not have made it official between Mila and myself yet, but it’s only a matter of time. The key word here is yet. The guys should know by now not to screw with Mila. Still, there seems to be the one odd dumbass who feels his balls are worth the sacrifice.
“C’mon, Milly, it’s just one date,” the douche begs, pushing away from the wall.
Wait? Milly? Where does he get off calling her that?
She steps forward and I think about doing the same instead of standing here like a creeper, hiding behind the door.
“My answer’s not going to change in five minutes.” She looks pissed as she starts to walk in my direction.
Clive still won’t give up. He jogs up to her and grabs hold of her arm.
Fuck, I wish I had Hunter here to back me. My cousin could deal with Ross, teach the dumbass a lesson once and for all while I’d take care of Mila.
Between Hunter and me, Hunter’s more prone to violence. But as I watch Mila’s whole body tense and she tries to pull away from the creep, I see red.
He’s going to die a slow death if he doesn’t take his hand off her.
“It’s one party. You’re seriously not going to go to the party?” he asks, actually sounding upset with her for turning his ass down.
Who does this asshole think he is, asking her to my party in the first place? Can’t he take no for an answer?
Tell him to take a hike, Mila, or I’ll come and do it for you.
My muscles are tense and my hands clenched, ready to knock Ross through a wall.
“No, I’m not going,” she sighs. She yanks her arm from his.
Hold up, she’s not going with him, or she’s not coming to my party?
“I’m late for class.” She takes another step towards me, but the asshole must have the thickest skin in college, or some death wish, because he goes for her hand again.
I’ve stood on the sidelines long enough. I shove the door out of my way, letting it bang against the wall. I give Ross a ‘back the fuck away’ look the second his head snaps in my direction.
Yeah, that’s right. She’s my girl.
I burn the message into him with a glare, and he wisely takes a step back.
I have two reputations in college, one good, one not so good. I got both from being one of the four. It’s Mickey, Blake and Hunter, and then there’s me. The four of us rule this college. At least, we did for the last four years, but that’s coming to an end after today. You fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us. It’s a painful experience, to say the least. Mickey’s made a name for himself with the girls and thanks to him we got labeled the screw-crew.
The story of my life. I have friends who will have my back no matter what, but now Mila won’t give me the time of day, thanks to Mickey’s reputation.
A smile splits across Ross’ face. “Liam, my man.”
“Ross,” I don’t bother with his first name. He’s not my friend. I ignore the asshole and focus on Mila, “You feeling better? Ready to get out of here?”
Her soft grey eyes widen. She’s shocked to see me. She’s always shocked to see me. I can never figure out why.
Her mouth opens and closes a few times and then she starts to do that thing I love so much. She twirls her watch on her left wrist, inching it up and down. It’s quick movements. She has the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen. Her petite fingers that flutter to move her watch can send me into a trance.
She clears her throat, dragging my eyes up to her full lips.
“I-I … ah,” she stammers.
I’m sure she’s thinking ‘what the hell, not another douche.’ I better do something before she kicks my ass to the curb in front of Ross.
I move in and throw my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my side. There is no way I’m letting Ross-The-Perv have another shot at her.
It must be my lucky day, because she doesn’t pull away. In fact, I feel her lean into my side and it gives me the courage to hold her a little tighter.
I wish Ross was MIA. The first time I get to hold Mila and he has to be watching. This sucks.
“Later, Ross,” I mumble over my shoulder, wanting to get rid of his ass as quick as possible.
I steer Mila in the direction of class. We always have our last class together on Fridays.
I need to find out if she’s coming tonight. When we’re out of hearing distance I lean in closer to her.
Dammit, I love the smell of her, something soft and flowery. It always makes me think of those wild flowers you see growing in open fields on postcard pictures. She looks wild and free, but soft like those flowers.
I lean in more until her silky hair brushes my chin. My girl, all sweet. Bet she’ll taste sweet all over as well.
I grow hard just thinking about tasting her. I want this girl more than I want my next breath. I have to clear my throat to make sure my voice doesn’t sound like it’s breaking. The last thing I need is to sound like a damn love-struck teenager.
“Nothing says awkward like a guy begging, but did you mean what you said back there?”
There’s a flush creeping up her cheeks. I’m really glad she’s looking better. She had me worried there for a few minutes.
“Which part?” Glancing up at me, her eyes catch mine.
If I lean in a little more, I’d be able to kiss her. Damn, I want to kiss her. I want to taste her so bad.
“Liam?”
“Yeah?”
She smiles, and I feel like an idiot for staring at her.
“Oh yeah … ah…” I rub the back of my neck, “The part where you said you’re not coming to my party.”
“I’m definitely not going anywhere with Clive. Thanks, by the way, for that back there. He just wouldn’t give up.”
I pull her to a stop outside the hall. I’m not ready to let go of her yet.
She turns into me and it brings our bodies so much closer. We both freeze - me with my one arm around her shoulder and my other hand hanging carelessly from my neck, and her standing a mere inch from me.
Fuck, I can’t even breathe.
“He’s a little persistent, if you know what I mean,” she whispers softly and I feel the heat of her breath seep into my t-shirt.
She’s trying to go on as if nothing is happening. I should just play along. Rule number one. Don’t embarrass a girl.
But this is Mila. We’ve been doing this for two years now. I take a step forward and she takes one back. I’m so tired of this dance we keep doing around each other.
She belongs with me.
I have to say something to keep her from running.
“Is being persistent a bad thing?” Why do I want to know this? Oh yeah, because I’m about to be persistent myself. I’m not going to back down this time.
“Depends on the guy - I suppose,” she says, dropping her voice to a husky whisper as she slips from under my arm just like she did earlier. She sneaks through the open door into the hall.
Like I said, it’s always a step backwards with Mila.
It’s time for action. I’m leaving for the University of Chicago after summer break. We only have a few weeks and I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave my girl here thinking she’s not mine. Everybody better be clear about that the day I leave.