Page 24 of Mila: The Godfather

Not really.

I haven’t, and I am the most positive person they will likely ever know. But I should have known peace is always so out of reach for me.

Life proves it in the next instant when I notice a blue sports car speeding beside us, The driver rolls the window down just enough for me to see it is a man. A man with gorgeous brown hair that looks like silk. Will it feel the same? I wonder.

I like the feel of silk. It makes me feel calm.

I stop humming when I focus on the man driving next to us and his soft-looking hair.

“Oh, shit,” Gus hisses at the same time the man rolls his window up and speeds up, leaving our side.

Turning my face away from the window, I look at a now worried Gus, but before I can open my mouth to ask what is wrong, there’s a loud screeching sound of tires that makes my ears ring painfully. It all happens so fast that I am unable to register it all. First, I hear Gus screaming profanities like a madman, and then it all grows eerily quiet.

The car doors open, and I’m being rushed out of the car. I feel like my head is about to explode, and my skin prickles with the unwanted touch. I don’t like strangers touching me.

Not really.

Just my sisters were able to touch me without triggering an episode.

An episode I feel rising to the surface.

“Mila. Listen to me. It’s me. It’s me.” The burn of his touch fades as I focus on his shoes while listening to the rough sound of his voice when the ringing in my ears too fades. “We don’t have much time.” A crash sounds eerily close to where we’re standing on a dead-end street. “Mila!” Gus yells, making me whimper. “I’m sorry.” Then his voice softens. “I need you to trust me. You are not safe. I need you to run as far away from here as you can and hide. He’ll find you.”

Shaking my head, I look up at his bearded cheek. “I am not leaving you here.” I don’t know what’s happening. All I know is that Gus has never sounded this worried before and that there is a lot of noise around us.

Cars honking.

People yelling obscenities.

It’s all too much.

Something is wrong.

“If you stay, then we’re both dead.” I play with the brim of my hand absently, contemplating his words. “I can’t take care of them if I have you to worry about. Please, princess, run. Now.”

He gently pushes me forward in the direction he wants me to go, and I do. My feet have a mind of their own as I move farther and farther away from him without knowing where I am headed.

This is my fault.

This is my fault.

I did this.

Stupid, stupid, Mila.

My mind won’t shut off, taunting me with the reality of my selfish decision.

Looking around me, all I see is a dead-end street and a back alley.

A huge dumpster.

I assess it and deduce that it might be the only place big enough for me to hide when I have no options.

I also think of the trash.

The awful smells.

And the germs.

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