Page 38 of Mila: The Godfather

Although he didn’t seem threatening then, and he doesn’t feel that way now.

Noticing movement from the corner of my eye, I turn away from the window and watch as the man Riagan called Kelly steps out of the pilot’s cabin, walks to where Riagan is seated and says something in his ear then goes back to the cockpit.

“That’s rude.” I blurt out cause the silence and boredom are getting to me. I look at where Riagan is seated, scrolling on his phone.

“What is rude?” My eyes travel from his neck to his face and I watch him smile. When he smiles, one side of his mouth lifts higher than the other. Suddenly, it hits me that I’m in an airplane on my way to a new place with a super-hot, much older guy with ink-covered, tan muscles.

Swallowing hard, I tell him. “Secrets. Sharing secrets in front of other people is rude.”

His smile widens, and my stomach does a double flip. I watch as he places the phone down next to his gun without looking away from me. My heart slows for a second as he stays silent. What is he thinking? If he smiled, then he wouldn’t be mad at my comment, right? But I’ve seen men lash out with smiles on their faces. Why must humans be so confusing? That is why I prefer plants. They’re easy to comprehend. They only need water, light, and a gentle touch.

But don’t we all?

“You are right,” he says.

“I know I am,” I whisper.

He laughs again. Why is he laughing? I didn’t make a joke. “Secrets are rude. Although Kelly didn’t share a secret, sweetheart. He was letting me know that all is set for once we land.”

I frown. “You’re correct. That is not a secret. He could have just said it out loud.”

“He could have. Next time, I’ll make sure he does.”

“I am sorry.” I blurt out again. Jeez. Here we go. I’ll start to babble, and he’ll get annoyed. Ducking my head, turning my face, and looking out the window again, using it as a shield for what will undoubtedly come next.

“Mila.” His voice is commanding, yet hard and soft at the same time. How he does it, I do not know. “Look at me.” He commands gently.

It takes me a few seconds, but I do as he says. I try to look at him without bowing my head and letting my hair cover me from view like my ball cap used to do. My eyes meet his long enough for me to find warmth instead of anger or annoyance. That I am used to, but not warmth. Not from people who are not used to people like me. People that don’t fit in their perfect boxes.

“Don’t ever say sorry. Not to me. Not to anyone. Not for speaking or asking questions. You only say sorry when you hurt someone. Someone who does not deserve it, and sweetheart, you haven’t hurt me, so there is no need to say sorry. You want to spit facts all the way to the islands? You fucking do that, I am all ears. You want to stay in silence? We’ll do that. But what you won’t do is say sorry for being you.” After he is done, all I can do is sit there with my heart beating fast and my mind reeling from the words that just left his mouth. The people in my life are used to my quirkiness, and they even encourage me to just be me. But deep down, I know at times, they get frustrated, even if it’s just for a second. They’re humans, and they’re not perfect. I get it, but at times, I felt like they didn’t get me either. That I was alone in my uniqueness, and here this man is telling me to fully be myself and to never apologize for it.

I am left speechless.

I panic for a moment trying to find the right words, but I come up empty, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. The easier answer.

“Okay.” I track his movements as he grabs a pack of cigarettes from inside his shirt’s breast pocket, takes one cigarette out, and places it between his lips. Is he going to smoke here? Does he know that secondhand smoke kills?

I watch the cigarette between his lips when he says. “Okay.”

I guess that’s it.

So easy.

Nothing has ever been this simple.

It’s odd.

Before now, he hadn’t said much after we boarded the plane. Yes, answered my questions about Gus but vaguely. He told me all about how Gus, the man who has been my guard for years, is a double agent. I refuse to think of him as a rat, even if my sister will see it just like that. Gus was tasked to take care of me on both sides. By my sister, Kadra’s command, and Riagan.

There’s more to this story, and my mind won’t rest until I find out exactly what is going on.

There has to be more to it.

I’ll figure it out.

My eyes find him again. For a person who has trouble keeping eye contact, I sure find myself wanting to look at him more.

This is all so new…

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