Page 400 of Rage

My heart aches for her, but I don’t show it. I know that’s not what she wants.

Mila doesn’t want pity.

She wants understanding. We all do.

I share my story next of my father and the control he tried to exert over my life. I don’t actually tell the group that it’s my father. I just say a “man I was close to” and no one pushes me to explain further. It’s hard enough to talk about those times, anyway. When I didn’t listen to his insane demands, I was punished with beatings and sexual assault so bad that I couldn’t attend school for weeks at a time. My father didn’t give a shit about me butfuck, if his reputation wasn’t prioritized. The moment I turned 18, I was out of his home and in the city.

It’s a story I’ve told before, but it still stings.

Mila listens, her dark eyes telling me without words that she cares. She gives me a slight nod when I finish, and I know she gets it. She understands the need to escape, to start over.

As the group wraps up, Mila catches me staring at her. Again.

Fuck. I gotta get a handle on myself.

She gives me a small smile, and I feel a connection form between us. It’s not romantic—it’s something more. It’s a recognition of shared pain and trauma-based acceptance.

For now, that’s enough.

That has to be enough.

Before, I would get tangled up in relationships, using them to distract myself. But since joining the group, I’ve stayed clear of romantic entanglements. I needed to work on myself, and that’s what I’ve been doing. I know Mila is doing the same.

It’s paid off, too; my career has taken off. I’m the highest-paid worker in my shop now and have a reputation for being the best. Being a steelworker in New York is rough, but I wouldn’t trade the experience I gained for anything. Especially when they let me in at just 18 working the crane in order to survive on my own when I got here. I owe that company my life, because where would I have ended up without it?

But as much as I try to ignore it, something about Mila pulls at me. It’s not just her looks although she is absolutely stunning with her dark skin and raven hair. Men would start wars over those full lips if we were from a different time.

Even as I try to tell myself not to speak with her, I find myself rushing out to do just that when the meeting is over.

I catch up to her as she’s leaving the building and heading towards the subway. I spot her jeans and black jacket as her tall boots hurry her across the pavement.

“Mila, hold on a minute.”

She turns, slightly frowning, and I wonder if I’ve made a mistake. I notice her entire frame is tense before she sees it’s me. But then her expression softens, and she waits for me to catch my breath as I step before her.

“Hey,” she says, her voice cautious.

“Hey,” I reply, trying to sound casual. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,” she says defensively. “It’s just that I wasn’t expecting you to follow me out.”

I let out a dark chuckle. “Following you is hardly what I was doing. I tried to catch you after the meeting, but you’re quick for someone so short.“

She rolls her eyes at my joke. “Not all of us can be giants like you.”

I glance down at my body, pretending to notice it for the first time. I have on black jeans, a cream sweater, and a brown leather jacket. My father always wore black leather, and I’m careful not to keep it in my wardrobe. Mila has on black leather, but she’s the only one who wears it that doesn’t bother me. I hold my hand up to my chest and pretend to measure her height against mine, then look at her.

“I think I’m the perfect size for you.”

I watch a pretty blush take over her face and smile at her in return.

Mila plays with the hem of her jacket and eyes me warily. “So, what did you want?”

I take a deep breath and rub my hand on the back of my neck to calm my nerves. “I’m curious if you’d like to grab something to eat tonight if you’re not busy.”

I don’t know what expression I anticipate her to have, but sadness isn’t one of them.

Mila’s eyes close tightly before looking back up at me and I take note of how she looks at the scar along my jaw. “I’m sorry, Beckett. I’m not really ready for that yet.” She pauses as she lets out a shaky breath. “I’ve got plans tonight, anyway.”

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