Page 57 of The Lie
When I don’t answer, he gets up and shoves me. I stumble back and crash onto the floor. I try to concentrate on breathing as my vision grows dark, and I don’t want to pass out in front of him. He’ll probably beat me while I’m unconscious.
“You gonna die?” he asks casually, like he’s asking about the weather.
I look up at him. The eyes reflecting back make me shiver.
“If so, tell me where you stash your cash so I can get beer.”
I scream. Everything I have, I scream at him…at the world. “Fuck you!” I’m done.
I get up and shove him. He takes a swing, and I block it. I hit him as he stumbles, but he doesn’t seem to register the hit, the drugs in his system making him feel nice and good. While every bone in my body screams at me in pain.
Only, I don’t have the energy to fight him, and he gets in a few cheap shots. I stumble my way back to my room. He’s screaming out at me, calling me a pussy. If anyone’s the pussy, it’s him. Only a weak man would beat down his injured son.
I listen to him rant and rave for ten minutes before I pick up my phone and dial Mila.
I need her to be safe, and if I’m not here anymore, she’ll be safe…right? When I’m no longer an Amato puppet, there will be no reason to hurt her. I need her to know how much I love her. That she’s my world; I only exist for her.
But as soon as I hear her voice, I knowI can’t. I can’t leave her here alone with men like my father and the Amato family out there. She needs someone to protect her. I have to fight for her.
“Roman?” she calls out, and I whisper the words I have wanted to tell her every day since she gave me that very first hug.
“I love you.” I disconnect the call and turn off my phone.
A tear rolls down my face, and I wipe it away. My hair covers my eyes, so I brush it back behind my ear and sag into the mattress. Closing my eyes, I see her splashing water at me and messing up my hair, just so she can push it behind my ear.
Her giggles, the way she scrunches her nose at pineapple on pizza. The way she bites her lip when she’s thinking, the way that…
I love Mila Hart.
TWENTY-FOUR
MILA
By the time I make it to the trailer park, it’s dark and scarier than it is during the day. I shrink behind the steering wheel as I make my way down to Roman’s trailer.
I see the little white car he’s been driving and park beside it. After turning off the ignition, I take a deep breath. I’m worried about what I’ll find inside that trailer, and I need to be brave right now. I can’t be scared. In order to help Roman, I need to put on my big girl panties and get in there.
As I exit my car, the night air wraps around me in a chilling hug. I hope it’s not a premonition of the night. Roman is strong. He has to be okay.
But how long can one person be strong without breaking?
I take a few steps forward and almost fall face-first because the length of the dress makes it hard to move fast. I wish I’d changed before coming here. The dress exposes me more than I would like out here. I’m just glad I have sneakers on. At least I can get to the car faster than in heels if I need to.
I lock my car and hold my keys in my hand, quickly adjusting them so that two keys are sticking out of my fisted hand. It’s a tip I’d seen on YouTube for women walking alone at night. Two keys. I would feel a little better if I didn’t have to use my left hand, but it’s better than nothing.
The porch of the trailer is dark, but the window beside it glows with the faint light of a TV. His father must be here. Damon’s done something to him—I’m sure of it.
I knock and stand back, waiting for the vile man to appear.
He doesn’t take long, slamming the door open and squinting to see me. “You got beer?” he asks, and I think, at first, he hasn’t recognized me.
I take a deep breath and stand tall. “No, I’m here to take Roman.”
And I am. There’s no way I’m letting him live here another day. If he doesn’t come with me, I’m calling Child Protective Services myself. I know he doesn’t want that, but I just can’t see him like this anymore. He would be better off anywhere but here.
“Ah, pussy boy is licking his wounds in his room. Come in, sweet thang.”
I cringe at the way he sayssweet thang. He lingers at the door and it has me tightening the fisted keys. They hurt my hand, but it’s nothing like the hurt he could inflict on me. When he doesn’t move, I slide past him.
