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ROMAN
They kept me locked up for hours, beating the shit out of me until I passed out. Over and over, they told me I failed them, as if I didn’t already know that. They’re out fifty grand because of my stunt last night.
They touched Mila, and I lost control. I had to put on a good show, so no one would think I threw the fight. But when they touched her, something came over me. I couldn’t see anything but her being touched by them, and I wanted them dead. The assholes dumped me at the cemetery.
To “show me where I will be buried with my girl.”
Mila’s on their radar now. They said if I don’t give them fifty grand, they’ll kill her. Everything’s fucked. I fucked up. But Mom has the money. She has it there, stored away safely. It’s not fifty grand, but I can ask Hunter or Jace for a loan. I have to keep Mila safe. If anything happens to her, I will never forgive myself.
I drag my broken body down to Mom.
I let out a strangled sob when I see her name and reach out to trace it, leaving a smear of blood where the gold of the J once was.
“Mom, god. I need you.” I lay my head down on the grass. I need to close my eyes, just for a moment.
“Whenever you need me, I will be right here. Watching, looking down from heaven. I will give you a sign. Look for them.” I choke back a sob. Mom is so frail, her face is so thin I can see all the bones. It scares me.
“I don’t have anyone to love me when you go.” The tears stream down my face now.
“You have Mila. She’s a good friend and I know you’ll grow up to be a strong, brave man.”
“I’m gonna marry her mom.” I try to smile, I don’t want her to see me sad.
“Make sure you protect her, she might seem strong and brave all the time. But she’s human just like you and me.” Mom’s hand is cold as she touches my cheek.
“I promise Mom, I will take care of Mila. She can count on me to keep her safe.”
The breeze picks up, and it feels good on my hot body. Something lands on my face, and I brush it away. When the breeze picks up again, it happens for a second time. This time, I pick it off my face and pull it back to see with my eye, the one not swollen shut.
A daisy? Where did that come from? I look beside me and see another, the first one that fell on me. I push myself up and look at Mom. Is she sending me daisies? Is this a sign?
But then I see three more perched on the top of the headstone. I reach out and take one. These have been freshly picked and placed here only recently.
I hear the crunch of metal, and a scream rips through the air. My stomach drops. I look to the road before turning back to the daisies as they all fall to the ground and scatter in the breeze.
Oh god. Mila.
With every ounce of energy I have left, I run to her.
“Mila?” I call out, stumbling.
My ribs are broken, and every breath I take makes my body scream in pain. I need to get to her, so I press on as fast as I can, the white spots dancing in my vision with every breath I take.
My throat is hoarse and doesn’t carry far. “Mila?” I call again once I make it to the narrow street in front of the cemetery.
“Mila?” My throat feels like it’s closing as my vision swims.
Lying on the road is a small figure and a mangled pink bike.
Oh, god, Mila.
My feet stumble, one after the other, trying to get to her. But I feel like I’m wading through water, my body going backward. This is a nightmare; one I can’t escape.
“Mila?” God, answer me, tell me you’re alive.
“Roman?” her small voice carries to me.
I stumble and land beside her head, my hands hovering over her body. Blood pours from a gash on her head, her blonde hair now as red as the jersey I wear every Friday night. I don’t know where to touch her, where to begin to help.
