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He bids us a safe trip before climbing into his SUV and driving off.
“They didn’t have regular Coke so I grabbed you a diet,” Mila says as she comes back into the vehicle.
I do my best to keep my nose from scrunching up, but the thought of drinking a diet soda makes my stomach turn.
“Thanks,” I tell her instead. Making a big deal out of something so petty would be pointless.
I help the boys into their seats, Jace being big enough to buckle his own belt, while she gets Sutton settled into her car seat.
The little girl arches her back, already losing her shit for being placed back into her car seat after having spent several hours in it already.
Mila looks up at me, andI told you soflashes in her eyes. I was hoping both she and Kincaid were wrong, but it’s not looking that way.
I argued with Kincaid about this not being a damn vacation. We aren’t taking a leisurely stroll across the United States, but I can already tell after getting back on the road that it’s going to take much longer than eighteen hours to get to New Mexico. Sutton’s crying only ebbed for a few minutes, and although she isn’t full on wailing, it’s clear she isn’t happy with being stuck in the car.
Thankfully, Mila doesn’t seem to be the type of person who’s going to complain in front of the kids which would only agitate them further.
She pulls something out of her purse, handing it back to Sutton who is strapped into her car seat directly behind me, but she moves too fast for me to tell what it is. It calms the little girl, her babbling having a happier edge to it.
“What did you give her?” I ask.
“A little stuffed toy,” Mila says as if it’s completely normal to carry something like that on you all the time.
I have so much to learn about kids.
The road stretches out in front of us. We aren’t taking the scenic route. We aren’t spending any time taking in the sights or detours to visit any special places. There’s an urge inside of me that drives me to get them to safety as quickly as possible, yet I don’t press my foot down on the gas as hard as I can. Their safety not only includes protection from Keres, but it also includes making this trip in one piece. That means paying attention and trying to predict what the other idiots on the road are going to do.
“Not much out here,” I tell her, gaining no response.
I glance over at her, wondering if her eyes are closed. I can only imagine how tired she is from parenting three kids, not to mention the exhaustion that comes from worrying about her future and not only how she’ll be able to take care of them but also how she’ll manage to protect them.
I want to tell her that she’ll never have to do anything alone ever again, but in my head that sounds like I’m trying to control her. Maybe in a way I am. I won’t let her make decisions that will in any way harm these children, and although I don’t think she’ll do something like that intentionally, I’ve discovered that she has a prideful streak to her.
I pray she understands that I have one as well, and I’m doing my best not to command her life more than I have to. But at the end of the day, I’ve already put my foot down and demanded that she go to New Mexico, not considering anything else in her life. I know she wouldn’t be in the passenger seat if her life wasn’t in danger. It’s extremely shitty that I’m sort of glad it is because there’s less of a fight to get her to comply right now.
“The guys are growing a corn field so the kids can have a little maze during the fall festival,” I say when the silence grows too thick between us.
“Creeps hang out in places like that,” she mumbles. “It’s like those weird old men that a lot of people think are just so cute because they’re watching young kids play at the park when, in fact, there’s a very real chance they’re perverts waiting for some little girl’s dress to fly up while she’s playing. It’s fu—freaking disgusting.”
I nod in agreement. Perverts do like to hang out in places like that. Those little mall playgrounds are the absolute worst.
“They’re doing it on Cerberus property, and I guarantee the children are a hundred percent safe.”
She doesn’t make a sound of relief when I explain it further, and I don’t know if I have a right to get a little annoyed with the implication that she thinks someone in the club is capable of hurting a child in any way.
“There isn’t a person connected to the club who would ever hurt a child,” I explain. “We spend our lives protecting people. I may not know these kids that well, but even if I didn’t know their names, I’d lay down my life to protect them.”
I chance a glance at her, finding her eyes pointed in my direction.
“That’s an easy thing to claim for anyone, but when push comes to shove, their actions are a little different.”
I wonder if she’s thinking of Janet and Carlen and how their lives started to look so very different from how they did a few years ago. We could argue that the people we knew would never endanger their children yet they were manufacturing drugs in the apartment above the garage. Meaning if the damn thing blew up, which clandestine cook rooms are known to do, the explosion could’ve easily hurt or even killed one of the boys. Was it a case of lesser evils? Were the lives of the boys threatened and they had literally no other choice?
I doubt they kept any kind of journal, which means there’s a very slim chance we’ll ever know the truth. What we do know is that there’s a trail of bodies behind Keres MC, and I’ll be damned if anyone in this vehicle becomes a part of that number.
“I can’t prevent a skinned knee, Mila, but I can guarantee that all three kids will be safe at the clubhouse. Everyone there will treat each one of them like their own.”
By the time I get another chance to look over at her again, she has turned her face away from me. I wish I knew what was in her head. If only there was some way to dive inside of there and help her calm down.
