SWNOVELS The Fake Zone: Chapter 40
Cole, Abe, Dustin, Hudson, Palmer, Corey, Mila, and Evelyn fill my mother’s house. Nolan only stayed in Oleander Springs because Hadley and Hannah were in class.
The guys from the team and I arrived here an hour ago after receiving a series of texts from Cole warning me things had gone awry. A-fucking-gain.
Mom sets a mug of hot chocolate in front of Mila and stares down Cole. She’s pissed at him, Mackey, and Abe for making her work out, certain Mila’s in shock after running three and a half miles from a lunatic, and the cops informing her there was little that could be done.
Again.
Mom’s been at the stove, making hot chocolate while drying her eyes as Mila recounted her past.
I hated that Mila had to tell the story again, and watching her pain cut up our closest friends only made it harder. Evelyn cried, and Hudson had to wipe his face more than once.
“She needed to work out,” Cole insists. “She needed to clear her head.”
Mom glowers.
“I’m okay,” Mila assures us all. “I just wish we had better answers for next steps.”
Palmer sets his hands on the table. “It sounds like best case scenario is the cops issuing a restraining order.”
“A fucking misdemeanor charge.” Cole glances at my mom. “Sorry, Colleen.”
Mom doesn’t even blink.
“He can’t track her anymore,” Abe says.
“But depending on how long he’s been tracking her, he already knows her routine and everywhere she goes,” Corey points out.
“Including where the gym is,” Mila adds.
Cole sits straighter in his chair. “Let him come to the gym.”
Mila shakes her head. “I don’t want you guys to get involved.” She looks across the group. “Any of you.”
Evelyn places a hand on Mila’s shoulder. “I can’t understand why our only options are sucky or suckier?”
“She could stay out here in Highgrove,” Cole says. “It might be the safest place for her.”
“She’s not staying out here,” Hudson says.
“Why?” Abe asks. “Our town isn’t good enough for you?”
“Because she has classes and friends,” Palmer shoots back without faltering.
“And a guy wants to kidnap her and hold her ransom.” Cole stands.
Corey moves to stand beside Palmer.
Hudson tucks a wide-eyed Evelyn behind him.
“Enough,” I say, moving between the two parties that naturally divided to opposite sides of the kitchen when they arrived.
“The amount of testosterone in here is going to all of your heads,” Mila says, abandoning her chair and blocking the open route between Abe and Palmer. “We’re all on the same team.”
“I don’t know them,” Abe says, shaking his head.
“But you know me,” I tell him.
“This is going to involve all of you,” Mom says, leaning against the fridge, arms crossed. “Mila is safest when she’s around others. This will require you all to get along.”
“And you guys would like each other if you were meeting under better circumstances,” Mila says.
Abe laughs viciously.
Mila looks ready to try out the left hook she was working on when I arrived at the gym on Abe’s face.
Thankfully, the alarm on the microwave goes off, alerting us the frozen lasagnas Mom brought home are ready.
“Dustin, Cole, you two get drinks. Hudson and Corey, grab some plates.” Mom turns to me. “You and Abe get the card table and chairs.”
Abe follows me to the back addition that Grandpa and I built on. Neither of us speaks until I pass him four of the eight chairs. The table isn’t a traditional card table but a folding buffet table that we use to play poker and other card games during the warmer months when Mom hosts barbecues and birthday parties outside so the house isn’t so cramped.
“Is this serious? I mean, she’s hot. I get it, but—”
My fist is balled in Abe’s shirt so fast he doesn’t have time to drop the chairs and defend himself.
He arches his brow, and grins, proving he’ll never shy away from a fight or show fear. “A simple yes would have sufficed.”
I release my hold and shove him back several inches. I’ve never hit Abe, and I know if he remains too close right now, that streak will end. “I should have introduced you to these guys two fucking years ago,” I admit. “They’re good guys, guys we would’ve been friends with.”
Abe shakes his head. “They’ve had their lives handed to them on silver platters. They have no idea what it’s like.”
“Hudson’s had to be a parent for most of his life to his little brother who has autism. Their mother was a sorry drunk for most of their childhood and their dad traveled around the country playing football. And Corey’s parents have never watched him play a single fucking game. They’re strangers to each other. And Palmer lost his mom six years ago. Money can do a lot, but it doesn’t make you invincible.”
Abe loses a breath.
“If you give them a chance, they’ll grow on you.”
“So will mold,” Abe says.
I glare at him.
Slowly, Abe sighs. “We’ll consider things neutralized until shit gets settled.”
I snicker and grab the other four chairs, leading him back to the dining room where we set it up, blocking entry to the living room.
Mom calls names and hands each of us a plate filled with lasagna, garlic bread, and salad before assigning us a seat like we’re in fucking grade school, ensuring she mixes the two groups.
“I can’t get past the fact this guy feels like you owe him.” Dustin shakes his head as he covers his salad in ranch dressing.
Mila shakes her head. “I can’t get past the fact I didn’t know about the sentencing or my parents petitioning the court.”
“It doesn’t surprise me,” Hudson says. “I would have done the same in their shoes and kept you out of it. What if they’d lost?”
“I wasn’t looking for revenge,” Mila says.
Cole pulls his head back like he’s been slapped. “You didn’t want revenge?”
Mila’s eyes glitter with raw emotions. “My list would be too long. He was one of too many who failed Mal.”
“What about the letters?” Evelyn asks. “Did Jon know what Julian or Waylon or whatever his name is was talking about?”
Mila nods. Jon had called moments after I arrived at the gym, and Mila set the call on speaker, allowing me to hear both sides from the cab of my truck. He was enraged, upset with Mila for not telling him about Julian sooner, livid at the police and how they handled it, and enraged that Julian Holloway was still traumatizing her all these years later. After telling Mila about the letters and their part in keeping him in prison, he assured her he would handle it. “Jon said he sent a few hundred to a PO box they set up for court correspondence. He said they sent them all back without opening them.”
“So how in the hell did Julian find you?” Hudson asks.
Mila shakes her head. “I have no idea. I mean, he would have learned about my last name from the letter my parents sent, I suppose. I have no idea when he moved here or how he found me once he did. I also don’t know where he’s been for the past several months.”
“I kind of liked it better when he was a crazy, delusional stalker,” Evelyn says. “I hate that this is so personal. I hate that he’s making you go through all of this.”
“Yeah, me too,” Palmer says.
Corey nods.
Mila pulls in a deep breath and holds it. “In case anyone is interested in the rest of my life story, I can eat an entire whipped cream pie in under ninety seconds, and have an unhealthy fear of zombies and tight spaces. I’m also terrible at chess, despite playing several hundred games, and I’ve tried to beat a few hundred world records.”
Evelyn smiles. “I bet it’s close to a thousand world records.”
“And you haven’t beat one?” Palmer asks.
“Technically, we beat one, but you have to do it a second time and have someone come out to witness it,” Evelyn explains.
The conversation eases into jokes and stories. Occasionally, silence hangs a little too long, but everyone except for Abe works to fill them.
Regardless of Mila’s strength and persistence, something else is bothering her. I can sense it in the way her gaze passes too quickly over mine, and she remains out of arm’s reach as we collectively help clean up the kitchen. She’s trying to create distance, and I have no idea what to do about it.
“I see why you like her so much,” Mom says hours later as I hug her goodbye.
The rest of the guys are already in their cars, getting ready to part ways for the night. Corey offered to take Mila’s car.
Mom folds her arms. “This will pass. I’ll talk to my friend at work. Her husband’s a cop. Maybe they can tell us something we don’t know.”
“Anything’s better than the advice she got today.”
Mom nods. “Drive safe, Grey. And watch your back.”
“I always do.”
She hugs me a final time. “Love you.”
I make my way to my truck where Mila’s waiting in the passenger seat.
“How are you?”
She turns to look at me, and slowly releases a sigh. “I’m okay.”
“It’s okay to tell me you’re not.”
“I’m going to be okay, but I’m feeling overwhelmed. I just need a little time to process.”
I nod and put the truck in gear. The moment I move forward, the team moves with us, like a formation on the field, keeping us in the middle as we drive back to campus.
When we make it up to my dorm, whatever is bothering Mila becomes more noticeable as she maintains a gap between us. “Do you mind if I shower?”
“You never have to ask.”
She nods without looking at me and heads to my bedroom where she gathers her things that are still tucked away every day. I wait until the shower turns on, then head to the bedroom to plug in my cell phone and pack my duffel bag for tomorrow. Mila’s still not out when I finish, so I move onto homework, though it’s the last thing I want to do.
I finish nearly all my homework before Mila appears, wearing sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, her hair blown dry. She puts her things away and then stands at the end of the bed, hands clasped in front of her, drawing that restlessness feeling to the forefront of my thoughts.
“I think we should talk about our options.” Her voice is soft and deceivingly diplomatic.
I close the heavy textbook for my finance reporting class and drop it to the floor, giving her my full attention. “What options exactly are you referring to?”
“What if Julian sees us? Sees you?”
I shake my head. “Who cares if he sees me.”
“What if he tries to hurt you to hurt me?” She takes a step back that I protest by taking a larger step forward.
“Together,” I tell her. “Remember? This means the good and the bad. We don’t get to pick and choose. He wants you to feel isolated, but fuck that and fuck him.”
“I want you to be safe.”
I grin humorlessly, refusing to admit just how badly I’ve been hoping Julian approaches me, how I’ve already imagined him stepping onto campus, trespassing, and giving me the proverbial green light to defend myself. Each strike would be payback for every moment of peace he stole from Mila.
“Like you, I only go a few places. The gym, practice, class, and here.”
“What about the track? Maybe we should stop going?”
“We could run at the facility.”
Hope and approval greet my offer. “Really? Are you sure?”
“If it makes you feel safer, absolutely.”
She nods.
“Then it’s done.”
Mila blinks. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” I reach forward, tracing my thumb along her bottom lip in an attempt to make her stop biting the spot that reveals she’s nervous. She does, her warring emotions visible in her silver-blue eyes.
“We’ll be careful. We’ll continue changing our routine and reporting anything that happens. You’re safe here.”
“I never would have been able to outrun him today if you hadn’t made me do so much cardio.”
“You did such a good job, Mila.” I shake my head. “I don’t think I told you this yet, but I am so damn proud of you. Running away was the right move, and you are so fucking strong and fast he didn’t stand a chance. And we’re going to continue training and we’re going to make him leave you alone.”
She maintains my stare for a lone second. “But what next? Now that he knows I can outrun him, he won’t try and chase me again.”
“I think Jon’s right.” He called again while dinner was cooking, and said his lawyer would be drawing up charges, but they felt confident Julian would leave after his plans were so badly foiled. “If he’s bitter about prison, he won’t want to go back.”
“That didn’t stop him from trying to kidnap me today,” she points out.
“He won’t. We’ll keep you safe.”
“We should get some sleep. It’s late.”
I nod. “Get tucked in. I’m going to brush my teeth.”
When I return, Mila’s reading a book on her phone.
“How are you doing?” I ask, stretching out beside her.
“I’m okay.”
“How are you really doing?”
She sets her book down and looks at me.
I would give my right hand to hear her thoughts right now. “What would Briggs say right now?”
“He’d probably ask how my inner child is feeling?”
“How is your inner child feeling?”
“I’ve replayed the day that Mal died so many times in my head—hundreds, thousands of times. I always think how it could have gone differently if we had waited, or the couch had been at a different angle, or I had been holding on to her, so many things could have changed the outcome. I’ve been blaming myself for so long, and it took this guy blaming me today to realize it wasn’t my fault. He didn’t push her out the window, but it was his fault and our mom’s that she was so desperate she was willing to try and climb out that damn window.”
She goes silent as her hand tangles in my shirt.
“And I hate that I’ve carried it with me this long almost as much as I hate that he was the one to ease this mountain of guilt I’ve been carrying for so damn long.”