In my first few days there, I operated in a constant state of anger. Every brush of an arm as I walked through the crowded hallways, put me on edge. As I looked out at the masses of people, I saw every stranger I passed as a potential threat. All I’d known up to that point in my life was that I could trust no one.
The day I first saw her, Mila had been walking toward me, clutching her books to her chest. Three guys that looked close to my age, walked behind her, pushing into her with their bodies as they taunted her. Her face, that day, looked much like it did now.
I hadn’t known her name then, but I recognized the fear in her eyes. I’d gotten between her and the three guys.
“Leave her the fuck alone,” I remembered seething. I was twice their size and wasn’t surprised that they turned and hurried away.
I hadn’t seen the girl again who had murmured her thanks and scurried away from me like the guys had. That I was an intimidating fucker wasn’t lost on me then or now.
I’d only lived with that foster family another four months, and in that time, I’d looked for her every day.
I hadn’t seen her again until I looked into her eyes as she approached me the day I picked her and the asshole Adler up at the airport. I’d immediately recognized the girl I’d seen only one other time in my life yet had never forgotten.
I looked over at her, and she was studying me instead of the books.
“I remember every detail,” I told her.
“I asked around that day, and no one knew your name,” she said. “My mom worked in the office and looked it up. I think that’s why I felt so comfortable around you from the moment I met you. Because it wasn’t the first time I met you.”
I walked over to where she stood and took her hands in mine. “What set you off before, Mila?”
“Marshall.”
“What about him?”
“The man who attacked me. His name was Marshall.”
Every alarm, every red flag, every instinct began screaming at me. If Mila weren’t standing in front of me with her hands in mine, I would’ve raced into the office to run a full report on Marshall Livingston.
“Decker?” I heard Rile say.
“Go ahead,” Mila told me.
Rile motioned me into the office. The report I would’ve asked him to start compiling was waiting for me on the desk.
“Give me the short version.”
“There’s a connection between Judd Knight and Marshall Livingston.”
“What?”
“Business adversaries.”
I nodded.
“If there’s nothing else you need tonight, we’ll leave you alone.”
“The main house is accessible,” I said, turning to Edge. “You know how the system works.”
Edge nodded.
Grinder motioned his head in the direction of the living room, and I turned to see Mila walking toward the kitchen. “Take care of her,” he said before following Rile and Edge out of the house. “Let us take care of everything else.”
“What can I get you?” I asked once the men had left.
“What are you having?” Her eyes never met mine; they darted around, not focusing on anything in particular.
“Mila?”