29. Milo

TWENTY-NINE

MILO

FIVE YEARS AGO

Milo pressed a soft kiss to his daughter’s temple, the little child long asleep within the darkness of the small room. He brushed back the wild locks of her brown hair and stared at her precious face where she rested.

His spirit flailed.

He would do whatever it took to provide for his family.

He would fix this.

Make it right.

“Goodnight, my sweet Remy,” he murmured below his breath before he stood and walked out into the cramped living space of the trailer.

Autumn was asleep on their makeshift bed, their son asleep in the playpen they used as a crib.

God, they were beautiful.

A treasure he didn’t deserve.

Every molecule in his body clutched.

You’re pathetic. Worthless. You’ll never amount to anything, just like your mother. I should do the world a favor and put a bullet in both your brains.

Milo eased over to Autumn, ran his fingers through her hair, and swept his lips over her cheek.

She hummed in her sleep, and before he woke her, he pushed to standing and moved to the door. He carefully clicked it open.

He felt the shuffling from behind.

“Where are you going?” Autumn’s voice hit him in confusion.

Chaos and perfection.

Warily, he turned to look back at her from over his shoulder, his eyes taking her in where she’d pushed up to sitting.

“I have to run an errand.”

She frowned. “Where? It’s late.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Worry traipsed through her features, though she forced a trusting smile. “Okay…just hurry and come back to me.”

He nodded, then he slipped out into the night.

Twenty minutes later, he was standing in front of Autumn’s parents’ door.

He struggled and warred, searching himself for strength.

For a way to swallow his pride. To take back his promise.

He gulped around the disgust because what he felt didn’t matter. It held no bearing on what he had to do. He reached out and pressed the doorbell.

It seemed like an eternity passed before a light flicked on downstairs.

He could almost feel the animosity burn through the peephole from someone glaring at him from inside, and he sucked in a steeling breath when the metal slid and the latch gave.

Autumn’s mother barely cracked open the door, hatred in her eyes as she peered out. “Is my daughter safe?”

“Yes,” he wheezed.

She was safe. But she was none of the other things he’d promised she would be.

“What do you want, then?”

Bile lifted in his stomach and coated his tongue. Swallowing it down, he lifted his chin. “A loan.”

Her laugh was incredulous. “You’re standing here asking me for a loan?”

He could barely make himself nod. “I am.”

Paula scoffed and widened the door enough so that she could angle toward him. “Why would I ever give you anything when you stole everything from me?”

Old hatred flared. Vibrated through his being. Boiled hot in his blood.

Paula could have easily been a part of their family. Could have been a part of her grandchildren’s lives. She just chose not to. She had all but written Autumn off for loving him.

He refused the spite, the intense urge to lash out.

Fight.

He wasn’t that man anymore. He refused to be. Wouldn’t give into the depravity.

“I know you hate me, Paula, but I really need help finishing our cabin. I’m trying to give your daughter and grandchildren a good home. But after the investment in the business, I’m coming up short. We have some big jobs in the works. Things will come together, and I’ll be able to pay you back quickly.”

He prayed sooner rather than later, but he was worried that wasn’t going to be the case. He’d invested everything in the construction company. Running a business and profiting from it was a whole ton harder than he’d ever imagined.

But he would make it work.

He just needed more time.

“I just need the money now so I can finish our cabin.”

At least he’d already gotten his mother’s place finished, and he was more than halfway done with their cabin, but the time and cost investment were greater since it was more than double the size of hers.

Maybe he should have waited until he’d been completely finished with both places to try to start the company, but Autumn had pushed him, telling him it was time, that they needed to make a change and have a steady income coming in before the money he’d saved from fighting ran dry.

He understood.

He wanted that safety net, too.

He wanted to provide.

To do right by his family.

And there he stood like a pathetic beggar, groveling at Paula’s feet.

She angled back. “Did you know my daughter called here crying the other day?”

Milo blanched. What? He gritted his teeth to keep himself from demanding to know why. He needn’t worry because Paula was dead set on throwing it in his face, anyway.

“It seems she’s realized just how miserable life is going to be with you.”

His head shook.

“Do you really think she wants to raise two children in a trailer, Milo?”

“Our place is nearly finished.”

“But it’s not, is it? And you can bet your life I won’t be helping you do it, either. I want my daughter home, where she belongs, not depressed and sleeping on your couch. She’s worth so much more than the life you’re giving her. My grandchildren are worth more. You will never give them what they need. If you love them at all, you’d walk away.”

He breathed out the shock and pain, a low, horrified laugh leaving his mouth that he turned toward the ground, trying to gather himself.

His thoughts.

His strength.

To make a rebound on this desperation because he knew what Paula was spewing had nothing to do with the quality of life Autumn and their children had.

It was about him.

Paula wanted him gone.

“Now, get off my property. You will never be welcome here, but my daughter and grandchildren will always be. Autumn will return, just as soon as she comes to her senses and finally sees who you truly are.”

“Paula—”

She slammed the door in his face.

Desperation streaked through his spirit, and he started to rush forward, to pound on the door and demand she listen. But it wasn’t going to change a damned thing.

She would never see him as anything but scum.

He turned and headed back to his truck, climbed inside, and took off down their long drive.

He was barely able to see through the haze of loathing.

For Paula.

For his father.

For himself.

He struggled to see through the disorder. To find a reason. A way.

His teeth gritted, and the blood sloshed through his veins, and he jerked to a stop on the side of the road.

He picked up his phone, stared at it as the voices whirled through his mind.

The hunger.

The hate.

The thirst for destruction.

Gore.

He squeezed the phone as hard as he squeezed his eyes closed, his throat clotting off.

Before he lost his nerve, he thumbed into the phone and made the call.

He pressed it to his ear, close to panicking as it rang.

But he had no other choice.

No way to be the man he’d promised Autumn he would be.

The dark voice answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Stefan.” Milo needed only to say his name for Stefan to recognize him.

A beat passed before Stefan blew out in surprise. “You are finally ready to return?”

“I told you I’m finished with that life. I just need one fight.”

Hurt curled through Stefan’s voice. “So, you only call me when you want something? This is how you treat me after everything I’ve done for you? What does that say about you, Milo?”

Desperation clawed at him. “I just need one job, Stefan.”

Enough to see him through.

“You know it doesn’t work like that. You’re in or out. And you should know the stakes are much higher than they used to be.”

Apprehension billowed through his spirit. He gulped it down. “I’m in.”