Savoring Mila (Angels Halo MC Next Gen & Rockers' Legacy Book 3)

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Savoring Mila (Angels Halo MC Next Gen & Rockers' Legacy Book 3) Page 5

by Terri Anne Browning


  “Motherfuck!” I half yelled, half whispered as I picked up the foil packet.

  We’d been so lost in the moment, neither of us had thought about protection. That never happened. I always gloved up. Always. I’d never been so desperate to be inside a girl that I didn’t protect us both.

  But apparently, there was a first time for everything.

  Scrubbing my free hand over my face, I searched for my phone. I needed to call her, make sure she was okay. And warn her. I was clean; there was nothing for her to worry about when it came to that, but…

  What if I’d gotten her pregnant?

  That question filtered through my mind as I finally found my phone, and I was surprised it didn’t make me break out in a cold sweat. Yeah, I was freaking out a little, but not because the idea of Mila having my baby scared me. I wouldn’t say I was a hundred percent ready to be a father, but I wouldn’t be upset if she did get pregnant.

  Snatching up the phone, I unlocked it and pulled up my contacts.

  Only to realize I didn’t have her fucking number.

  She was gone, and I had no way of contacting her. A feeling of complete helplessness pressed down on my chest, and I sucked in a deep breath.

  A pained, rage-filled roar left me, and I fell to my knees.

  Chapter 8

  Mila

  I shifted on the church pew and bit back a whimper when even that slight movement caused me discomfort. Mom caught me grimacing and lifted a questioning brow at me.

  I quickly looked away, pretending I didn’t see her gray eyes filling with understanding. She was my mother, for fuck’s sake—of course, she knew why I’d come through the front door of the Vitucci mansion at seven that morning. My hair was wild from only finger-combing the tangles out of it, and my clothes were so wrinkled there was no way she could come to any other conclusion but that I was taking the walk of shame.

  Thankfully, it was just her, Aunt Raven, and Aunt Flick who saw me, and not my dad or uncles. Dad would have blown a gasket, and I wasn’t clearheaded enough to work my way out of that kind of trouble with him.

  “Take a shower, Mila,” Mom had said with a shake of her head. “And maybe take a nap. I don’t need you falling asleep during the ceremony and your dad asking questions I’ll have to lie to answer so he doesn’t ruin Tavia’s wedding.”

  I’d gone up to the room I was supposed to be sharing with Monroe. She was lying in bed with the covers pulled up over her head, and I figured she was sleeping. Grabbing a change of underwear, I walked into the connecting bathroom and took a long shower.

  As the smell of Lyric on my skin was washed down the drain, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. All evening, I’d continued to tell myself it was just for one night. But now that it was over, I knew I’d only been lying to myself. I missed him already.

  The priest was saying a blessing over Tavia and Theo now, but I could practically hear the wheels turning in Mom’s head. I’d been walking stiffly since she’d seen me again when we were leaving for the church. Stiffly—what a laugh. I was walking like an old woman with a broken hip who’d spent the night being bucked around by a gigantic stallion.

  Which was basically the same thing I’d done with Lyric, minus the broken hip, but I sure as hell was walking like I had.

  Finally, Theo and Tavia were declared husband and wife, and while everyone was cheering, Mom leaned close to whisper in my ear. “Was it at least good?”

  “Mom!” I grumbled, glancing at Dad. But his attention wasn’t on us. It was on Monroe, who looked like she was about to start sobbing at any second.

  Forgetting about my aching body, I focused on my sister. “She’s just really happy for Tavia, Dad,” I told him, pushing a tissue into Monroe’s hands and hugging my sister to my chest. “Get it together. He’s going to start slitting throats if you cry.”

  I felt her shudder, then nod before sucking in a deep breath. “I’m good,” she promised, and she turned with a weak smile for Dad. “She looks so beautiful, doesn’t she? And they’re so in l-love.” When her voice broke, Dad’s eyes grew wild. Didn’t matter if Monroe or I cried because we were happy or sad. Our tears brought out a side of Dad that had most people trembling in fear. “It was such a beautiful ceremony.”

  Her answer didn’t appease Dad in the least, but he didn’t call her out on it. Instead, he only watched her closer as we left the church and went to the reception. But we wouldn’t be able to stay long.

  The Vitucci jet was taking us all home that evening so Aunt Raven would be there in case Lexa went into labor. Everyone but Garret and Nova, who would be spending the summer with their New York family, was already packed and our cases in the SUVs that had picked us up from the airport the day before.

  I sat at a table with Maverick, River, and Monroe. We’d all gotten plates of food from the mile-long buffet table that was set out with enough Italian food to feed an entire country, but Monroe only picked at her meal with her fork, not even pretending to taste it.

  “I’ve made up my mind,” Monroe spoke up out of the blue. Pushing her still-full plate away, she looked from me to our brother and back again. “I decided which college I’m going to.”

  I felt my stomach bottom out, and I quickly pushed away my own plate of food, knowing I wasn’t going to like what she was going to say. I knew this was because of whatever happened with the stalker guy, and I wanted to nut-punch him so damn bad at that moment.

  “Fuck,” Mav muttered, and River touched his arm, trying to reassure him.

  “I’m sorry, guys, but I think—”

  “You will not sit there and act like the world owes you something, princess.” Aunt Raven’s voice filled the entire room. Considering the place had a potential capacity of over two thousand, her angry tone had all us kids turning to see who was getting the wrath of our queen.

  She stood behind the table where Tavia and Theo were seated. His best man, Ryan, was sitting with Nova on one side, while Sofia sat on the other side of Tavia. My honorary cousin sat there, her fork poised in midair, her hurt-filled dark eyes filling rapidly with tears as she looked at Sofia.

  Theo was practically shaking, he was so pissed, but what had everyone at my table gulping and instinctively moving closer to each other was the absolute rage that was pouring off Aunt Raven and filling the entire building. Suddenly, every eye was on her and the defiant, almost petulant expression on Sofia’s face.

  I felt more than saw Dad and all my uncles moving closer to Aunt Raven, always ready to defend their queen, even if it was from a spoiled little bitch like Sofia Volkov. Not that Aunt Raven needed protection. The woman was the ultimate badass in my eyes. She could and would have snapped Sofia’s pretty little neck in a heartbeat if she’d truly wanted to.

  Luckily for Sofia, she didn’t. But I would have been all too happy to help my aunt get rid of her body if she changed her mind.

  “This is none of your business, lady,” Sofia snipped, not seeming to understand that she was an inch away from death.

  “You just made it my business, sweetheart,” Aunt Raven snarled at her. Bending, she got in Sofia’s face. “You think I’m blind? That I haven’t seen you trying to make everything all about you? The last two days, you have done nothing but complain and insult Tavia. But I’ve had enough, little girl. You just crossed a line you can’t come back from, and I’m about to teach you a few hard lessons, you whiny little bitch.”

  “Excuse you.” A new voice joined the conversation. “You will not speak to my daughter like that. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  “Oh shit,” Maverick muttered, half in awe that someone would dare talk to our aunt like that, half in glee at the potential of a fight. “It’s about to go down.”

  Her every move slow and measured, Aunt Raven straightened and turned to face Theo and Sofia’s mother, Victoria Volkov. The beautiful redhead stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed. A dangerous vibe rolled off her, but she had nothing on the blonde in front of her.

&nb
sp; “I’m the one who understands that Tavia’s special day has been overshadowed by your little princess here. You gush and you coo and say Tavia is just like a daughter to you. You have her call you ‘Mom’ and pretend like you are this amazing mother who takes care of all of your babies. But you are just as much at fault for the tears in Tavia’s eyes right now as your spoiled daughter,” Aunt Raven snapped at her. “You let her do whatever she wants—fuck anyone else and their feelings. You are supposed to be protecting Tavia, yet all you do is let this little bitch walk all over her and anyone else who gets in her way. She’s so spoiled, she has done nothing but sulk and pout and whine because no one is paying the least bit of attention to her. All eyes are on Tavia, and she’s practically green with jealousy because she can’t stand it.”

  Victoria’s mouth opened, then closed. Her face tensed, and she glanced from Sofia to the tears running down Tavia’s face. The bride quickly looked away, angrily dashing at her tears. Turning her gaze back on Sofia, her mother demanded, “What did you do?”

  “What hasn’t she done?” Aunt Raven half yelled before changing her voice to make it annoyingly high and whiny in what was the perfect imitation of Sofia, in my opinion. “Poor, pitiful me. No one is paying me any attention. Tavia is being gushed over because she’s so beautiful in her wedding dress. Better insult her. Tell her the dress isn’t good enough, but in a backhanded way so no one will understand I’m actually insulting her. Tavia is leaving for Italy for her honeymoon. Better remind her I was supposed to be in Paris with my friends this week but couldn’t go because I just had to be her maid of honor.” Aunt Raven was seething now. “Because according to your daughter, she’s Tavia’s only friend, and no one else would even think about taking time out of their lives to attend such a boring wedding.”

  “She would never treat Tavia like that,” Victoria defended, but her voice lacked conviction.

  “You calling me a liar?” Aunt Raven took a step closer to the redhead, and everyone tensed, knowing there was about to be bloodshed.

  “Settle down, both of you,” a calm, slightly accented voice commanded. Anya Vitucci wasn’t just small, curvy, and gorgeous. She also carried an aura of danger around her that screamed she was in charge without her ever having to open her mouth.

  “Are you just going to let her talk about your niece like that?” Victoria demanded.

  Anya glanced down at Sofia, then to where Theo was mopping up Tavia’s tears with a napkin. Releasing a heavy exhale, Anya shrugged. “Yes, I am definitely going to let her say all she wants about Sofia. Because she’s right. The last few weeks as we’ve planned for this wedding, I’ve started seeing a side of Sofia that, quite frankly, makes her look ugly. And I’ve watched you allow it to happen time and time again.”

  “I don’t,” Victoria denied, then bit her lip. “Do I?”

  “We both do,” her husband spoke up, and Adrian Volkov put his hand on his wife’s back. “We’ve let her grow wild, kotyonok. We have spoiled her, and that’s not a bad thing. But she has become entitled, thinking the world owes her something. We’ve never made her take responsibility. She’s never had to work for anything, and now she’s becoming someone I’ve found I can barely tolerate at times.” He looked down at his daughter, anger and disappointment glittering in his eyes. “I love you more than life, Sofia. You have been one of my greatest joys, and I will love and protect you until my last breath. But as of right now, you will learn that the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

  Her bottom lip pouted out. “Daddy—”

  “No,” he boomed, cutting her off. Her mouth snapped shut, but she crossed her arms over her chest and slouched down in her chair, acting just like the spoiled little girl she was. Adrian turned to his son and new daughter-in-law. “Tavia, I sincerely apologize for allowing Sofia to ruin your day. I know an apology doesn’t make up for anything, but know that I will never allow her to speak to you the way she has ever again.”

  Theo stroked his hand over Tavia’s hair, quietly speaking to her so no one else could hear. But Tavia lifted her head and then stood. Giving her father-in-law a small, trembling smile, she cleared her throat. “I need a thicker skin when it comes to Sofia,” she said to try to excuse.

  “No, sweetheart,” Victoria told her, her shoulders drooping. “She is being a catty little bitch. I’m so sorry, Tavia.”

  “I have a solution.” My aunt spoke up again, her anger not having lessened in the least. “Neither of you seems to be able to handle the girl. Let me have her for the summer. I’ll put her to work, teach her some responsibility and much-needed manners, and send her back to you when it’s time for Nova and Garret to return home.”

  “What?” Sofia shrieked. “No way. I’m not going to some backwater hellhole where everyone is inbred.”

  Oh, the bitch was going to get it for sure now. I scooted back my chair, getting to my feet at the same time River did. Aunt Raven shot us both a look that had us pausing, however. A look that told us to not take another step or Sofia wouldn’t be the only one facing her wrath.

  For half a second, I debated defying her, but common sense prevailed. Thankfully.

  “Sofia!” Anya’s voice lashed across her niece, making her face pale, and she flinched back from her aunt. But she only cowed for a moment before she stiffened her spine and met Anya’s gaze head on. She had balls, I would give her that. But apparently Sofia was an idiot as well as a royal bitch. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Anya had once been an assassin—and quite possibly still was. “You will apologize. Now.”

  “No! I’m not going anywhere with these hick bikers, and you can’t make me.”

  All it took was for Anya to move closer to the girl, and Sofia was suddenly lowering her gaze, her lips sealing closed, but she stood there pouting nonetheless.

  “Raven,” Victoria said, her entire body vibrating with anger, but it was no longer directed at my aunt. “I would be very grateful if you would take my ungrateful child home with you for the summer. Put her to work.”

  “Mom!” Sofia cried. “You can’t do this.”

  “She will spend the summer living on what she earns. No credit cards. No allowance,” her mom continued. “And you may handle her however you deem necessary.”

  “That’s insane,” Sofia argued, angry tears filling her eyes. “You can’t possibly think I will put up with this.”

  “We can, and you will,” Adrian told her.

  “No!” she screamed. “I won’t. You can’t make me.”

  “Watch us,” Victoria gritted out, seething now. “I suggest you go home, change, and pack a bag. Because you will be on that plane with them tonight. You will listen to everything Raven tells you, and you will. Be. Respectful. Because if you don’t—” She broke off, seemingly unable to finish the threat.

  “If you don’t…” Her husband picked up where she couldn’t. “You will be completely cut off.”

  “Just because I was snippy with Tavia?”

  “Because you’re an ungrateful, entitled little brat,” Victoria countered. “I’ve overlooked so much bad behavior, Sofia. Mostly because I was no angel myself at your age. But your actions lately show me you have turned into a selfish, unfeeling stranger. I don’t recognize the person you’ve become, and I can only blame myself for allowing it.”

  While they continued to argue, I sat back down at the table with my siblings and River.

  “Well,” River muttered unhappily as she picked up her water glass, no doubt wishing it were something a hell of a lot stronger. I knew I sure as fuck was. I left Lyric’s bed for this shitshow? I could have been cuddled up beside him at that moment, warm and content, and savoring every second just being with him until I had to get on the Vitucci jet. “This should be a fun summer with her royal highness running around town.”

  Ah hell. There wasn’t enough Spirytus in the world to prepare me for a summer with Sofia Volkov.

  Chapter 9

  Mila

  If I thought the blowup with Sofia was a
reprieve from Monroe declaring which college she’d chosen, it was short-lived. No sooner were we home than she announced to us all that she wanted to go to college in New Jersey.

  The day my sister got her acceptance letter from Princeton, Dad had been so proud, he’d strutted around as if he were the one who’d accomplished being accepted into such a prestigious university. But then he realized it was very possible Monroe would actually want to go, and he’d been a bear with a sore paw for days until she’d received other acceptance letters from high-profile schools closer to home.

  As soon as the words were out of Monroe’s mouth, Dad exploded and took off for Hannigans’. Monroe spent the night crying in her room, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure it was because of Dad’s reaction to her finally choosing a school. The need to junk-punch her stalker/boyfriend, or whatever the hell he was to her, only doubled.

  Over breakfast the next morning, however, Dad asked for a compromise. He looked hungover, but his eyes were swollen, and for the first time in my life, I wondered if he’d been crying. The thought that sweet little Monroe had brought the Angel’s Halo MC enforcer to tears just because she wanted to live on the other side of the country for a good portion of the year was ludicrous. Yet, the evidence was right in front of my eyes.

  Mom was the one who suggested the compromise. Monroe would go to Trinity, and Mom and Dad would pay for her to go to Italy for the summer. It was something my sister had been asking to do for years, starting around the same time she’d started wearing the necklace.

  It wasn’t like my family was hurting for money. Dad’s shop made bank because he was the only artist in the county, and he was damn good at what he did. But Mom had her own money. When her father, who’d been president of a Vegas MC back in the day, died along with his oldest daughter—who was Lexa’s biological mother—he’d left everything to Mom and Lexa.

  Apparently he was loaded because my siblings and I each had a comfortable trust fund waiting for us when we either got married or turned twenty-five. Mom never touched the money in her own savings account, but she was going to dip into it to send Monroe on a first-class trip to Italy.

 

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