*Disclaimer: This chapter has some scenes of violence and assault, if you aren't comfortable reading, please stop at the asterisks.

Just who the hell did that arrogant, big-headed, cheating scumbag think he was to talk to me like that? Every word he spat at me was imprinted into my mind, and every time I thought about it, my blood boiled. I was so mad that despite walking outside in the cold at almost ten-pm at night, my skin felt like it was on fire.

I stopped at the diner which was just beside the motel but made a U-turn when I realized that it was still too close to Mitchell, so I left and walked for around ten minutes to the pub across the road.

The night was dark with not a star visible because of the heavy cloud cover and the air was cold and smelt like wet earth and rain. The parking lot was pretty much empty with only a few vehicles scattered around. There was a neon light flashing just above the entrance when I entered.

Inside the pub was a lot warmer than outside and like the motel, it was also dominated by a wooden interior. There was a bar setup just as you entered and further in were tables scattered with barstools all entertained by the jukebox playing some country song. The smell of alcohol and tobacco welcomed me as I made my way to the bar, glad that it wasn't very busy.

I took a seat at the stool and was greeted by the bartender in maybe his late thirties, he looked polite and had a bald patch.

"Evening Miss, what can I get ya?" He politely asked.

I looked at the many drinks hanging upside down on the wall in front of me, next to a beer tap. The thought of alcohol didn't digest well, I had too much the previous night. So, I opted for something simple.

"Can I get a plain lemonade?" I asked.

"Sure thing." He said and walked off.

I rested my elbows on the bar counter and rubbed my palms over my face, sighing. The day started alright, but it sure ended awfully.

The bartender brought my drink in no time and I mindlessly played with the little umbrella which hung on the side of the glass. Was I really so awful to be around? It wasn't the first time someone said that to me, and it surely wasn't the first time Mitchell said it.

I knew I was a little loud, bold, and eccentric and I understood that not everyone liked that. I wondered if I should simmer down and be more... normal. Maybe then people wouldn't be so harsh with their words towards me, it was so easy for the closest people even to say 'stop being Mila' and I normally brushed it off but they hadn't a clue how deep that one little line could cut. I mean how does one stop going about being themselves? I think it's pretty damn cruel to ask someone to stop being who they were.

Maybe I needed to be a little quieter – more like Faith and Olivia. But I knew that if I suddenly stopped being cheery and loud, I'd sink into a very dark hole and I wasn't sure if I would ever come out of that space. The way I acted and spoke was my coping mechanism to deal with the crap that life threw my way, it blocked out the demons which lived in my mind and heart. Laughter was my savior from allowing sadness to consume me.

But it seemed in an attempt to save me, I was taking down the people around me. I couldn't be that selfish, could I? Maybe the best option was to just isolate me for a while, be by myself and give everyone around me a break from Mila.

I sighed and massaged my temples; my thoughts were starting to consume me again and I hated when that happened. I needed to stop overthinking and remember that Mitchell was no one but the asshole friend of Faith's boyfriend, what he thought of me didn't matter. What happened wasn't my fault, only someone hiding something would act out the way he did, this time I was innocent.

I looked at my drink, somehow finding the condensation dripping down the glass entertaining before I lifted the glass and toasted to myself, "Happy birthday Mila."

I took a sip of the sweet-sour drink and left the glass on the bar again. I was missing home and the people I was close to over there. More so I missed my mom, she would always make me feel better when I felt so down. She always told me, sadness is a part of life but if there was one day I shouldn't be sad, it was my birthday because that was the day she was gifted with her biggest blessing, I owed it to her to be happy. She would always smile and tease me saying that after twelve hours of contractions and labor, I owed her that. I felt a lump building in my throat and my heart start to get heavy – if only she knew that no matter how much I tried; I haven't been truly happy on my birthday in years.

I composed myself and decided to stop feeling sorry for myself, I needed to get a hold on my emotions and not let my guard down, I was the most dangerous person to let it down to.

If there was one person who'd cheer me up, she was just a call away so reaching for my phone in my romper pocket, I pulled it out and dialed her up.

"Carmen." I grinned as soon as she picked up.

"Hello Mila, its Julie not Carmen." Julie, the woman Carmen lived with answered instead.

"Hey Julie, is Carmen around? I'd like to talk to her." I said.

"I'm sorry Mila. I tried to get her to call you but today was one of those days she wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone or even leave her room." Julie very apologetically said.

I knew those days, Carmen had days where she would be angry or sad and wouldn't want anyone in her space. It was in her best interest to just leave her be until she came out of that shell.

"No, I understand Julie. I was just missing her so thought I'd call to check in." I said, trying my best to hide my disappointment.

"I'm so sorry Mila, I know today is your birthday too. I tried my best but..." Julie trailed off and I knew what he meant.

"No, please don't apologize Julie." I took in a breath before I added, "Just tell I miss her so much and I'll be seeing her very soon."

"I will do that." Julie said.

"Thanks." I said and was about to hang up, but Julie stopped me.

"Mila," she called, "Happy birthday honey, I hope your day was no short of lovely."

"Thanks." I muttered before I hung up.

There was something about special occasions, especially birthdays which always made me reflect on my life and maybe that is why I hated them. Sitting by myself in a rusty pub just made me realize how alone I was in this world. Faith, who was the closest person to me in the last seven years was living her life with the man of her dreams. Carmen who I've known my whole life was going through her life obstacles. My dad, well he didn't even make the cut to be part of the list of people in my life, it was almost ten-pm and he still hadn't even texted me let alone call to wish me for my birthday.

I had my grandparents, but they were old and enjoying their retirement, I never burdened them with my woes – in front of them I always wore a smile and made them believe I was happy. I had Wang but as fun, as he was to talk to and hang out with, I never got as close to him as I was with Faith.

As for my mom, well that was a whole other issue. I always had her, but it was a lot more complicated than just that. It was official and I realized it at that moment that I had no one to call my own, no one who cared enough to ask me how I really was, or for me to confide in and feel safe with. It was a scary and dark place to be alone but at least it made me strong despite how sore it made my heart at times.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself Mila." I scolded myself under my breath.

I needed to control my emotions, I needed to take back control of my mind and not let the bitterness consume me. I would not allow stupid Bitchell Clarke to get the better of me, I was not that weak to let a silly boy's words get into my head. No, I was Mila Bandera and I was unapologetically me – now I just needed to chant it in my head like a mantra.

I took a good few sips on my drink, hoping the sourness from the lemon would dissolve the bitterness in my mind. And to an extent it did, I thought happy thoughts – about the times I was little and always had a gathering with my aunt, uncle, grandparents, and mom on my birthday. The last that happened was when I turned nine, it was a long time ago, but those happy memories always stayed with me.

My reminiscing was put to a halt when the barstool next to mine was dragged out and on it sat a man who smelt strong of cigarettes mixed with some awful smelling cologne.

"I'll have a beer and keep them coming whenever you see my glass emptying." He told the bartender.

He was sitting a little too close for comfort and when I glanced at him, I got the impression that he was already a little drunk. He looked to be in his late twenties, he seemed tall and had broad shoulders. His hair was a short buzz cut and he had a beard that looked terribly unkempt. He wore a black t-shirt with blue jeans.

He grinned at me crookedly and half waved, "Hey there."

I ignored him and stood up, to sit a few barstools away from him. I was probably overthinking it, but I didn't get a good vibe from him.

"Ah!" He said taking a large sip of his beer, "Just what the doctor ordered."

I turned my back to him and decided to ignore him, I didn't want to send off any wrong signals. I silently sat and sipped my lemonade, wondering how and when I would go back to the room. If the place wasn't fully booked, I would've gotten my own room because I did not want to face Mitchell for the remainder of the night.

My drink was almost done when the bartender slid a pink cocktail in front of me. I frowned and looked at him questioningly.

"I didn't order this." I told him.

He gestured to the man sitting a few stools from me with his eyes, "He did."

I looked at the man who was grinning at me, I looked back to the bartender and slid the drink back to him.

"I don't drink alcohol." I lied.

'I despise lies.' Mitchell's voice rang at the back of my mind. Well, this was one of the times a lie came in handy, there was no way I was going to accept a drink from a stranger who was staring at me with a creepy grin.

I could feel the man's gaze burning at the back of my head and I was now feeling uncomfortable, I didn't want to leave but I figured sitting in silence in a room with Mitchell beat being alone at a bar with a creepy dude who looked at me like a starving predator.

I took one last sip of my drink, left a fifty-dollar bill on the table, and stood up to leave. I did not want to be there a minute longer, my gut told me to leave.

When I stepped out of the pub, the chilly wind blew my hair backward and the cold finally hit me, goosebumps erupted on my arms and I wished I grabbed a jacket before I stormed out of the motel.

As I walked out of the door, my pocket began to vibrate when my phone rang. I stopped walking to see how was calling. When my eyes met the name that was on the screen, my heart froze, and I wasn't sure if I was happy or upset.

Regardless, I picked up.

"Hello." I greeted.

"Mila." He greeted back.

I took in a deep breath; I was honestly surprised by his call.

"Dad." I said, the conversation barely began but it was already so awkward.

"How are you Mila?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes, I hated small talk and that's how all our calls went.

"Great thank you." I replied.

"I called to say happy birthday, I hope you had a wonderful day." He said.

I took in a breath as I recalled the eventful day I had, I wished I could tell him that, but we didn't share that kind of relationship at all.

"Thanks, it was a good day." I replied.

"I'm glad to hear that." He said and I was hoping the call would end soon because for one I was freezing standing in my little romper outside and secondly, his attempt at making conversation was embarrassing.

"I apologize for such a late call; I was held up in meetings all day. I meant to call earlier but I just never caught a break. I trust your brothers and step-mom called?" He said and I think that was the longest sentence he ever spoke to me.

"Yeah, they did, like they do every year." I told him, "And no worries, I'm glad you remembered this year."

"Mila," He began before he took a pause, "I would never forget my firstborns' birthday. I cannot apologize enough for not calling on time last year, it was not excusable."

'But you did forget and you're right, an apology won't undo it.' I mentally said.

"Don't worry about it Dad, it happens." I told him even though my heart felt like it had been punched.

"So, tell me, what gift can I get you?" He asked.

'Maybe you could say you love me? Heck, I'll even take you calling me sweetheart or any silly pet name most dads called their daughters.' I mentally answered, if only I could say that out loud.

"Nothing, I've got everything I need. Thank you though." I replied.

"Yes, but I am asking what you want?" He asked.

"Um, if I think of anything, I'll let you know. But I'm good." I said, trying to keep my emotions in check.

"Alright, I'm holding you to that. I'm sure you're with your mom and grandparents so I don't want to hold you up." He said.

'If only I was. My day was filled with reminders of what a nuisance I am to everyone in my life and possibly what a mistake I truly was.'

"Yeah." Was all I managed to say.

"Um, Eric suggested that maybe if you're free this Sunday, we could go out for a family dinner to a nice restaurant of your choice to celebrate your birthday." He suggested and I could sense the hesitance at first.

'Bless Eric and his kind heart, but I wish you would've come up with the idea instead Dad.' I wished I could've told him the thought in my mind, but I never could, no matter how close I came to doing so.

"Yeah, I might not be able to do this Sunday but maybe next weekend or the one after." I told him.

"Great, I look forward to that. Just let me know so I can clear my calendar." He said.

"Of course." I forced a smile even though he couldn't see me.

He took in a breath and I knew there was nothing left to say, he was about to end the call and at that moment I didn't want him to. Speaking to him made me feel just a little less lonely, it reminded me that I did have a dad, and maybe in his own way he cared for me a little.

"Well, I'll see you soon. Enjoy the rest of your day Mila." He said.

"Thanks Dad." I replied.

"I'll talk to you soon. Take care." And I knew that was it, he always similarly ended the call.

"Dad." I blurted before I could even think.

My chest felt a little tight and I was overwhelmed by emotions, maybe it was the fact that I was all alone once again for my birthday or maybe it was because the previous night I had a glimpse of what it felt like to wholeheartedly smile and laugh again. I danced on my birthday in what felt like forever, be it Mitchell, but he made me feel like a special birthday girl again after ages. He showed me all of that and then in a moment it was snatched away, and reality dawned down on me – a reality that I wished I could dream away from at times.

"Yes, Mila?" My father spoke.

I took in a deep breath, I wanted to talk to him the way I heard Faith talk to her dad and the way Wang would speak of his father. I wanted to tell him about my day and how much I missed home. I wanted to tell him that I was feeling really down, and I didn't exactly know why but the one call from him lifted my spirits just a little.

But I was a coward and egotistical, moreover I wasn't accustomed to sharing my feelings.

"Thank you for calling Dad," Was all I could manage to say. Swallowing down the very prominent lump in my throat I added, "It means so much to me."

"It's my duty to at least call you and wish you for your birthday Mila, no need to thank me." He said and maybe he was smiling, but I wasn't sure. I don't think I ever saw my father smile.

"Okay," I breathed, "Goodnight Dad."

"Night Mila." He said and the phone went dead.

I put my phone away in my pocket before I ran a hand through my hair and took in a deep breath.

"Tranquila Mila, tranquila." I whispered under my breath to calm myself down.

I composed myself and after taking in another deep breath, I decided it was time to walk back to the hotel room and face the gilipollas I was, unfortunately, sharing a room with.

I started to walk but just before I could get far a deep, male voice stopped me.

"Where are you off to?"

I turned around to see who was speaking and when the face came into view, the mental alarms were going off in my head. Standing casually with his one leg on the wall was the same man from the bar. I had no idea how long he was standing there and if he was listening in on my conversation.

"Um, to my boyfriend back at the motel." I lied again. I didn't care about any moral compass at the moment, all I knew was that I needed to get away.

"Boyfriend doesn't mean husband." He mused taking his leg off the wall and took a step closer to me.

*******

"I'm going to go." I mumbled and as quick as I could I turned on my heel, but little did I know that the guy was quicker than me because I felt his rough hand grasp my arm.

My heartbeat picked up drastically, in fact, it was erratic. I did not have a good feeling about this, but I needed to keep calm and not freak out, the main focus was to get away from him.

He walked around to face me; he was just about a few inches taller than me so we were almost eye to eye.

"I always liked me a girl with attitude, ya know, the ones who love to play hard to get." He drawled.

"Look, I don't know what impression you got but I have a boyfriend and he'll come looking for me if I don't get back soon." I told him, doing my best to keep my voice calm.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, "I don't believe it, because, "He lowered his face and whispered in my ear, "No sane man would leave a pretty little thing like you all alone at this time of the night."

Every fiber in my body was starting to panic, my heart was racing at lightning speed and my skin was starting to prickle. My stomach churned and I felt sick, my temples were beating so much that I could practically hear it in my ears. As much as I wanted to, but I couldn't control my erratic breathing.

I circled my hand around his which held my arm and tried to get out of his grasp, but he only tightened his hold. I looked at him with pleading eyes, "Please let me go."

"Shh," He hushed me, "Don't be scared Sugar, I wouldn't hurt you. You're too beautiful to break."

"Then let me go, please." I was so helpless that I was begging, doing my best to hold back the tears prickling at the corner of my eyes.

"I will, I promise." He whispered, his green eyes bored into my scared ones, "But first I want to have a little fun. I promise if you cooperate, you'll enjoy it as much I will."

I was now panting; my mind and heart were freaking out. I tugged at his fingers so he would let me go but he didn't. So, I used my long nails to an advantage and dug into his skin as hard as I could.

His hold immediately loosened when he hissed in pain and I took that to my advantage and set myself free from him. I made a run for it but he was fast, very