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"You survived. Go get her! Watch out for Pleasure Mountain. People tend to fall in love up there," he says as I'm walking to my room.
"I'm already in love with her," I call back.
"Then the mountain will seal it."
In my room, I splint my finger and clean up my face. The bruises haven't appeared yet, but I'm sore all over. I wince as I wrap my ribs and take some Tylenol. I gather a quick bag of warm-weather clothes. Truth be told, I've always wanted to ditch New York for someplace warmer. Never thought it would be California, but it works. I pack my gun and ammo and my pictures of Henry and Mila. When I'm done, Henry's relaxed and watching TV again. He's confident in me.
"I'm leaving."
He looks over his shoulder at me. "Michael's on his way to pick me up."
"I'm so sorry. I'll help you pack."
"No. Not necessary. It's fine. Besides, I like Michael's house. Lots of ice cream."
"Okay. Good."
"One more thing about the cabin."
"Yeah."
"Plant a tree for me there and I'll be with you."
His words punch me in the gut. "Got it."
I give him a long hug and head out to get my girl.
Chapter 20 One of Them
Mila
Tonight's the night. I'm going to tell my dad about Foster and me. It's probably going to get ugly, but I'm ready to fight for him. I love him and it's time for me to stand up to my dad. Foster's right. If he truly loves me, my dad will see how much Foster means to me and he'll want that for me. I send Foster a text.
Me: I'm going to talk to my dad tonight.
No response.
Me: I love you.
No response.
Hmm. He usually replies right away. I set my phone down and look around my room. Before I face my dad, I need to talk to Donnie because some of the things he did and said aren't sitting right with me.
I open my door and I'm about to walk down to Donnie's room, but he's coming up the stairs toward me, fast. "I was just looking for you. I need to talk to you."
He doesn't look up as he slips past me into my room. He closes the door and when his eyes finally meet mine, they are dilated and red.
"What's wrong with you, Donnie?"
He leans forward on his toes and pushes his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "I'm fine."
"You look upset."
"I'm fine!" he yells at me.
"You don't look fine." He looks like he's on drugs.
He shakes his head and glances back over his shoulder at the closed door. "Listen. I need to talk to you about Foster."
