Phantom Rider: The Aftermath | Book 1

Hit Me!

Mila's POV

Nights were the worst. Every time I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep, nightmares took over. I saw Bill naked with Alice, rubbing their bodies against each other, his eyes rolling in pleasure as he looked at her. The same eyes that looked at me.

Her large boobs bounced against him. They both moaned. Every night those nightmares became more explicit, my mind kept building up the story - more detailed every time.

I woke up screaming, covered in sweat, my heart pounding as if trying to get out of my chest. Being awake was not better.

The all too well known panic attacks found me once again. My chest tightened, my vision blurred, and I felt like I was suffocating. I clutched at my throat, gasping for air, but no breath came. My mind raced with a thousand horrible thoughts, each one more terrifying than the last.

In those moments, I lost control.

I hurt myself, hoping the physical pain would take away the emotional agony. I slapped my face, scratched my arms, and even punched the walls until my knuckles bled. The pain was sharp and real, a temporary distraction. But it never lasted long. The darkness always came back.

After that, I would curl up on the floor, hugging myself tightly, rocking back and forth like a child. I whispered to myself, trying to find comfort. "It's okay, Mila. It's okay." But it wasn't okay. Nothing was okay.

In my darkest hours, I longed for Bill. Despite everything, a part of me still craved his presence. I wanted to feel his arms around me, hear his soothing voice, smell his familiar scent. I hated myself for it. How could I still want him after what he'd done?

I wanted to go home - but that place doesn't exist. There is no home for me, never was, and never will be. No one has ever made me feel like the house I'm in could be home. Not even Bill.

Some days, I felt nothing at all. I was numb, a zombie. Other days, the pain was so intense it took my breath away. I would scream and cry until there were no tears left. The baby inside me suddenly felt like a burden. I was so caught in my own misery that I couldn't care less about what would happen next. Maybe my dad was right. Maybe I should have gotten rid of it.

I stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped taking care of myself. My body grew weaker, my mind more fragile. I was slipping away, piece by piece.

But then there were moments my mind cleared. One day, as I lay in yet another moment of silence, I felt my belly fluttering, like someone was moving inside. Even with all the crap I put myself through, the baby kept fighting - just like his dad always does. "Where the fuck is he?"

It sent me into yet another crying marathon, for the life I had imagined for myself and lost. For the family that I will never have. Bill made me believe that love is real. He lied.

As days went by, I started to lose my sense of reality, until I had no idea who I was anymore. I pushed everyone away, I didn't talk to Sergei, or anyone for that matter. I kept my room doors locked.

Tom's POV

For a week, I watched over Mila from the shadows. I made sure her life didn't fall apart while she was bedridden. I managed her bills, took over appointments, and had doctors and therapists on standby in case something terrible happened. I never take these things for granted after almost losing Taylor. You have to be ready for everything.

It was a delicate balance - keeping an eye on her without her knowing I was there. On the other hand, it seemed like I could walk right in front of her, and she wouldn't even notice. That was the scariest part of her condition. Funny that my brother somehow managed to make this happen.