Page 6 of Madison

“Don’t you want to know what they left you?” She asked him if they’d died. “Yes. The two of them were in a car accident, and both were killed instantly. “It’s quite a large sum of money. As well as other things that are now yours.” Something occurred to her, and she glared at the man in front of her.

“So these people knew about me enough to put me in their will, and yet this is the first time that I’m hearing about them. Is that correct?” The man, she didn’t know his name and wasn’t at all concerned with learning it said that they had all her life. “And they never thought to contact me in any way? Never once reached out and said, hey, we’re related? That is a pretty shitty thing to do if you ask me. I could have used a couple of relatives when I was growing up. What is their excuse for not, I don’t know, reaching out to say ‘hi’ or something like that?”

“They didn’t want to disrupt your life.” Layla nodded, then stood up. “It’s all right here if you would allow us to tell you about it. As I said, there is quite a substantial amount of money for you. Wealth beyond your wildest dreams, young lady.” He seemed pissy to her, and she found that her own temper was getting the best of her.

“Get out.” The man started to protest, she was sure, and she went to her door and opened it. “I said to get out. If you don’t leave by your own power, then I’m going to be forced to help you out of here.”

They didn’t bother gathering up the paperwork that was still strewn all over her table. The man in charge tried to hand her his card, telling her to contact him when she was in a better frame of mind, but she didn’t take it. He ended up laying it on the table and telling her that she was missing out on a great deal of money.

When they were all gone, she sat in her living room, too pissed off now to go back to bed and steamed. Her head was hurting so badly that she was sure it was going to take her days to get it under control again.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she did a search on the names that she’d been given as her relatives. She was surprised to find out that they had both been killed only a week ago and had been buried just four days ago. Reading about the accident, she was nearly to the end of the article when someone knocked on her door again. Getting up, pissed about as much as she’d been in some time, she jerked the door open and stared at the man standing there.

He was candy on a stick. Layla had no idea where that thought had come from, but she thought that her imagination had it right. He was tall, about three inches taller than her own six foot, and well built. She knew this because the shirt he had on formed to every curve and muscle that it was holding. His hair, dark brown, looked to have been styled by his fingers and not in an ‘I wanna look wind tossed’ sort of way but more like he’d run his fingers through it so many times—in what she assumed was frustration—and it still looked good. Licking her lips, her mouth suddenly dry, she got ahold of herself and glared at him.

“What do you want?” He asked her if she had a phone he could use. “And you don’t? You do know that every person in the world, even babies still in diapers, has a cell phone attached to their face. Why pray tell don’t you have one?”

“I have one, but I tossed it across the road when I had an accident. The fucking tow company said it would be several hours before they could get to me.” She asked him why he didn’t just pick it up and use it. “Because not that it’s any of your business, someone drove over it before I could get to it. Can I use your phone or not?”

“Not.” She slammed the door and went back to the couch. “I’ve had enough of men treating me like I’m dirt on their shoes today. Mother fuckers.”

The pounding at her door had her screaming. She didn’t normally do that, scream out her frustrations like that, but she figured that today was a good day to start. Going to the door when the prick kept pounding on it. She opened it and was knocked back on her ass when something or someone hit her full in the chest.

Flying backward gave her no time to react. When she hit her head on the table that was behind her, she felt it like it had hit her in the forehead, too. Before she could react, not that she knew what she’d do, the big man was lying across her with his arms wrapped around her. But they weren’t arms. Were they wings?

She didn’t move when she heard gunfire. The man moaned but didn’t let her go. Layla was sure that he’d been killed when he lifted his head and looked down at her. There was so much anger in his eyes that she found herself slightly afraid of him.

“Don’t move.” She nodded. “You’ve pissed someone else off today, I’m guessing. That’s why you’re a target for whoever fired at you.”

“I didn’t piss…well, I did, but surely attorneys wouldn’t shoot at me if I didn’t take their telling me that I have long-lost relatives? Would they?” She was suddenly set free. While she stared at the man from the floor, he looked like a regular person. “You had wings. I saw them. You wrapped me up in them to…you kept me from being killed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. People don’t have wings. You must have hit your head.” She sat up and watched him as he wandered around her living room. “Where the hell is your phone? The sooner that I’m out of here, the better things will be.”

“It’s in the kitchen. I don’t have a cell phone.” She pointed to the kitchen when he asked her again where it was. “You’re welcome. Shall I help you off the floor, miss?”

Layla wasn’t thrilled that she was talking to herself. She’d done it a long time ago, talking to herself when she was stressed. It had taken her a long time to get out of the habit. Now, here she was doing it again and didn’t care that people were making her have bad habits again. Getting up off the floor, she looked at the pillow that had the stuffing hanging out of it. Looking around, she found six, what she assumed were bullet holes around her living room and in her furniture. When the man came out of her kitchen, he sat down on the only chair that wasn’t shot up.

“They’ll be here in twenty minutes.” She asked him to go out and wait in his car. “It’s wrecked. Don’t you pay attention when someone speaks to you? By the way, you’re supposed to go to court tomorrow, or the attorney you pissed off is going to get all that money. It’s a great deal of it.”

“You snooped in my things? Christ, don’t you have any manners?” He didn’t answer her but did lay his head back and close his eyes. Kicking him in the foot, he glared at her and asked her what she wanted. “How much?”

“Forty million. That’s just in money. I didn’t get to read all of it, but there are some properties along with some investments. I’d have to get online to check the prices for today to give you a good accounting. Don’t let them take the money. While I don’t have any idea what sort of person would leave you money, but the attorneys will get it all, and you’ll get nothing.” She sat down. Layla was sure that he was still talking, but all she could hear was forty million. Looking at him, she asked him if it was forty million in dollars. “What else would it be? Pennies? Christ, you really did hit your head. Yes, it’s dollars. You need to find someone to keep an eye on you. You’re not very smart, are you?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m supposed to be brilliant. I have a doctorate in two medical fields. I know eight languages, and I’m fluent in smart ass. Or so I’ve been told. What’s your excuse for being a fucking bastard? Someone shit in your oatmeal this morning? No, that can’t be right. You’re much too good at being a bastard for it to have just happened.” He said she was a smart ass. “I freely admit that. However, I’m not in the best of humor today, so it comes out more.”

“You’re just stubborn enough to let that money go to waste, aren’t you? Christ, you could just take it and spread it around to families that need some helping hand.” She told him she’d not decided what she was going to do. “I might just show up to see how you handle yourself. It might be the most entertaining thing that has happened to me of late.”

Going to her door, for the second time today, she was tossing someone out of her home. Her head was pounding so hard that she was getting tunnel vision. And this arrogant ass wasn’t making it any better. When she felt something trickle down the back of her neck, she reached up to see if her hair had come loose. As soon as she looked at her hand, she knew that she was in big trouble.

“You’re bleeding.” She stared at the man. His face was becoming fuzzy as she watched him. “Did you hear me? You’re bleeding. What the hell is wrong with you that you don’t even know—”

“I want you to get out of my house. I’m fucking sick to death of you calling me names.” He said again that she was bleeding. “Really? Is that what all this red stuff is that I have on my head. Well, aren’t you just about the most helpful shithead that I’ve ever known?” She pointed to the door, or at least she hoped that she was. “I want you out of here right now.”

Layla was getting sicker by the moment. If she passed out in front of this person, she knew that he’d just leave her on the floor to die. Telling him again to get out, she held onto the back of her couch to keep herself upright. But it wasn’t working. She was falling forward even as the fucker was grabbing her.

“I’m not going to save you. You’re not going to be anything to me, do you hear me?” If she answered him, she didn’t remember. Everything was hurting now, and she didn’t know if she was going to be able to close her door when he left her alone. If he left her. Things were moving too quickly for her to make sense of anything at the moment.

“Madison, she’s lost a lot of blood.” She didn’t know the other voice, but it was just pissy enough that she knew that it had to be a person that was related to shithead. “Are you going to do anything?”

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