Page 28 of For the Love of Layla

I need help. Serious fucking help.

I whimper again, the sound laced with something bizarre and fear, so much fear as his lips press into mine, he adjusts the angle of the gun, “Yes, you do.”

“Tell me. Tell me who you are, please.”

He adjusts the angle again, pushing it so hard that my skin screams in protest.

Oh.

He’s holding it like that, so the bullet… hits us both. I let go of him as he presses light kisses into the tip of my nose, “You know the answer to that, Layla, you just won’t fucking admit it.” I pull back, looking into his familiar deep brown eyes, searching. I flinch as tires peel against the gravel of my driveway.

They’re here.

Panic takes over me, but for an entirely different reason. A bad reason.

I want…to protect him.

He’s unwell, he…lovesme. Right? “If you go off the left side of the balcony, they won’t see you. You can cut straight into the woods.” His dark eyes widen as he removes the gun from my chin, pressing it into my hand.

“See you soon,lítla ást.” He says before he takes off for the stairs just as the police bang on the front door.

“Miss. Burke! Are you in there?”

I quickly let down the hammer of the gun, slipping on the safety. My head throbs as I struggle to make sense of my own actions. It all could’ve ended right here.

Why did I let him go? Am I that fucking desperate for love?

I knew my dad fucked me up, but damn, Layla. I want to know who he is, why he’s doing this. Why me?

You’re scared of the answer.

Liam…

I shake my head trying to collect myself as I open up the front door, typically being greeted by officers with guns drawn might have scared the shit out of me, but right now staring at the bright flashing scene in front of me…I’m numb.

Chapter seven

A Lingering Suspicion

Layla

By the time Friday rolls around, I’m not only ignoringhiscalls but Ava’s as well. Whatever he’s trying to do. Whatever effect he wanted to have on me worked perfectly. I don’t feel like going out. I don’t want to speak to anyone. All of my thoughts revolve around him. Who is he? Why me? What could he possibly achieve by tormenting me? I drove past Curran Enterprises three times this week. Hoping the sleek exterior of the tall building would offer some answers, reminding myself why barging in and demanding them wasn’t a good idea. I can’t shake the familiarity I feel when I’m with him. He feels…good. Impossibly good. The only person who ever felt like that was Liam. It just doesn’t make sense, none if it does. I sit in my car staring at the rows of cold headstones, not really sure why I’m even fucking here. I haven’t felt the need to visit him since that day. Nor have I been to see the good, kind man laid to rest beside him. Both of them altered the course of my life in ways I’ll never crawl back from. Just likeheis doing now.

Layla, Age Fourteen

My heart soars as I bring the last of my bags into the old farmhouse I’ll now call home. I can’t help but smile, all the best memories are in this house away from dad. Now I get to live here forever. And he’s gone, forever. I know there should be more grief associated with losing a parent, but it comes and goes. One moment I’ll feel glad he’s dead, relieved that there will be no more screaming. No more walking on eggshells, wondering what thing will set him off. The next moment all I can see is the light leave his glossy brown eyes and I can’t stop the tormenting flood of guilt that hits me soon after.

You made a big girl decision, Layla, that comes with big girl consequences. Big girl feelings. Deal with it.

“Want something to eat, kiddo?” Grandpa asks, leaning his pot belly against the kitchen counter. I wipe the smile from my face before turning around and meeting his familiar brown eyes. Only in this version those eyes are filled with warmth and love, not disgust and hatred. I’ll never understand how such a kind gentle person could have raised the woman hating son of a bitch that was my father.

“Yes, sir.” I say quietly, sitting down at the table as he rummages through the fridge.

“I’ll admit I haven’t kept this place stocked nearly as well as Veronica used to. Hell, that’s been so many years ago, it’ll be nice having you around to keep me in check.” I don’t need to see him to hear the smile in his voice as I pick at my black nail polish underneath the table.

“What was grandma like?” I ask hesitantly. A question I wouldn’t have dared mutter while dad was alive. Across the country wouldn’t have felt like an adequate distance. Grandpa emerges from the fridge with a Tupperware container in hand, “Leftover pork steak, okay?”

I nod as he continues, “Veronica was the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid my eyes on. She didn’t want a thing to do with me at first.” He chuckles, grabbing a plate from the cabinet.

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