Page 42 of For the Love of Layla

She’s scared… of him.

He flings her arm from him like it’s diseased, wiping his hand on his pants leg before tugging me towards him and turning us away from the startled woman. My anxiety prickles as my drunk mind struggles to keep up.

“See? He’s not right, never was.” She spits at us, making Liam turn back despite my desperate attempt to keep him from doing so. He can’t do this here.

“If there’s something so wrong with me, why did you come tonight? I haven’t seen you in months.” He asks, towering over her, still gripping me at the waist.

“You know why I’m here,” Her eyes flick towards me, then back to him, “and you’re my son.”

He scoffs, his lips twisting into a cruel smile, “You know I was never yours. It’s a shame your well ran dry Grace, you never were very good with money.” Something passes between them, some hidden meaning behind that first statement that I'm not keyed in on. I can tell by the look in her brown eyes. Her thin painted lips pressed firmly shut as he leads me from the gala. He waits until we’re clear of most of the crowd before he suddenly bends, picking me up and cradling me tightly to his chest. I don’t protest as the room sways uncomfortably around me, my eyelids heavy. He runs his fingers across the red finger marks on my arm, and I’m too scared to look into his eyes.

Never touching absinthe again.

I don’t know exactly when I pass out. The entire car ride is vague at best. I think I can remember the jingle of Peaches’ collar as she hopped into the backseat.

What happened to getting a driver?

I groan as I struggle to open my eyes as Liam cradles me tightly to his chest. We’re at his house. Everything smells like him. A faint smile spreads across my face. It would be so easy to slip back into this life with this man.

I can’t. What he did to Mr. Danvers was wrong, it doesn’t matter how noble his intentions were. I trusted him when he said he wouldn’t hurt him. He lied.

Will Liam even let me go after this? God, why do my arms and legs feel so heavy? I’m so tired. I lick my dry lips as he hums a song… it’s familiar. So familiar.

Liam?

Liam

I watch her as she settles back into sleep, knowing she’s out for good. I don’t want to sit her down. I want to hold her like this all night. Being with her only fueled an already raging fire inside me. I could see the hesitation in her eyes tonight, the fear. She was pulling away from me. That simply won’t do, I need Layla to snap so viscerally she can’t exist without my hand to hold. My arms to steady her.

That means I’ve got work to do.

She’s utterly lifeless as I strip the red dress off her smooth skin, taking extra care to touch her delicate curves as she lays there on my bed wrapped in the silk sheets. Using a warm rag to wipe away the makeup covering her beautiful, bruised skin.

She’s where she always should be, snuggled comfortably in my bed. Our bed.

I watch her closely, a bubble of panic rising in my chest as I lean in close to her mouth waiting for her to take another breath. When she does, I close my eyes and put my forehead against hers relieved beyond words. I wasn’t sure how many of her sleeping pills would render her entirely unresponsive. Sure, I could’ve used GHB, but I wasn’t sure how it would react with her anxiety medication.

If she did die, I’d be close behind her and I don’t particularly feel like committing suicide, not when we’re so close to our happily ever after.

I smile, rubbing my hand over her stomach, imagining what it will look like swollen with my children. I’ve wanted her to get pregnant from the first moment I saw her. She’d be an amazing mother. For so many reasons it would take too long to list. The idea of something made frommegrowing inside her, tying us together in such a meaningful way, makes my heart thump painfully in my chest.

Granted, doing this is more of a failsafe if plan A doesn’t work out.

I want her to want me, to need me of her own free will, not out of obligation to our future children. Gently lifting her and slipping one of my white t-shirts over her head before I slip off her soaked underwear. When she tried to leave me, my stubborn little star made me take back all the clothes I had bought her. They all hang in my closet just the way they would’ve had she never left. I leave her there, heading into the bathroom to wash my hands and put on the gloves I already prepared.

Latex free because she’s allergic.

I’ve read extensively about this, I’m sure I can do it without too much discomfort on her part. The only issue is her sleeping through it. One of the many reasons I had to bury myself in that tight little cunt of hers tonight, to explain the soreness.

Not that sex with Layla needs any ulterior motives. Watching her come apart on me, the way her pink lips part as she pants…her breasts heaving.

I shake those thoughts away stretching my back slightly. It’s stiff from pretending to be drunk all night. Not to mention the endless hours crouched in the fucking woods. I figured it would make her feel more comfortable if I was drunk too. Taking a deep breath I gently part her legs, making sure they are bent enough so that she’s spread wide before me. I can’t help but smirk as I look at her pink, glistening flesh. Knowing some of me is still deep inside her. I run my lubricated fingers down her slit, prodding lightly to test how well the pills are working. When she doesn’t move I press harder, slipping my fingers deep inside, giving her time to adjust before pressing further and deeper, feeling around for the string. I damn near shit myself when she groans, adjusting against the pressure. Not breathing again until I’m sure her amber-colored eyes aren’t about to flutter open. Her waking up to find me knuckle deep in her vagina would be… difficult to explain. When I feel the texture of the string, I grip it between my gloved fingers, steeling myself before I start to pull slow and steady, careful not to hurt her any more than necessary. She whimpers quietly, making me bite down on my inner cheek.

Almost done, little love, hang in there.

I let out a heavy breath as the IUD slides from her. After dropping the contraceptive down inside a glove, I head back into the bathroom for another warm wash cloth. I take my time cleaning her up, making soft strokes as slowly as I can before slipping clean underwear over her legs. Smiling at the prickles of hair that tickle my fingers, she could be covered like a wild boar and it wouldn’t make a difference to me. Words can’t begin to explain how much I’ve missed simply existing in her presence. I pull the covers up over her before leaning down and kissing her temple, inhaling her scent deeply. Thankfully she passed out in the car earlier, so I could get the particularly nasty stuff done at the little farmhouse. Of all things I’ve done, that was the only thing that I took no pleasure in. I know how much those walls meant to her, the things inside that house are important to my little star. Sacrifices must be made, and I was careful not to destroy anything entirely irreplaceable. I’m hovering on cloud nine as I change into a t-shirt and sweatpants, making sure Peaches found her way to her old bed and naturally, she’s right at home here.

It’s like they never left.

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