Page 63 of For the Love of Layla

I whimper, fisting my hands in my hair as his head once again thuds against the door, followed by the sound of the slide of a gun being pulled into place. “We’ve come full circle, little star. Either you come out or it all ends right here. It’s me and you, baby, till the bitter end. I’ll have you with me either way.” The sound of his voice, broken and scratchy twists my heart painfully ripping me open. Making room for the gut-wrenching fear that takes hold of me as I clumsily push myself to my feet.

I’m not scared for me, I’m scared for him. For the broken man on the other side of the door. The man that needs me, the little boy that felt all alone.

“Liam, don’t.” My fingers shake, every warning siren in my head blaring as I unlock the door. What I see on the other side somehow manages to damage my bleeding heart even further. Liam is panting his face wet with tears as he pulls the gun from his temple, pointing it inches from my face. He smiles, a thin line of sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, the veins in his tattooed arms more pronounced than normal. I swing the door open the rest of the way and take a step back.

“I love you, I’m sorry.” He mutters, before he uncocks the gun, discarding it on the floor. He stalks towards me, “You ran from me, again.” I immediately recognize my mistake, my heart jumping into my throat. I try to slam the door, but he’s too quick. Before I blink, his hands are on me, gripping my neck as he forces me onto the bed, “You’re mine.”

More tears slip from my eyes as I take in his panicked expression. His grip tightening uncomfortably on my throat, making my breath raspy with the effort it takes to pull it into my lungs.

“I love you. Please don’t leave. I promise I’ll fix this. Just don’t go.”

I dig my nails into his hands as black dots fill my vision.

I can’t… breathe.

A tear slips from his deep blue eye, splattering onto my cheek as it mixes with mine.

I love you, Liam. I don’t want to leave you. I never did.

My eyes get heavy as more dots fill my vision, obscuring his beautiful, tortured face. He shoves me deeper into the mattress. Shaking his head, tears falling from those crazed eyes as he strangles me. I trail my shaking hands up his muscular arms, knotting them in his hair. My last bit of strength goes to forcing his forehead against mine.

I think. I think I understand.You’re scared. You need help. I can help you.

A shuttering breath leaves his throat as he releases my neck. I gasp for air. It feels like fire in my lungs as he pulls me into his arms. He holds me there tightly as he peppers kisses wherever he can. I cling to him tightly too, tighter than I ever have.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” He whispers as I pull back, my breath still coming in uneven and heavy. I nod, pressing my quivering lips into his.

This isn’t okay. It’s so fucking far from okay. It's horrible and fucked and I need him just as much as he needs me.

Chapter sixteen

Prisoner

Moretearsslipfrommy puffy eyes as he refastens a padded cuff lock around my ankle, running his fingers around the outline. Making sure it's not hurting me. The other end hooked to, from what I can tell, some metal bar he’s installed underneath his bed. I rest my chin on my knees, “You had this here the whole time?”

He gives me a slight nod, “Since before you left me, just in case.”

This was always his plan.

My heart warms dreadfully as my stomach twists, “Am I the only one?” I whisper the words, half hoping he doesn’t hear them. It's stupid that something like that matters at a time like this. He reaches up lightly, gripping my chin before wiping my tears from my face, “Of course, little love, it’s only you. Only ever been you that… did this to me.”

“How long?” I whisper, nervous I’ll set him off again. The fact that he’s acting normal, like the normal Liam has me on edge.

Or at least what I assume to be the normal Liam. I don’t guess I’d really know.

“How long what?” He asks, leaning back as he gently pulls his hand up my inner thigh, causing waves of heat to flood my tightening core. I don’t fight it. There’s no sense in it. Not anymore. I’m his.

“How long will you keep me here like this?”

“As long as it takes, Layla. I won’t let you go, not again. I know you’re upset with me, for everything. You have every right to be, but you also have to understand it was my only choice.”

I scoff despite myself, “You could’ve just spoke to me, but no, you stood there and stared at me like I was a fucking enigma.” He jerks the chain, making me fall back onto the bed before dragging me to him, my breath hitching as he crawls on top of me, “You are an enigma.”

I shake my head, repeating myself like the broken record I am, “You could’ve just spoken to me.”

“And say what, baby? Sorry I tried to kill your boss? I’m not. Sorry I did what I had to, to keep you safe? I’m not. Sorry, I can’t fucking stand the thought of anyone’s hands on your soft skin?” I bite into my lower lip as his graze my collarbone.

“I’m not fucking sorry. I’m not sorry I killed that douche you were with. I’m not sorry I slit the throat of the cop that hurt you.”

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