Twenty-eight
Layla
Axelle and I changed out of our dresses and heels, not bothering to hang them up, but rather leaving them crumpled on the floor in our rooms. All the time we put into tonight, the money spent, the effort exerted, now piled in a sloppy mess.
We’ve been watching television while Stewart makes calls. He’s gone from barking into the phone to laughing to back to sounding pissed all night.
After he told us we’re checking into a hotel tomorrow so the movers can come pack up our stuff and take us back to Seattle, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get out of it. I need a plan, but I’m coming up empty.
I wish I could call Blake, tell him how sorry I am, and explain why I had to kick him out the way I did. Stewart isn’t just an everyday creep, he’s a ruin-your-name, destroy-your-life, and poison-your-dog-for-good-measure creep. I can’t stand the thought of him setting his sights on Blake.
Hopefully somewhere down the road, once I’m finally rid of Stewart for good, I can find him. If I could get him to hear me out, maybe he’d forgive the way I treated him. I keep my head focused on that, but I know that Blake’s not the kind of man who opens himself up once, and asking for him to trust me again is a leap.
“Pack a bag. We’re going to a hotel.” Stewart’s finally off his phone.
“You said tomorrow.” Axelle’s head is in my lap, and her neck tenses against my thigh. I run my hands through her hair a little more firmly. I don’t want her to think I’m the weak woman I was before. This time, I’ll stand up for us.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Pack. A. Bag.”
I return his glare. “No.”
“When did you become so defiant? You’ve been in Vegas for what? Three months? And now you’re little Miss Independent?” A glint of something sinister sparks in his eyes. “Seems I got here just in time.”
I whisper in Axelle’s ear for her to go to her room. She grips my waist.
“Please, babe.” My voice is steady and calm, the complete opposite of how I feel. “It’ll be okay.”
She holds on for a few more seconds then releases me and walks to her room, her eyes to the floor. I listen to the sound of her steps until I hear her door close and then nail him with a glare. “What are you doing here, Stewart? And why didn’t you sign the divorce papers? You said you understood. You let us go.”
He mocks me with a fake pout. “My poor stupid wife. Did you really think I’d let you go? I gave you space, but I knew you’d fuck up your life here just like you fuck up everything else. I expected a call two weeks ago when those slutty pictures of you and that kid at the pool were all over the Internet.”
My stomach bottoms out, but surprisingly not from the disgusting way he’s speaking to me. Has he been stalking us? “How did you know about that?”
“Shit. Everyone knew,” he says with confidence, but drops his gaze.
“You’ve been spying on me?”
“You’re my wife.”
The weight of my jaw hangs heavy on its hinges. “How long?”
“It doesn’t matter ho—”
“How long?” I demand.
“You’re hanging around with a guy who’s closer to Elle’s age than your own.”
I can’t believe this. Common sense tells me I should’ve known he let us go too easily. Why didn’t I see this coming?
“You’ve been stalking me and Blake.” My voice is barely audible as I process this new information.
“You’re married. You’ve embarrassed our daughter, me, and yourself.” He steps up close, the red coloring his face accentuating his blond eyebrows. “Now walk your ass into your room and pack a fucking bag. I’m not staying the night in this shit hole.”
My heart jumps in panic, but his insulting our home forces it to slow. I worked my ass off to get where I am. We’ve made this place our home and built a life for ourselves. He can do whatever he wants—call me names, belittle me, take my body. I’ve lived through his hell. But I won’t give up the life we have here. When I left Seattle, I vowed I’d never take another order from him again. It’s time I made good on that promise.
I think about the story Blake told me about the morning he decided he was finished living under the heavy hand of his father. His tattoo flashes in my mind’s eye.
Si vis pacem, para bellum.
If you want peace, prepare for war.
With that, an idea forms. If I piss him off enough, anger him beyond his control, I’ll stir up the war. I’ll drive him to the point of violence. The police will come, restraining orders will be filed, and ultimately divorce papers will be signed. I can do this. It sounds crazy, but I’m thinking crazy might be our only way out.
I see the guys at the training center take punches all the time. Sure, it’ll hurt, but I’ve got purpose on my side. Fight for the life I made here. For the life that Axelle’s made. And piling hope upon hope, for any future I have with Blake.
This is going to work. It has to.
I suck in a deep breath and square my shoulders. “Fuck you, Stew.”
His eyes widen, the brown piercing me and not letting go. “What did you say?” His nostrils flare with every breath, and his chest swells.
“You heard me. I want you to leave.” Excitement shakes my voice, but I’m hoping he thinks it’s fear.
“Have you lost your mind, talking to me like that?”
A loud knock sounds at the door just a couple yards from where we’re standing.
“Layla? It’s me, Raven.”
Stewart’s eyes dart from me to the door.
“I wanted to see how the outfit worked out,” she says through the door.
More knocking.
“I know you’re in there, girl.” Her voice is light and cheery. Like she really is here to simply stop by and chat.
I know better.
“Coming.” I move to let her in, and Stewart grabs my arm. He mouths, “Get rid of her,” and for the first time I sense his worry. He’s not in control here. Not in my house.
“Hey, come on in.” I swing open the door wide so she can see Stewart.
Her eyebrows hit her hairline. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
I try not to laugh at her lie. “Yeah, you’re not the only one. He dropped in unexpectedly. This is my ex. The one I told you all about. Stewart, this is my girlfriend Raven.”
After an awkward handshake and a very obvious evil eye from Stewart, we stand in uncomfortable silence.
“Axelle out for the night?” Raven asks, her face giving away that she knows exactly what’s going on.
Who told her? Blake? Maybe he saw through my act earlier and sent Raven to help. No way. A man like Blake would never send a woman to do his dirty work. My heart sinks into my stomach. He’s not coming to save me, not this time.
“No, she’s home. She cancelled with Killian after her dad crashed our evening.” I notice Raven is in jeans and a t-shirt with tennis shoes. “What about you? Where’s Jonah? No plans for Valentine’s Day?”
“Oh, nah.” She waves me off, but her eyes dart to the window in a way that’s meant for only my eyes to see. “He’s not much for celebrating Valentine’s Day.”
“Too bad. You want to hang out for a while? Axelle and I were going to watch Sleepless in Seattle and order a pizza, you’re welcome—”
“No, not tonight.” Stewart puts on his best cheesy sales face. The one he masks himself with when he’s about to do something unforgivable. “Sorry, Raven. I’m taking the girls to the Bellagio for a couple nights.” He puts his hand on her back and directs her to the door. “Appreciate you stopping by, but we need some family time.”
Raven slides from his hold. “Oh, well, before I go, can I grab those shoes I let you borrow?” Her eyes are begging… or warning? She’s stalling. But for what?
“Sure, let me go grab them.” I move to the mouth of the hallway.
“I’ll come with you. I don’t think you can carry all five boxes by yourself.”
Stewart groans, but doesn’t prevent her from following me. “Make it quick. We need to go.”
We scurry back to Axelle’s room, storm in, shut the door, and Raven locks it. Axelle jumps from the bed, eyes wide, probably startled by our entrance.
“Okay, girls. We don’t have much time. Jonah’s outside with Killian. We’re going to walk out of here together. If we don’t get out of here within five minutes, Killian and Jonah are coming in. And I can promise you, nothing good is going to come of that.”
“No, I don’t want you guys getting involved.” I whisper-yell. “Stewart doesn’t fight fair. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got a weapon.” Holding her shoulders so that she listens to me, I shake my head. “If anything happened to you or the baby, I’d never forgive myself. I sent Blake away for the same reason. This is my fight. Not yours.”
Strangely, considering the circumstance, she smiles. Not an uncomfortable “oh, that’s sweet of you” smile, but a real, happy, all-teeth-and-shining-eyes smile. “I knew it. He said no, but I knew it.”
“Who said what?”
“Blake.”
My stomach flips and trembles, along with my lower lip. “You talked to him? Wait, did he send you?”
Her happy expression falls. “Yes, I talked to him. But no, he didn’t send us. Killian did.”
Her words say everything I need to know. Blake’s giving up on us. He didn’t see through to the heart of me. He bought the lie.
“When did you talk to him? Is he okay?” My words are barely a whisper, and sadness burns behind my nose and eyes.
“We don’t have time. Just grab what you need; only what you need.”
“Raven. Please.”
She exhales and gives me a sad smile. “No, Layla. He’s not okay. Not even close.”
My heart convulses violently in my chest. I suck back my urge to fall to the floor and bawl. “Right. Well, I can’t blame him. I was awful.”
“Where the fuck is my wife, asshole?” The roar of an angry male thunders through the wall.
Raven’s eyes jerk in its direction then move back to us. “Looks like our time’s up.”
I grab Axelle’s hand, and we follow Raven out of the room and down the hall. In the kitchen, Jonah and Stewart are less than a foot apart. They’re staring each other down, shoulders tense, hands fisted.
“Hey, baby. We’re all set,” Raven says to her husband, not even a slight quiver in her voice.
“Take the girls down to the truck. Killer’s waiting.” Jonah gives his order, and I notice he uses Killian’s nickname. Smart move. For all Stewart knows, there could be another UFL heavyweight waiting downstairs.
Hand in hand, we move across the kitchen toward the door. My head is pounding, and my ears are hypersensitive, so I hear him move before I feel it. But it’s too late.
Stewart yanks Axelle and me back and wraps us tight in his arms. “They aren’t going anywhere.”
Jonah advances, his head down, eyebrows low, radiating fury. Stewart’s grip gets tighter. Axelle cries out, but he doesn’t let go.
Jonah moves another step closer. If a fight starts, Axelle and I will be in the middle.
“Jonah, stop. Take Axelle. I’ll stay. It’s okay.”
He freezes and tilts his head. “You’ll stay?”
“Take Axelle. Right, Stewart? Axelle can go. I’ll stay. We can go to the hotel. You and me. Okay?” I’m frantic. My words tumble out in a rush of nerves and determination.
He must be debating because he loosens his hold. I beg him with my eyes. Please let her go.
After everyone leaves, I can stick with my original plan. Piss him off enough to get him to hit me. All it will take is one time, and then he’ll get arrested. It’ll work.
“If you take my kid, I’ll call the police and claim she’s been kidnapped.” He moves us back, deeper into the house.
Dammit! He’s not going to let her go. “Stewart, just for one night. Let her go for tonight, and then tomorrow we can figure things out.
“Nothing to figure out. I’m taking you back to Seattle.”
“Wrong again, dicklick. You’re not taking my woman anywhere.”
Blake.
Every head in the room jerks toward the doorway. A shaky smile pulls at my lips as the shock of seeing him sinks in. Still in his suit pants, he’s ditched his dress shirt and coat. A black, sleeveless undershirt hugs his broad chest and ripped abdomen. He looks like a modern-day knight.
Stewart must be surprised too, as his hold slips and Axelle races to Blake. She throws herself into his arms. He hugs her and kisses the top of her head, not once taking his eyes off Stewart. “Hey, kiddo. Get your ass downstairs. Killer’s worried as shit down there.”
She scurries off, and Jonah has Raven go too. With the knowledge that they’re safe, and away from whatever’s about to go on here, I take my first full breath.
The air around us is electrified with tension. Blake and Jonah stand blocking the only way out, making the room shrink around us.
“Now you” —Blake steps farther into the room—“get your cocksucking hands off my woman.”
“My wife.”
Blake sneers and advances another step. “Did he say wife?” he asks Jonah.
“That’s what I heard.” Jonah’s answer is low and intimidating.
“Huh.” Blake rubs his chin, looking thoughtfully at Stewart. “She doesn’t want you here, but here you are. She wants a divorce, but you’re still married.” His face turns positively murderous. “She doesn’t want to fuck you, but you take her anyway.” His muscles coil tight beneath his skin. “Seems to me, you’re a bad fucking listener.”
A slight tremor runs up Stewart’s side. “You don’t know anything about her.”
“Oh, I think I do,” Blake says, his lips curling back over his teeth. “I know she tastes like sweet vanilla between her legs when she opens them to me willingly. I know she moans so deep when she falls apart in my arms that I can feel it in my dick when I’m inside her, this too she gives me. I know she likes it when I crush her with my weight after I come inside her, her arms and legs wrap around me so tight, I think she’ll break my bones.”
Stewart’s eyes bulge, and his nostrils flare.
Blake moves again, not looking to be anywhere near finished. “But most importantly, I know she’d sacrifice herself and her safety for the people she loves. She’s been doing it her entire life. Throwing herself up like a shield.” His eyes find mine. “It’s time someone did the same for her.”
Tears spill from my eyes, his beautiful words releasing the emotion I’ve been holding back. He understands what I did was to protect him.
He knows that I love him.
“Blake—”
“Ha! You’re dumber than you look, kid. She’s got you fooled.” Stewart’s mouth brushes against my ear. “Don’t you, slut?”
I flinch at his hideous whispered words.
“She’s coming with us,” Jonah states, reminding me he’s still in the room.
“She’s staying with me.” Stewart tugs me back a step into the living room.
“Wrong. You let her go,” Blake says, “or I break both your arms.”
“You think she’s some prize?” Stewart’s voice is louder now, most likely unnerved by his dwindling options. “Guess she didn’t tell you about what a slut she was in high school.”
He’s lying. I was a virgin before Stewart, and he knows it. He’s trying to convince Blake that I’m not worth it.
“Did she tell you? Did the little slut—”
Two hands wrap tightly around his throat. He lets me go and reaches to claw at Blake’s wrists. I stumble away and across the room.
“One more word about my woman being anything other than perfect, I’ll break your fucking neck.”
Jonah closes in but doesn’t make a move to pull them apart.
“Say you hear me, asshole.”
Stewart nods, and Blake shoves him back and releases him. He clutches his throat, catching his breath. “She’s… got you… fooled.”
“Oh yeah, and how’s that?” Blake’s tone is mocking.
Killian, Axelle, and Raven show up in the doorway. They hurry in, but Jonah holds them back with his body, not allowing them close enough to get hurt.
Stewart’s recovered from Blake’s throat constriction, and stands to his full height. “Did she tell you how many guys she slept with the night she got pregnant with Elle?”
“Liar!” My shout fills the room, reverberating off the walls. “Why are you lying?”
“Oh, I’m a liar all right.” Stewart laughs. “But not now. Then.”
He lied… then? Lied about what?
“Oh, come on! Look at me.” He points to his face. “She looks nothing like me.”
The entire room goes still, and my head feels light. Oh my God. My head swivels toward Axelle,who’s wrapped in Raven’s arms. Her face is drained of color.
“Yeah, that’s right. Let it sink in, bitch—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Blake shoves Stewart, sending him back a couple steps. “Don’t say another fucking word.”
A flicker of something calculated passes over Stewart’s face. He looks back and forth between Blake and me. His lips curl into a grin. “Me and the boys had some fun that night. Hottest chick in school, drunk as hell at a party.”
Bile rushes up my throat. I stagger back, bracing my weight against a bookshelf. I don’t want to, but I desperately need to hear what he says next.
Blake shakes with rage, his muscles dancing beneath this skin, ready to unleash. “I warned you. Not another word.”
“Didn’t take much to get her so drunk she passed out. Shit, she probably weighed ninety pounds back then.” Stewart’s laughing and teasing, talking about me but speaking to Blake.
“I told you to shut your—”
“Blake, no. Let him. I want to know.” What happened that night? I remember drinking, and waking up with Stewart. But the in between… could he be telling the truth?
“Mouse, baby.”
I shake my head. “Please.”
“Fuck,” Jonah mumbles from across the room.
“Oh, now you want the truth, huh?” Stewart runs his hand through his hair. “You didn’t seem to care about the truth when your parents were begging me to marry you.”
Begging?
“They were so worried about your reputation. Little did they know you’d fucked half the football team that night.”
My hand splays over my chest, and then moves up to grip my neck. No. I’d have remembered. Right?
“We had our fun with you, taking turns, filling you up.” He looks past me like he’s reliving the memory and enjoying it.
“You’ve heard enough, Mouse,” Blake growls, his voice trembling with rage. “Get Axelle the fuck out of here.”
Axelle shrugs off Killian’s attempt to pull her outside. Her eyes lock on mine. She wants the truth as badly as I do.
“No. Tell me everything,” I say to Stewart, knowing that we may never find out what happened that night if we don’t get it now.
Stewart’s eyes grow icy cold. “Everything? How about how you ruined my life. You and your bastard kid.”
The nausea bubbles up into my throat. As badly as it feels to hear what he’s saying, I need him to continue. My soul demands answers.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I married you because I thought you were Axelle’s dad. If you weren’t, why didn’t you say anything?”
He throws his arms out to the side. “How fucking stupid can you be? What was I supposed to do? Admit that I roofied the hottest chick in school so the boys and me could gang bang her? I’d end up in jail.”
“Enough.” The pop of plaster rings through the room. Blake pulls his fist from the wall, where he knocked a foot wide hole. “I can’t take this shit.” Blake’s jaw is rock hard, his mouth in a tight line, and his fists flexed. His shoulders seem bigger, swollen and held up high, prepared to do damage. “Tell him you’ve heard enough.”
Stewart studies Blake through narrowed eyes. That scheming look back on his face. “Haven’t you been listening, asshole? You don’t want her. She’s garbage. Even back in high school, no one stepped up. Not one of the guys claimed the baby as their kid. No one wanted them.”
Crack!
The sickening sound of broken bone, and Stewart drops. Blood gushes from his nose, running down his chin and onto the carpet.
“I want them. They’re mine.” Blake’s words are bellowed seconds before the room erupts.
The coffee table shatters against the wall. Stewart is up and punches Blake, but it has no affect. He throws Stewart to the ground, straddles his body, and rains punches to his head. Fleshy thuds of fists to bone ring thorough the room.
Strong arms lift and move me from my statued spot. Axelle and Raven are talking to me, but their words are static. White noise compared to the words that pound in my head so hard they rattle my core.
I want them. They’re mine.