Chapter Five
Layla
Bag of sugar in hand, I enjoyed the sun on my back as I walked down the street, feeling a sense of peace that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Footsteps behind me ruined the mood. It was a busy city, there were half a dozen footsteps behind me but, these, these footsteps were more menacing. They had a purpose.
Ducking into the shadows of two buildings, I tried to appear casual as I tried to evade whoever was following me. I rounded a corner. The sugar banged into my leg with every step. It reminded me of the night I ran away from Devin. That had only been two days ago, but it already felt like a lifetime ago. Devin wasn’t stupid. He probably realized I’d run. I wasn’t the type to disappear on him, off on a drug binge. That had happened only once, and it had ended badly. If he caught me now, it would be even worse.
The footsteps stopped. I took a moment to relax. A strong arm grabbed me from behind, and hot breath caressed my cheek. “I knew you’d still be in town, you little bitch.”
“Let me or I will kick you so hard, you’ll be lucky to ever have kids.” I threatened in the most intimidating voice I could manage. It was about as intimidating as Simba’s first roar.
He chuckled, a low wet sound that made my skin crawl. “Already beat ya to it. I have three. Three different whores. After me for money each month.”
My stomach plummeted, my heart reaching my toes. I couldn’t imagine throwing away your own children. My own mother had chosen drugs over me. Devin’s kids were better off without him.
It still made me sick whenever I thought of seeing my mother do drugs for the first time. I was four. After she snorted the white powder, she collapsed, her nose bleeding as she shook on the floor. The rest was a merciful blur. That was something no kid should have to see.
“They all think they’re better than me since they cleaned up their act, gotten corporate jobs instead of dancing on a pole.” His grip around me tightened as he hissed through gritted teeth. “Do you think you’re better than me, Lay-Lay? Huh, do ya?”
How did he know my name was Layla? “No, Devin, I don’t. Now, please, let me go.” I said, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear. I was afraid of what he might do and I was angry that I was afraid.
“How do I know you won’t run again?”
“I won’t,” I promised, meaning it. In that moment, I would have promised anything. “I promise I won’t.”
“So, Lay-Lay, where you been staying?” he asked conversationally as he released me. Your name was on file when you bought the phone, by the way. I knew you’d slip up eventually. You never looked like a Maddie to me.”
I stepped a few feet away, revulsion bubbling inside my stomach. I had the strongest urge to vomit. I had to lie. He could hurt Ryder. “Around, on the sidewalks.”
A scowl darkened his face, but his voice remained calm. “You don’t have your bag with you. You don’t have Lilly with you.”
“I-I left her on a bench.” My knees wobbled and the world around me started to sway. I was close to either passing out or pissing myself from fear, maybe both.
“Liar!” Devin shouted, pinning me to a wall. “You would never leave her! That damn bear means more to you than your own damn life!”
The rough bricks scraped my skin as I tried to get away, to fuse with them, to seep in between the cracks. Sadly, I couldn’t do that. I was trapped. I was always trapped.
And he knew that.
Minutes, or hours, later, I woke up feeling like I’d been run over by a truck multiple times. I was laying in the alleyway, near the corner store. It was dark. It had been hours, then. Devin had forced me to come here. A familiar pain between my legs told me what I needed to know. My phone lay feet from me, a bullet hole through the screen. A clear message.
Using the wall for support, I stood up slowly, assessing the damage. Everything hurt but seemed to be in working order. I bent down to pick up my phone. It saddened me that I wouldn’t be able to grin like an idiot at Ryder’s earlier texts. Pushing the thought aside, I picked up the plastic bag that contained the bag of sugar. The sugar had spilled. Some of it was on the street, but most of it had stayed inside the plastic bag. I would have sugar for coffee tomorrow. That thought, as stupid as it was, made me so happy I felt tears in my eyes.
Slowly, I made my way back to the house. With any luck, Ryder would be asleep and I’d be able to crawl into bed unnoticed. I should have known better. I was never lucky.
“Layla, how long does it take to-” Ryder’s joking grin melted into a look of horror as he saw me. “Wh-what happened to you?”
“Do you have a container I can put this sugar in?” I asked, holding up the bag. “It kind of spilled.”
Um, yeah, about that. What happened?” Ryder demanded as he followed me into the kitchen.
“I don’t see it,” I said, shuffling through one kitchen cupboard after the other, completely ignoring him as he continued to stare holes into the back of my head.
“Have you even seen yourself?” he asked with a bite to his tone. “Look, if you won’t tell me what happened, at least let me take you to the hospital. You look like you got into a fight with rabid wolves!”
I sighed, hopping off my chair and trying not to wince at the pain that that action caused. “I was raped.”
“You-what?” Ryder’s mouth was open and gaping like a fish. His eyes reminded me of a deer caught in headlights. Damn his beautiful, concerned eyes. It was the look any normal person would have. It was the look any normal person should have. It reminded me that I should be upset. That I should feel something. I used to feel something. I used to feel everything. I quickly learned it was better to feel nothing. It was better that way. Most people would say bottling up emotions wasn’t healthy. They were wrong. I didn’t bottle up emotions. Because I didn’t have a bottle anymore.
“Really, Ryder, it’s fine. I’m fine. I will need a new phone though. Bastard shot it.”
“The person- They had a gun?” he exclaimed.
A small, sad self-deprecating smirk played on my lips as I slightly turned away from him. “Of course it was a man. A woman I could have taken.”
“Why won’t you tell me what happened? I have a therapist on speed dial for when I’m going through rough times. I can call her, we can be in her waiting room in an hour. We can take a bus.”
The bitterness in my own laugh made my skin crawl. “A therapist? Oh, Blue Eyes, I’m beyond therapy.” I started to walk to my room. I needed half a gram. I needed a gram. I needed my whole damn stash. I needed to hug Lilly.
“A hospital, then? Something, for Christ’s sake, Layla! You were raped and you’re acting like it’s nothing! You need help! At least let a doctor check to make sure the bastard didn’t injure you down there!”
I froze and whipped around, looking directly into those dark blue eyes I’d nearly come to trust. “That’s what you suggest? A fucking doctor? Daniels, I know we haven’t known each other long, but when I say I’m fine, I’m fucking fine!”
“Layla, talk to me. Please.” His voice was small, scared. The poor boy. My voice used to sound like that. The fact that I felt nothing, not even the urge to comfort him, should have scared me.
But it didn’t.
I was a heartless monster.