Chapter Seven
Layla
I wasn’t lying. That little stunt this morning truly was nothing. That’s what happened when you were numb to anything even close to sexual. It made no difference if I knew the guy or not. I was very good at knowing what men wanted by their tone of voice. The guy in the cafe had wanted more, but that little kiss had shocked him enough that I could get away. I may be numb to sex, but that didn’t mean I’d do it with anyone. I only used sex as a bargaining tool.
“Layla, I’m going to work.” Ryder called from the kitchen. “Do you need anything?”
“A bottle of lemonade would be nice,” I said, running in to give him a few dollars. His fingers curled around mine as he took the money.
“Regular or pink?”
“R-regular is fine,” I stuttered. His hand was warm and he was standing too close.
He grinned. He knew exactly the effect he was having on me. “Okay got it. I’ll be home around ten, eleven if my boss is being bitchy.”
I nodded. “I’m going out tonight. I might not be here when you get home.”
An overprotective look crossed his face and I froze. What was his problem? “Okay but promise me you’ll call so I can walk you home.”
“I am perfectly capable of walking myself home,” I said defensively.
“But what about that guy who…” He couldn’t say the word. It was a word I had become immune to, but he couldn’t say it. So I said it for him.
“Raped me?” I stared at him. “I told you it was no big deal. It’s happened before.”
“It has?” His face paled.
I shrugged, suddenly unable to look into his eyes. I stared at the fridge. “Yea. And I’d be stupid to think it won’t happen again.”
“I’m sorry,” he said uncomfortably. “I can stay if you want to talk,”
Shaking my head, I blinked back tears. I wanted to talk. I needed to talk. I couldn’t talk. “No, that’s fine. I really want that lemonade.”
He chuckled lightheartedly. “I can still get it for you. I’ll take off of work tonight. I have a few days of vacation saved up. I can use one tonight. It’s really no big deal.”
A lump formed in my throat and my hands shook slightly. “No, thank you. Go to work. I’m fine.”
He sighed. “Okay, if you’re sure…”
“I am sure,” I said too quickly. Suddenly his arms were around me. I froze, afraid to breathe.
His breath was comforting against me ear. “I’m always here to talk, you know. I wish you would trust me.”
No, you idiot! You trust someone, you get hurt! That’s how this works! You need to stay away! My brain screamed.
“I’m really fine, Ryder.” It took everything in me not to hug him back. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to hug him tightly and never let go. But I couldn’t. Because if I did, I was afraid of how it would change everything. It would break everything. I couldn’t let that happen. I needed Ryder. I needed a guy in my life I could be comfortable around.
I just needed him to understand I couldn’t bear it if I broke him too.
Once I was finally able to convince Ryder to go to work, I sat on my bed, hugging Lilly to my chest. All thoughts of going out had left my mind. I suddenly didn’t feel up to it. It wasn’t fair. None of this was. I had never told anyone what went on after my parents died. And even my parents never knew what had happened to me while they were alive.
I was five the first time I was molested. It was by a family friend who had lived with us for a year. The first time I had had sex of my own volition I was eleven. The guy I was with was a high school senior. I didn’t even remember his name.
After my parents died, I had sex for money whenever I could get away from my controlling foster parents. I had enough money for an apartment by the time I was sixteen. I left as soon as I could. My foster parents didn’t care enough to report me as a runaway and the guy I rented from didn’t care about my age as along as sex was included with the rent money.
By the time I was eighteen, I was hooked on molly and coke and had OD’d twice. No one cared. I didn’t care. My life was all about drugs and sex.
How could I give Ryder the trust he deserved? And, even if I ever managed to tell him, would he trust me? I didn’t expect him to. He was the first good guy I’d gotten to know in a really long time. The rejection in his eyes would hurt.
Tears sprang to my eyes just thinking about it. A guy worth tears. I hadn’t met one of those in a long time. Lately nothing was worth tears anymore. Tears were reserved for the burning agony of withdrawal. I’d tried to quit cold turkey a few times in the past few years and always came back with tears in my eyes.
I was done with this life. Ryder was my light, my way out. I needed to learn to trust him. I hoped I could. He had been so kind to me. Our breakfast lunches were the best times I’ve had in a long, long time. Ryder looked at me as a human being.
For years, I’ve been looked at as a piece of ass, a drug mule, or a homeless delinquent that no one cared about. I’d forgotten that most people could be kind. At the coffee shop, Jacob and Miley had been very understanding and given me food. Ryder was kind enough to open up his home to me, something not just anyone would do.
A shiver ran down my spine as I remembered a cold winter night years ago. A very cold, hungry, and very strung-out, nineteen-year-old knocked on door after door. One look at my dilated pupils and the same doors that had so readily opened slammed shut in my face. I don’t remember how I ended up huddled against the wall of a building, but somehow I’d survived the night without waking up to dead, black limbs. Every time a door slammed, it meant only one thing. It meant I had to go back.
I didn’t want the door slammed on me again. I wanted freedom from the bad choices I’d made. I wanted a second chance. Opening up to Ryder was a start at leaving that life behind.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up my phone and typed with shaking fingers.
Do you want to play Truth or Dare with only truths?
I was open about everything that had happened after my parents died. I wasn’t quite ready to tell him about how my parents had died and anything before that point yet. That deserved a face-to face conversation.
When he got home, he only asked one question. He asked why I’d been dressed so early. This morning I’d gone out to score drugs. I swore up and down that it would be the last time. My body was already screaming in pain, but I’d meant it. I, Layla Saunders, was never going to use again. It was easier said than done. I really hoped I’d be able to keep my promise. I had to. No more chances. If this didn’t work, nothing would.
Bats flew around in my stomach as I heard the door open. Ryder was home. We agreed it was time to talk when he got home. Standing up, I went to the kitchen. He grinned as he held out a two-liter bottle of lemonade.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “What is that?”
“You said you wanted lemonade. You never specified the size.”
I poured myself a glass, dropping in three ice cubes from the freezer. “Next time I’ll be more specific.”
He smiled as he took off his shirt and threw it in the corner. “Oh yeah, that feels better.”
I shook my head. “You and your shirts,”
He shrugged. “Hey, girls are the same way with bras, aren’t they?”
“We are, but it’s because bras are annoying. They’re constrictive.”
“Shirts are constrictive,”
Shaking my head again, I walked into the living room and he followed. “Please do not say you have a similar policy about pants.”
“Hmm, depends,”
“Okay, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Ryder sat on one side of the couch. I set my lemonade on the coffee table before sitting down.
His demeanor was warm and inviting. “Layla, thank you for being so open. I really appreciate it. I can help you, if you’ll let me. Whatever you need.”
I chuckled lightly. “I’m handing you a loaded gun, you know.”
His dark blue eyes never once left my face. “I know. And I promise to be careful with it. Trust is a tricky thing for me too. But I really like you, Layla. I don’t let myself get easily attached anymore because of my mental illness. When I love someone, things can get messy. Really messy. Earth-shatteringly messy. Chelsea and I nearly destroyed each other. We knew everything about each other. It caused problems. We used that against each other when we were angry. I kicked her out a few times. We screamed. We threw things. It was…chaotic.”
“The door?” I asked. “Is that what happened to the lock?”
He looked at me sheepishly. “Yes. I slammed it too hard one night after a really bad fight.”
“That’ll happen,” I said.
Ryder’s hand inched closer, gently resting it on mine. “I can’t promise it won’t happen with us.”
I nodded. “I’m ready to cross that bridge when we come to it.”