Chapter Two

Layla

You would think I'd be used to this. To the moving. I loved him, which was the only reason I put up with it. When Mum first introduced Cyrus into our life, I was terrified. I was ten.

He adopted me when I was eleven. Mum and him never married. But she also adopted his son, Finn, whom we all call Alfie. He is eleven now and his goal in life is to worm his way into my life as much as possible.

This morning, I caught him hiding in my wardrobe. I nearly killed him, considering I had just got out of the shower and only had a towel wrapped around me. Why was he in my wardrobe?

He was looking for my drugs.

Drugs that I don’t have! When he isn’t listening to my calls, hiding in my room, or sneaking into the backseat of the car, he’s playing video games.

My room. I cringed. It was filled with brown boxes at the moment. We seemed to move every five years. Well, Mum and I did. Then we met Cyrus. And Mum fell madly in love with a biker.

Cyrus, when upset, still scared me. Even though I know he would never hurt me, his temper, well, it just gets the best of him some days.

He was president of the Deadly Dozen and the plan was to relocate here. How Cyrus was planning on earning good money here was beyond me. Because the Satan’s Sons mother charter was here and you couldn’t fuck with them.

Cyrus was sitting down with Reaper tonight to work out a profit percentage.

A meeting that should be just between president and president. But I knew Cyrus. He didn’t do numbers.

I walked into the library. This was going to be my escape from home. I always moved into the library of whatever school I was at.

I was moving in between the bookshelves. I liked to be alone when I studied. Not that I had studying to do.

My cheek was stinging from my run-in with mum today. I swear her backhand was as mean as a man’s fist.

I rounded a corner, now at the very back of the library. That’s when I spotted a girl on the ground. Her knees were up to her chest and she was crying into her hands.

Okay. Do I leave? I know I hate people seeing me cry.

Something was telling me to go to her.

I care about people. It was one of my weaknesses. I care what people thought and I care how they felt. So I found myself walking closer to her and not further.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

Her head snapped up and I had never seen such mesmerizing blue eyes in my life.

“I’m sorry, am I in your way?” She wiped her cheeks.

“No. Not at all.” I stopped her from getting up and instead found myself sitting next to her. “Guessing your day is going as well as mine.” I smiled at her.

“If that means it sucks, then yes.” She wiped away more tears.

“Layla.” I introduced myself.

“Hannah.” She crossed her legs and looked at me a bit closer. “Why haven’t I seen you around before? The school isn’t that big. I’d remember you if I’d have seen you.”

“New.” And on my first day, I’m hiding out.

“First day?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” I watched her continue to wipe tears away. “So, what has you so upset?”

I didn’t know her. But she was beautiful, so I only assumed it was boy trouble. She looked like the type of girl boys would follow, clinging onto her every word.

“I just got some bad news.” She straightened up. “I just need to harden up.”

“Does this bad news come from a boy? Because I’m telling you, whoever it is isn’t worth your tears.”

She smiled, and it was a really heart-warming smile. “No.” She turned to face me, her eyes hovering on my cheek. “So, did a boy do that to you?”

I cringed. Right, my red cheek. You would think by now it would have calmed down. “No.” I wasn’t lying either. It was Mum. Not a man or a boy. Sometimes I wished it was because at least then I could hate them. But Mum, well, I didn’t hate her for it. If anything, I hated myself for causing it.

“So, how old are you?” Hannah asked, and I was thankful she wasn’t pressuring me more about my cheek.

“Eighteen, you?”

“Sixteen but seventeen at the end of the month.”

“You having a party?”

“My sister wants me to.” Hannah smiled from mentioning her sister. “My dad doesn’t really approve, though.”

“Strict dad?”

“You have no idea,” she gushed, grinning. “Did you have a seventeenth party?”

Last year. If a party classified as Mum and I fighting and me locking myself in the bedroom. Then yeah, I had a party. “Not really a party person.”

“Neither am I. I don’t smoke or drink.” Hannah smiled dimly. “But considering what’s happening to me, I should have.”

I frowned, not understanding what she meant.

“Well, we should go do our makeup.” She picked up her handbag. “I have a red-stained face to cover and you have that cheek to cover.”

I wasn’t even going to bother covering it. Wasn’t like anyone should be looking at me to begin with.

“Come on, Layla. Take it as my first advice as a friend.” Hannah stood up, no longer crying.

Friend. I never had a friend.

“Okay.” I got up and slowly started to follow her. Maybe my first day at this hellhole was going to turn around.