by T. E. Sivec
“I’m sure. I am one hundred percent sure I need you inside me, Brady,” she whispers.
I let out the breath I don’t even realize I’ve been holding, pressing my mouth to hers and start to push inside of her.
A deafening, ear-piercing shriek of noise blasting through the house halts my movement, and my body freezes in surprise and shock. Neither one of us moves, the seconds ticking by and the racket growing louder as we both struggle to figure out what the hell is going on.
“Fuck! That’s your security alarm,” I shout over the noise as I push away from Layla and jump to my feet. I pull my pants up as I run over to the side table by the door where I had set my gun when I first entered the room after Layla’s nightmare. Lifting it into my hands, I double check the chamber.
I turn around to find Layla sliding back into her shorts, a look of fear on her face. Her skin, previously flushed pink from arousal, is now ashen and her hands shake as she wraps her arms around her waist. I want to calm her nerves and tell her that everything will be okay, but I can’t. Just like always, I let myself get distracted and now God knows who is trying to get into the house. I should have walked right back out of this room as soon as I saw she wasn’t being harmed earlier. If I would have been downstairs on the couch where I belonged, this wouldn’t be happening right now.
“Stay here. Lock the door behind me,” I yell to her as I step out into the hall, closing the door behind me.
Rushing down the hall, I get to the balcony overlooking the first floor, creeping up to it and peering over the railing, aiming my gun down into the living room as I scan the area. When I see nothing out of order down there, I slowly make my way down the stairs with my back brushing against the wall, careful not to make any noise. When I step off of the bottom step, I lead with my gun out in front of me as I whip around the corner into the kitchen.
It doesn’t take me more than five minutes to do a sweep of the first floor: nothing broken, all the windows and doors still secure, and no one other than Layla and I in the house. I quickly jog over to the front door and punch in the security code Finn reluctantly gave me earlier when he left to go to his own cabin. The alarm stops suddenly and I wince at the ringing in my ears with the abrupt silence.
I start to head towards the kitchen for the cordless phone that hangs on the wall to call the security company when a loud crash and a scream from upstairs pierce the silence.
“LAYLA!”
The shout bellows from my mouth as I take off out of the kitchen, my bare feel smacking on the hardwood floor as I rush to get back to her. I take the stairs two at a time, shouting her name the whole way until I get to the closed, locked bedroom door. Slamming my shoulder as hard as I can into the wood, the door flies open and I see a pile of broken glass on the floor right below her bedroom window, the sheer, white curtain billowing softly in the breeze.
My eyes frantically scan the room until I find Layla huddled in a ball on the floor with her back against the side of the bed, a red brick in her shaking hands.
I rush through the room towards the window, mindful of the broken glass on the floor as I get to the jagged hole and gaze out at the yard below. I scan the trees, the driveway, and the hedges and look as far as my eyes can see under the moonlight. As far as Layla’s house is from the road, someone would have had to walk quite a ways to throw something through the window since there aren’t any cars in sight and no one currently peeling out of the driveway.
I turn around and make my way over to Layla’s side, kneeling down next to her and prying the brick out of her hands. I turn it towards me and there’s only one thing written on it in white chalk: the word WHORE in big capital letters. Before I can say anything to her, the ringing of a cell phone comes from the table next to her bed. She blindly reaches her hand up to it and answers with a shaky voice without even looking at who is calling.
“Yes, this is Layla Carlysle. The password is hummingbird. Do I need police assistance?” she repeats back to the security company while looking at me questioningly.
I nod my head yes and she tells them to send the police, letting them know she’s unharmed and there is currently no one in the house with her that shouldn’t be before hanging up and tossing the phone to the side.
There are so many things I want to say to her before the police get here. So many thoughts running through my head that it’s all just one big fucked up mess. I didn’t want anything to happen with her until she knew everything about me and could make an informed decision about whether or not she wanted to risk getting involved with me. I should have handled things better with her instead of jumping on her the first chance I got. I let it go entirely too far when I was supposed to be protecting her, not losing my mind inside of her. I shouldn’t be starting anything with her until this job is finished and it isn’t a conflict of interest. I knew there was no way I’d be able to just ignore how much I wanted her, but I could have at least waited until I was off the clock for fuck’s sake. It was unprofessional and I was an idiot.
“Look, about what happened between us…”
Layla jumps up from the floor, her eyes glued to her feet as she steps around the broken glass and hurries past me.
“Forget about it. It was a mistake and it shouldn’t have happened. I just needed to forget about that guy’s hands on me. So…whatever,” she says with a shrug.
I stare at her retreating back in shock and anger as she heads towards the adjoining bathroom. Taking only a second before I storm after her, I wrap my hand around her arm and turn her around to face me.
“Let’s get something straight here,” I say with clenched teeth, staring down into her wide eyes as I try to keep my composure and not scare her half to death with my anger at her ambivalence. “This wasn’t a mistake. Not by a long shot. I’ve wanted to bury myself inside of you since the first moment you and your attitude walked into the room.”
Her lips part with a gasp, and I watch as her chest heaves with the breaths she’s taking, proving that what just happened between us wasn’t some half-assed way for her to forget anything. She liked it, and she wants more.
Letting go of the firm grasp I have on her upper arm, I slide my hand down to her wrist and bring her hand to my erection that’s straining against the front of my sweatpants so she can feel just how much I want her.
Her hand closes around me, and I have to momentarily shut my eyes and let out a low groan.
“This is what you do to me, Layla. Every second I’m within a hundred yards of you, I’m rock hard.”
She keeps her hand in place and begins to rub me as I move both of my hands to cup her face and tilt her head up so I can look into her eyes, forcing my knees not to buckle with what she’s doing to me.
“Don’t ever say this was a mistake, and don’t think for one minute I can’t read you like a book and see exactly what you’re trying to do: push me away first so you don’t get hurt. I’m not going anywhere, especially now that I’ve felt you come around my fingers and heard you cry out my name.”
Closing the distance between us, I claim her mouth with a forceful kiss, letting her know with my lips and tongue just how much I need her. I pull away quickly, long before I’m ready, and wonder how in the hell I’m going to compose myself to go downstairs and talk to the police that will be here any minute.
“We are absolutely going to pick up where we left off, and the next time you scream my name, it’s going to be when I’ve sunk myself inside of you as deep as I can get.”
With my hands wrapped firmly around a mug of coffee, I take a sip, close my eyes, and lean my back against the counter in my kitchen. Trying to block out the events of last night is useless, especially on only four hours of sleep. And if I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t even sleep that long. The majority of that time was spent tossing and turning, thinking about Brady and his parting words to me before the cops showed up.
I’ve never been around someone who could read me so well, aside from Finn. But Finn doesn’t r
eally count. He's just a friend, never a potential lover. We spent a few awkward weeks in high school testing out the dating thing by clumsily holding hands and trying to have a romantic dinner with just the two of us, but we couldn’t stop laughing at how weird it was.
The boyfriends I’ve had didn’t care much about knowing who I was on the inside, and I didn’t bother trying to change that. Sam…well, Sam was just an asshole who cared more about the bottom line than trying to figure me out. Looking back, I’m glad I kept him at a distance and he didn’t have any ammunition to use against me.
I’ve known Brady for a few short weeks, and he already has me tied up in knots. He already knows about the hatred that flows through my mother, and he can take one look at my face and know what I’m thinking.
“Don’t think for one minute I can’t read you like a book and see exactly what you’re trying to do: push me away first so you don’t get hurt.”
He was right. Of course he was right. As soon as his body moved away from mine and I realized what I’d done, on the floor of my bedroom no less, I felt more exposed than I ever have. I’d let him in, I’d shown him how vulnerable I was, and that scared the hell out of me. I threw out a flippant remark to push him away before I got burned. Of course I didn’t mean a word of what I said. I was with him because I wanted to be. I wanted him. I wanted to feel alive and desired, and I needed him to be the one to do it. Only Brady, with his piercing eyes that could see everything and his killer body that made my mouth water, could turn me to jelly with just one touch of his hand against my skin.
I don’t trust easily—a product of my upbringing and shitty life experiences. So why in the hell am I so ready to just hand everything over to this man? I want to confide in him. I want him to comfort me and tell me everything will be okay. I’ve never wanted or needed anyone to do that for me. I’ve learned to take care of myself and not lean on anyone. One mind blowing orgasm from him and I’m suddenly ready to throw all of that out the window.
“Morning, Lay,” Finn says with a smile as he walks through the backdoor in the kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee. “You get any sleep last night after the cops left?”
I sigh and shake my head, taking another soothing sip of hot coffee.
“Well, I talked to them this morning and so far they don’t have any leads on the brick. They figure it was just some crazy kids out for a few laughs or something.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal and goes back to adding cream and sugar to his mug. “You have a fan meet-and-greet at Capitol Records this afternoon, right?”
I set my coffee down and turn to face him, wrapping my arms around my waist to ward off the chill that comes over me when I think about standing in my bedroom the previous night scared to death when Brady had me lock myself in my room. I had my ear pressed up against the door, listening for any sound of a scuffle when the brick came crashing through my window and sprayed shards of glass all over the place. I had been petrified. As soon as he’d heard the alarm from his cabin, Finn threw on some clothes and raced between our two yards. He saw how shaken up I was and sat with me through the entire police interview. Now he was thinking it was no big deal?
“Do you honestly think it was just a few kids playing pranks?” I ask, my voice raising an octave or two along with my shock at his disregard.
“Well, yeah. Honestly, what else could it be?” he asks nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders again and pulling out his cell phone to flip through his messages.
“Oh, I don’t know, how about the crazy stalker who’s been sending me creepy letters and attacked me yesterday.”
I stare at him angrily, my fingernails piercing the skin of my palms as I clench my hands into fists.
“One does not necessarily have to do with the other, Layla. That guy at the club could have been some lowlife bum that was standing around just waiting for a woman to walk by alone and you happened to be the one who did it,” Finn argues with a roll of his eyes, talking to me like I’m a child who just doesn’t get it.
“Are you seriously trying to tell me that you don’t think this is all connected?” I fire back.
“Are you seriously trying to tell me that you suddenly believe all of that bullshit Mr. Navy SEAL has been feeding you?” Finn shouts as he slams his mug down, coffee sloshing over the top and pooling in a puddle on the counter. “I thought you were smarter than that, Layla. I thought we decided that he was just another pawn your mother was using to piss you off. He’s a drunk with a shady past that you know nothing about. He sticks his hand down your pants and now everything he says is gospel. Jesus, if I would have known that was the way to make you listen to me I would have tried a little harder to fuck you ten years ago.”
The smack echoes through the room before I even realize what I’ve done. The sting in my hand tells me I’ve just slapped my best friend across the face, and the redness on his cheek is further proof that we’ve both just crossed a very thin line in our friendship.
I’m too furious to be sorry for my actions. I told Finn what had transpired between Brady and I after the police left the night before because I needed my friend to tell me I hadn’t made a huge mistake. I needed someone who knew the real me to listen with an open mind and tell me I wasn’t just jumping into bed with the first guy that showed me some affection after the clusterfuck that was Sam. He listened and he understood, and he told me to do whatever I felt was right, whatever I needed to be happy.
And now, here he was, throwing all of that back in my face and making me feel like an idiot.
“I’m trying really hard right now to avoid saying something I’m going to regret. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you in the past few weeks, and I’m sorry if you feel like I’m taking someone’s side over yours, but you have no fucking right to talk to me that way.”
Finn cocks his jaw from side to side and runs his hand once down the cheek that I smacked as if rubbing away the sting.
His eyes are cold and there’s an ugly twist to his mouth as he turns his head and stares me down. I’ve never seen him look this angry, and for a second, I want to retreat in fear.
Finn takes a menacing step towards me, and I force myself to stand my ground and not move. He leans his head down towards me and speaks in a low voice.
“I’ve done nothing but support you, and I’ve been at your beck and call for most of my life. All I wanted was for you to be careful and to not trust some loser you know nothing about.”
I hold my breath as he takes a step back, glancing away from me and at something behind me, over my shoulder.
“I guess the guy with the bigger dick wins. Or is it the guy who is the bigger dick? I always get those two mixed up,” Finn says sarcastically before turning and walking back out the kitchen door, slamming it roughly behind him as he goes.
I close my eyes and let out the breath I’d been holding as I feel Brady come up behind me and smooth a hand down the back of my head.
“Wow, and I thought I had anger management issues,” he says with a small laugh as I turn around to face him.
The half-smile from his attempt at humor dies on my face when I see what he’s holding in his hand by his side: a well-worn, brown leather journal. A book that goes everywhere with me but is only brought out when no one is around. A book that stays hidden in an extra flap sewed behind one of the curtains in my room when I'm home in case my mother decides to go snooping through my things.
“What are you doing with that?” I ask in a horrified whisper as I stare at the book. A book that was a gift from my father on the last birthday I spent with him.
His head turns to what I’m looking at, obviously forgetting that he had it in his hand during the commotion with Finn. He holds the book up between us and raises his eyebrows at me.
“This? The window company came to replace the broken window this morning while you were in the shower. I had to take the curtains down so they weren’t in the way and it fell out when I moved them.”
He opens the book like he h
as every right to do so and begins flipping through the pages. I’ve never let anyone read the things written in that book, even Finn. I’m in such a state of shock that this man is here in front of me, scrutinizing my heart and soul like it’s perfectly fine. All I can do is stand with my mouth open and my whole body shaking.
He stops on one page, holding the book wide open, and I know what he’s about to do. I can see it on his face and in the way he clears his throat and swallows.
I write things down in that book as a way to escape, a way to get the thoughts and feelings out of my head so I never have to think about them ever again. I don’t go back and read what I’ve written; I don’t analyze the words or make changes to anything. I write and I move on. I don’t want to go down those roads again. I don’t want to relive the things I felt when I wrote them.
Every single page is filled with lyrics to songs. Songs I’ll never have the courage to sing in front of anyone because they are too personal. Songs that my mother will never let me sing because then everyone would know the truth. I don’t want them on display; I don’t want him to read them and judge me for the choices I’ve made.
“Please…don’t,” I whisper, my voice choked with tears I don’t even realize are pooling in my eyes.
He either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t care. His need to get inside my soul is too great. His deep, resonating voice fills the room with the words that have filled my heart with so much darkness for such a long time.
“Every day is another step closer,
to where I don’t want to be.
Another smile, another laugh, another moment
of this fake reality.
Because of you
I see clearer than I ever have.
Because of you
I can’t let anyone inside.
Because of you
I learned how to be alone.
Because of you
