You Are Mine (Forever)

by Kar, Alla

  A chuckle slips from his lips, and he shakes his big ass head. “I know all about your weighed dice and your gambling in high school. Funny how things never really go away, huh?”

  Leaning forward, I glare at him. His slimy smile makes me want to barf. “What are you getting at, Detective?”

  He shrugs. “I’m just wondering exactly why this person is after you? Is it really revenge of your parents, or did you have a run in with him. Hustle the wrong person like last time?”

  Heat is burning underneath my skin. My ears are hot and blood boiling. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  Detective Vice laughs and runs his fingers over his balding head. “I’m not calling you anything. I’m just saying that it looks a little fishy.”

  Aggravated, I stand up. “Thanks for your help, Detective. But, if you’re not going to give me any useful information or help, I’ll be going home.”

  I turn on my heel and leave before he has a chance to say anything.

  ***

  I lean against the counter at Java City and blow my bangs from my eyes. My head is pounding from the different coffee smells, and my Java City shirt is itching my neck. Business has been slow and since the next worker doesn’t get here for another five minutes, I’ve been bored. Eric doesn’t work here anymore, he got fired for giving his boyfriend free coffee. I told him to cut it out but he kept doing it.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pick up without looking at the phone. “Hi, Taylor.”

  “I got a call from Detective Vice just a second ago.”

  Fuck. Isn’t anything confidential anymore? “Oh, yeah? Any new leads?”

  He chuckles, sending goose bumps up and down my arms. “Layla are you suicidal? He could have killed you!”

  “But, he didn’t. I needed to get some clothes to go to see your mom. I have to look descent.”

  He sighs loudly, and I can hear the sounds of the weights hitting the bench, at the gym, in the background. “When do you get off?”

  “Seven.”

  “I’ll be waiting, then I’ll follow you home.”

  I groan. Great, now I have to have someone follow me everywhere. “Okay.”

  Taylor hangs up the phone without another word. I know he is mad, but I can’t live my life like a baby. I shove my phone back into my pocket. I mumble to myself about not being a baby and watch out the wide windows in the front of the store.

  “Does he always treat you like you’re a baby?”

  I turn on my heel. Damon is leaning against the counter, hands shoved in his jeans and ankles crossed. “No,” I snap, turning my head.

  He laughs. The sound of his feet hitting the floor is soft behind me. “Come on. I’ve seen how protective he is of you. Can’t say that I blame him, but he goes a little too far, don’t cha think?”

  I shrug and hold my chin up with my hand. “There is just a lot going on, that’s all.”

  He makes a low sound in his throat and slides in beside me, leaning against the counter. “So, tell me. We have a while. Why is this guy after you?”

  My neck throbs in pain from me jerking my head toward him. “I told you that I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He narrows his green eyes and shrugs. “Okay.” The bell rings on the door. A couple of kids come in and order. After I get their drinks, I feel Damon’s grasp on my arm. “You can always tell me if something is going on. I’ll help the best way I can. Promise.”

  His promise sounds legit, but I wouldn’t bank on it. He doesn’t know what he is getting into. “Okay, sure,” I mumble. I’m not wanting to have this conversation with him, or get him dragged into this hell hole of a situation.

  We have a really slow night. We talk about different things, school, family, and stupid work study jobs. I’m leaning against the counter stretching my neck when I feel Damon’s hands press against the aching muscles in my neck.

  I freeze, my body numb from the shock. A low chuckle erupts from his chest and into my ear. “Don’t worry, Layla. I’m not going to make you take your clothes off. I’m just offering a helping hand.”

  Biting my lip, I close my eyes. This isn’t a good idea. Taylor has eyes everywhere. I can imagine what kind of fight would break out if he saw Damon put his hands on me.

  “Feel good?” he asks, breathe hot on my neck.

  I nod but step out of his grasp. Turning, I face him. His lips are parted and his eyes wide with excitement. “Look, Damon---,”

  “Don’t you dare fucking touch her again,” I hear from behind me. I turn on my heel and glance over at Taylor. His hair is a sweaty mess, and his shirt is soaked with sweat. He has been at the gym. My stomach flips when I see Taylor’s fists clenched at his sides. I swear I hear his teeth clench from over the counter. He is already amped up from working out, I can’t imagine the adrenaline coursing through him right now.

  Damon waves Taylor off. “Ah, calm down, man. I was just helping her out. No harm done.”

  Taylor chuckles, one of those you’re-gonna-get-it chuckles and cracks his neck. A slur of profanities come out under his breath before he says, “Don’t tell me to calm down, motherfucker. I’ve already warned you. Now, don’t touch her again.”

  Damon sighs, glances down at me and smiles. Fuck. Taylor is around the counter in zero point two seconds. His forehead is an inch away from Damon’s and they stand about the same height. Damon doesn’t look like he is going to back down. We’ve drawn the attention of the few lingering customers we have. They are all staring at them, some wide-eyed and other’s smiling. Everyone just loves to watch a fight. I never understood why. Damn assholes.

  “Hey,” I say, separating them with my body. “Look. This is ridiculous.” I turn toward Damon. “I’m going to clock out and go home. You know how to close up?”

  He glances down at me, his jaw tight. “Yes, I’ll see you next week.”

  Taylor wraps his arm around my waist and yells over his shoulder, “Don’t bet on it, asshole.”

  I’m fuming. Does he always have to do this? As soon as the swinging doors, to the back, shut, I turn toward Taylor. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  The gray in his eyes are darkened. He presses me against the wall and gently grabs the nape of my neck. The warmth spreads up my thighs. “I don’t want him touching you. It looked like he was getting a chubby just rubbing your shoulders.”

  Ew.

  “Taylor, I can’t live like this. You’re going to have to stop it. I can handle myself. I was stopping him before you barged in.”

  He rubs his fingers over the back of my neck and then gently touches my jaw. “I have a bad feeling, baby. You’ve got to understand. I don’t like people touching you, but he is starting to push my limits. He shows up everywhere it seems like. Something is off about him.”

  Good thing he doesn’t know Damon lives in my apartment complex. I shrug. “Small campus. Now, can we please go home?”

  Taylor sighs, kisses my forehead and leads me outside.

  Chapter Seven

  Layla

  Taylor’s family lives one hour away. The trip seems like it has only taken fifteen minutes. My hands are intertwined in my lap, and my body feels like fire crackers are bursting within me. I have no idea what to expect. Will his family be snobby? Awkward? I’m not the bring home to meet the family type. I’m the one that gets pushed to the side and ignored during holidays.

  “You’re uncharacteristically quiet, Layla.”

  Taylor is staring at me, a smile rising from the corner of his mouth. “I’m nervous,” I say. I glance down at my jeans and sweater. I tried to cover up the best I could.

  “Layla, you have nothing to be nervous about. My family is going to love you, I swear.”

  I give him the best fake smile I can conjure up and look out the window. We’re slowing down now in a middle class neighborhood. I watch each house as we go by, anticipating which one Taylor grew up in. We finally turn down Oakland Street and pull into the third driveway on the left. It’s a one story brick
house, with white shutters. A SUV is parked in the driveway next to a dirt bike.

  “This is it,” Taylor says, before jumping out. A squatty basset hound with droopy eyes waddles over to Taylor, its tongue hanging out. “Hi, girl. Did you miss daddy?” The dog rolls over on her belly and wiggles her foot when Taylor scratches her underneath her chin.

  A squeal from the porch startles me. A girl, who must be Amy, runs toward Taylor and jumps into his waiting arms. “Taylor,” she screams, another squeal piercing through the air.

  She has short, choppy brown hair, a sweet smile and eyes the same color as Taylor’s. Taylor nuzzles her neck and puts her down. “I miss you, Amy Boo.”

  “I miss you, too,” she says. Her eyes narrow as if she has just realized I’m standing beside Taylor. She gives me a once over and sneers. “Who are you?”

  Taylor pushes her shoulder and gives her a warning glare. Great. “This is Layla, my girlfriend.”

  Amy raises an eyebrow and pops her hip out. “Hump,” she says before grabbing Taylor’s hand. “Well, we better get inside.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  She gives him a pouty face and moseys inside. I wait until I hear the door slam before I turn toward Taylor. “Great, Taylor. Your sister hates me.”

  He laughs, ruffles my hair and wraps his arms around my waist. “She doesn’t hate you. I’ve never brought a girl home before. I was like a father figure to her, since my dad was an ass. She just looks up to me that’s all. My brother,” Taylor gives me a look, “will love you. And so will Mom. Let’s get inside.”

  I reluctantly nod. Taylor’s house smells great. Everyone’s house has a certain smell, and Taylor’s is like walking into a flower shop. I see candles lit, and a plate of cookies sat on the kitchen counter. His house is homey, with mix-matched pillows, pictures all over the walls and older furniture.

  Taylor drops our bags by the front door. “Mom,” he yells.

  I squeeze Taylor’s hand as soon as I see a short brunette walk around the hallway wall. Her eyes are gray, and they smile as soon as she lays eyes on Taylor. “Taylor,” she whispers.

  He takes two giant steps forward and wraps her in his arms. She sniffles into his ear. I can’t hear what she says but it makes him laugh. She glances over at me and I wait for the same reaction as Amy, but she smiles and grabs me into a hug. “You must be Layla. It’s such a pleasure to meet you, hon. I’m Mandy. Taylor has told me a lot about you.”

  My cheeks are hot but I manage to say, “All good things I hope.”

  She chuckles and nods. “All good things. So, your brother is at Saturday baseball practice, but should be home in about two hours. Why don’t you two wash up, rest and I’ll call you when dinner is ready?”

  Taylor bends down and kisses her cheek. It’s almost too damn cute. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any hotter. “Sure thing.”

  Without hesitation, Taylor grabs our bags and escorts me into a room. It’s not until the door is closed that I realize it’s his old room. There are half-naked girls on the walls, an old stereo and a full size bed with black sheets. A few baseball cards, two shelves of movies and a small flat screen TV.

  I run my finger against the black comforter. “So, this is your old room?”

  Nodding, he lays our bags on his bed. “Yep, this is where I grew up.”

  I point toward his bed. “Is that the bed you got lucky on for the first time?”

  A smile crawls up his face. “Oh, no. My first time was in the bed of a pickup truck, I’ve never brought a girl here to do it. My dad was really weird about stuff like that.”

  I lift an eyebrow, crawling onto his bed. “Oh, so your bed is a virgin?” I ask. I bite my lip and tug off my sweater, glancing to make sure his door is locked.

  Taylor smiles and crawls on top of me, pulling his shirt off. “It is, but we can change that, sweetheart. You’ll be the first and last girl in this bed, I promise that.”

  I know it’s silly, and what happened so long ago doesn’t matter, but it turns me on knowing I’m the first and last girl he is going to have on his bed. My nerves are racing knowing his family is in the next room. Not really the best first impression, but I’m sure we can be quiet. Rushes of nerves are pounding underneath my skin, making every touch electric. Taylor slides his undershirt over his head and tugs at my jeans until they’re a pile of clothes on the floor. He takes his index finger and runs it along the inside of my thigh until he gets to my sex. He cups me. “You’re so fucking sexy, Layla.” He shakes his head. “I have no idea why I was chosen to be so lucky.” His finger finds their way underneath my panties, stroking me lightly. “That feel good?” he asks, his voice rough.

  I nod, arch my back and bite my lip. “More,” I urge.

  He smiles, slides off my underwear and bends his head between my legs. “Shit,” I moan, grabbing a hand full of his hair.

  “God, you’re so sweet,” he whispers, driving his tongue into me. Jesus. I tug at his hair, directing him until I’m begging for him to be inside me.

  Taylor growls, grabs my waist and turns me onto all fours. His calloused hands engulf my hips, steading me and then I feel him slam into me from behind. A slur of cuss words form beneath my breath, but I hold them in. He moves fast, deep and hard. I’m already on the verge of coming when I hear a creak at the door.

  I glance back, turn and jerk the covers over me. Who, I assume is Trent, is standing at the door. He has a huge ass grin on his face and is holding his baseball bag in one hand and giving Taylor a thumbs up with the other one.

  “Damn it, Trent, get the fuck out, you asshole,” Taylor yells.

  He rolls his eyes. “Oh, calm down. Seriously, though, great job. She is definitely a keeper.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I realize he is the spitting image of Taylor. Lacking the huge muscles, tattoos and a lot younger, but definitely a mini Taylor. “Coach let us out early today. Oh, I’m Trent by the way.”

  “Layla,” I whisper.

  “Get out!”

  Amy comes around the corner and stops, mouth ajar. “Oh, gross. Get a room.”

  “This is my room now get out before Mom comes back here. Now.”

  Trent blows me a kiss before shutting the door. “I think I just died and went to Hell,” I blurt out. “Damn it. I wanted to make a good impression in front of your family, Taylor.”

  He smiles. “It’s not a big deal, Lay. It’s just my brother. They won’t tell, I promise.”

  I huff and start to grabs my clothes. “What do you think you’re doing? Get your ass over here, we’re not finished.”

  I shake my head and grab my underwear, sliding them on. “Later. I don’t want any possibility of them coming back in.”

  Taylor growls, but tugs his clothes back on. “Damn kids,” he mumbles. I almost laugh at his seriousness. It’s too cute. Instead, I yawn and lay back on his bed. “Want to take a nap? You look tired.”

  I eye the bed. Its covers are ruffled from our attempt to get it on, but it looks so inviting. “Yeah, actually I would. Do you mind?”

  He shakes his head and tugs at my hair. “I’ll be in here with my mom. You take a nap. I’ll wake you before dinner.”

  I’m asleep before he shuts the door.

  ***

  When I wake up I sit straight up in Taylor’s bed. The clock beside the bed says it’s only been an hour, but it feels way longer. My entire body feels tired. I rub at my face, careful not to mess up my make-up and stand up. Taylor’s room isn’t far from the kitchen. I can see the light from the cracked bedroom door. I push it open and tip-toe into the kitchen. A faint smell of something burning catches my attention. His mom must be cooking. I round the corner, and I stop short when I see Taylor’s Mom lying on the ground. Oh, God. “Mrs. Jacks,” I yell, running toward her body. A stream of blood is flowing from her head and has made a puddle in the middle of her hardwood floor. Nonono. Where is everyone?

  Shaking, I stand up and search for their phone. I’ve got to call the police. Wh
at in the hell? Who could have done this? Where the fuck is everyone at? I run through the house finding all of the rooms empty. I get to the backdoor where I see Taylor on his knees, and a man standing in front of him. “Taylor?”

  The man looks up at me, a scorpion on his face. Blood is splattered all over his hoodie.

  I scream.

  ***

  A hard shake wakes me up. I’m gasping for breath and clenching the covers in my tight grip. Taylor’s gray eyes are the first thing I see. “Are you okay? Where you having a bad dream?”

  My mouth is dry, but I force the words out of it. “Yes.”

  Taylor rubs his fingers over my face and smooth’s out the worry line in-between my eyebrows. “What about?”

  I don’t tell him. I can’t. So, I shrug. “Nothing particular, just being chased or something…is dinner ready?”

  He frowns but nods. “Yep, come on.” He grabs my hand and leads me to the dining room. The array of different food smells make my stomach growl. The dining room table is covered in food. I see roast, mashed potatoes, green beans and I think that’s a double chocolate cake on the end.

  It reminds me of home. Not my grandma’s house, but my mom’s cooking. When everything was good. When everything was right. “Hope you’re hungry,” Mrs. Jacks says.

  I smile over at her and nod. I try not to relive my nightmare of her dead on the kitchen floor. I try to erase that image. I don’t think I’ll mention it.

  “Yes, ma’am. Starving.”

  “Good, we’ve got plenty. Now, you guys take a seat. I’ll go get your brother and sister.”

  I sit down next to Taylor and ogle the food in front of me. A few seconds later Amy and Trent both walk into the dining room. Amy ignores me, but Trent sits down across from me, a smile across his face. Out of his baseball uniform I see how much he really looks like Taylor. He doesn’t have his hat on and his bone structure, eyes, lips and his eyes all look like Taylor. He is a heart-breaker in the making.