by Kaylee Ryan
“Damn right,” I agree.
“Hopefully, we can get these contracts signed today and get this deal done. I’m tired of dealing with these people.”
“You’re not the only one. We’ve put a lot of resources and time into this deal. I’m ready for it to be finished and off our plate.”
“Right on.”
The rest of the drive we talk about the deal, and what’s next for Riggins. We’ve opened several new hubs all over the United States, and we want to keep growing. Riggins Enterprises is our family’s legacy. I know that all five of us wish to one day pass it onto our kids like our father did with us. Well, I know Royce and I, and I’m sure the others will too, once they settle down and really start to think about their future beyond what’s going on that weekend.
As soon as we pull into the lot, I send Layla a text.
Me: We just got here. How are you feeling?
Layla: Better. Do your thing, Riggins. I promise I’m fine.
Me: I love you.
Layla: I love you too.
I slide my phone into the pocket of my suit jacket and climb out of the SUV. Time to put on my CFO hat and get this done.
Chapter 26
Layla
My stomach rolls with a mix of guilt and nausea. The images that are locked in my bottom desk drawer make me want to be sick, and of course, there’s the truth that I’m keeping from Owen. I don’t know how to handle this. I’m not giving into my mother’s demands, but those pictures…. I place my hand on my stomach, hoping that will ward off the nausea. I don’t know how she got those pictures. Pictures of me in my apartment in Florida, and at our home in Indiana. Pictures of me in the shower, of me in my room. Naked pictures. My own mother was spying on me, and she said I was making her money.
Is she selling them?
I have to swallow back the bile that creeps up in my throat.
I can’t bring all of this on Owen. His family. They’re good people, and they don’t need the bad publicity that this is sure to bring their family or Riggins Enterprises. The thought of hurting them tears me up inside. Even more so, the thought of walking away from Owen because of my vile mother has me an emotional mess. I can’t do it. I won’t give her money, and I don’t want to walk away from Owen or his family, or this job. I just need some time to figure out how to beat her at her own game. I need some time to try and stop her.
Maybe I could go to the police?
No, that’s not an option. The entire situation would be plastered all over the six o’clock news.
“Think, Layla, think,” I mumble under my breath.
“You doing all right?” Marshall asks, startling me.
“You scared me,” I say, placing my hand over my chest.
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “How you feeling?”
I sigh. “That brother of yours told you to check up on me, didn’t he?”
“He’s worried about you.”
“I know he is. I’m fine, Marshall. I promise. I just have a headache that doesn’t seem to want to go away today.” Probably because my mother is trying to blackmail me, but I keep that to myself.
“Can I get you anything?”
I smile at him. “No, but thank you.”
“All right, I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
“Thank you, Marshall.” He nods and turns to head back to his office. I can’t concentrate, and part of it is the headache that my mother has caused. It’s just a waiting game now. Every single time the phone rings, I jump, and fear grabs a hold of me, thinking it will be her.
I manage to spend the morning getting caught up on emails and rescheduling a few meetings. It’s not much, but at least it’s something. When the phone rings a few minutes before noon, I feel it in the pit of my stomach. It’s her.
“Riggins Enterprises, this is Layla.”
“You got my package?” my mother's raspy voice greets me.
“Yes. Where did you get those?”
She laughs. The sound is pure evil, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. “Little girl, I told you. You’ve been making me money.”
“What does that mean?”
“When you turned eighteen, I lost the money that the state was giving me for putting up with you, so I had to improvise.”
“What money?”
She cackles. “Welfare, little girl. I got paid to keep you.”
“Then why didn’t we have food or clothes?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“You had a roof over your head, you ungrateful bitch. I needed the rest of that money.”
“For drugs? For booze? I’m your daughter,” I say, my voice growing stronger as my anger takes route.
“You had no idea that we recorded you. We get a pretty penny for your showers on the internet.”
“W-What?” I choke out over the lump in my throat. “What do you mean?”
“I mean those are pictures of the videos we stream of you. Don’t worry, doll. We don’t show your face. At least not yet. If you don’t get me my money, I’ll have your face plastered all over the internet. What do you think your little billionaire and his family will think about you then?”
“I hate you.” The words fly out of my mouth. “Why are you doing this to me? You’re my mother.”
“You were income, little girl—nothing more, nothing less. And now you’re going to be my big payday. I want a million dollars cash by the end of the day on Sunday, or we tell the world who you are.”
“I can’t get that kind of money.”
“Figure it out.”
“N-No. I won’t do it. I won’t take from him, or any of them to feed your habit.”
“You will do as I say.”
“I’m an adult. You can no longer control me. Go fuck yourself,” I say, slamming the phone down on the base. I’m breathing heavy, and my heart is pounding so hard I’m afraid it might beat right out of my chest.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath in and slowly exhale. I repeat this over and over until I feel as though I have control. That’s when the reality of my situation sets in. She’s going to expose me for something I’m not. I need to decide what to do.
I don’t know how I’m going to face Owen and his family. On the other side, I can’t leave them either.
I’m going to fight back. That’s my only choice. Leaving Owen isn’t something I’m willing to do. Not without giving him the chance to decide for himself. I should be selfless and leave, but I love him too much.
I need to get my thoughts in order. Then I’ll go to the police. I’ll tell them everything, surely, they can help me. It’s going to get out one way or the other. I refuse to take money from Owen or his family, not for her. Not like this. I just hope Owen and his family understands, and they’re still here with me when this is all said and done. I’m going to embarrass them, and it’s going to look bad on Riggins Enterprises. I know the chances are slim, but it’s a chance I have to take. They’re more family to me than my own mother, and if they ask me to leave, I’ll go quietly.
I’ve never been happier than my time here in Nashville. I’m not giving that up unless I have to. I need to figure out how to tell them. Maybe after I go to the police, then I’ll know more of how this is going to be handled, and maybe if I plead with the police, they can keep it out of the media. I’m a minor in some of those images and videos. My stomach rolls yet again, thinking about the perverts who’ve been watching me online. Even if there are not videos, she has the pictures.
I refuse to remain a victim of my circumstances of my mother. It’s time to fight back. At least I’ll know I stood up for what was right. I just hope I don’t destroy my heart and happiness in the process.
Picking up my phone, I call Marshall. I could walk back to his office, but I don’t want to see him or Sawyer. I just need to get out of here. “Layla,” he greets me. His voice is harder than usual.
“Hi, Marshall. I’m not feeling well. I’m going to go on home. Can you tell Owen for me if he comes back to the
office?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just think I need to lie down.”
“You need me to drive you?”
“No, that’s okay.” Shit, I forgot I don’t have a car here.
“Take Owen’s car. He rode with Royce. We’ll make sure he gets home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. You know he would rather you do that than Uber.”
“Thanks, Marshall.”
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.
“I’m sure. I’ll see you on Monday, if not before then.”
“Text me and let me know you make it home okay.”
“Will do. Bye.” I end the call.
Grabbing my purse, I make sure I have the spare set of car keys for each of Owen’s cars that he insisted I have. Luckily, I find them in the bottom of my purse. Next, I unlock my bottom drawer and retrieve the envelope that has the pictures. The evidence that I’ll be presenting to the police later this afternoon.
I just need a minute to myself. To process what’s going on, and how I might lose the love of my life and his family over this.
Chapter 27
Marshall
I told myself that I wasn’t going to hover over Layla today. Owen and Royce are protective of their women. If she says she’s fine, she’s fine. However, I told him I would take care of her, and I meant it. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s lunchtime. Saving the document I’m working on, I head to Layla’s desk to see if she feels like eating anything.
I stop when I hear her voice. “I hate you.” I’ve never heard Layla talk like that, and the venom in her voice tells me she means those three words with everything inside her.
“I can’t get that kind of money,” she says.
Who in the fuck is she talking to? She’s obviously on the phone since I don’t hear another voice.
“N-No. I won’t do it. I won’t take from him, or any of them to feed your habit.”
Him? Is she talking about Owen? I move a little closer to try and get a look at her desk. Sure enough, she’s on the phone. Her hand is pressed to her forehead, and she’s visibly upset.
“I’m an adult. You can no longer control me. Go fuck yourself.” She slams down the phone, and I’m ready to go to her to see what the hell is going on, but give her a minute to compose herself. When she picks up the phone again, and I hear my desk phone ringing in the distance, as quickly and quietly as I can, I rush back to my office.
I get to the phone in time to have her tell me she’s not feeling well after all, and that she’s going home. I remind her that she rode with Owen, and insist that she take his car, that I’ll make sure he gets home to her. I know O gave her keys. He was bitching the other day that she wanted to buy a car when he has one that she can drive. I get her wanting her independence, and so does he. He just wants to take care of her.
“Text me and let me know you make it home okay.”
“Will do. Bye.”
Ending the call, I stand at my office door and listen for the elevator. Her heels click against the floor, the door whoosh open, and then silence. My feet carry me back to my desk, and I call Sawyer. “Hey, Sawyer. Layla had to go home today. She’s not feeling well.”
“Really? I’m such a bad friend. I’ve been buried in work all morning trying to get caught up before next week I didn’t even realize.”
“Headache,” I tell her.
“Oh, well, I’ll save what I’m working on and move to her desk.”
“Thanks. I’m actually heading out for the day. Something came up.”
“I see how it is. Everyone leaves me all alone.”
“There’s security downstairs,” I remind her. “No one is getting to this floor unless they are approved.”
“Oh, I know. I was just kidding. I’ll see you Sunday for dinner?” she asks.
“I’ll be there,” I assure her before ending the call. Turning off my computer, I grab my phone and keys and head out. Once I’m in my car, I head to Royce’s house. I call him on the way.
“Hey, what’s up?” he asks.
“You still with Owen?”
“Yeah, we actually just finished up our meeting.”
“Good. I’ll meet the three of you at your place.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you when you get there. Just make sure you bring Owen, and Grant too. I’m calling Conrad.”
“Is it Mom and Dad?” There is worry in his tone.
“No. But we need to rally, brother.”
“Noted. We’re on our way.”
The line goes dead, so I call Conrad. “Hey, Con,” I say when he answers.
“What’s up?”
“You still working with Dad today?”
“No, we just finished up. The old man can still work like he’s in his twenties.” Conrad laughs.
“No doubt. Hey, can you meet up with us over at Royce’s place?”
“Sure, what’s up?” His voice changes. He knows me well enough to know if I’m not joking around, it’s serious.
“Just meet us there. I’ll explain when I get there. I think it would be easier to do it once.”
“I was just with Mom and Dad, who is it?” he asks.
“Layla.”
“Fuck. Does O know?”
“No, and I’m not exactly sure what we’re dealing with, but we need to rally.”
“I’m on my way,” Conrad assures me before the line goes dead.
I want to be there when they get there, so I push the pedal a little further to the floor. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know without a doubt that we’re going to get to the bottom of it.
You don’t mess with a Riggins and get away with it.
Chapter 28
Owen
“Who was that?” I ask Royce.
“Marshall. He wants us all to meet him at my place.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road.
“Did he say why?”
“Nope.”
He’s not telling me something. Realizing I’m not getting anywhere, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Marshall. “What’s up?” he greets me.
“What’s going on?”
“Just need to talk to you all.” He evades my question.
“How was Layla?”
“She left about fifteen minutes ago. She took your car. She said she just wanted to go home and rest,” Marshall explains.
“Fuck, I knew I should have just skipped today.”
“She said she would text me when she gets home.”
“Did she?”
“No,” he admits. “But she looked exhausted. I’m sure she just went home and went to bed.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. All right, we’re almost at Royce’s, you there?”
“Just pulled in.”
“See ya soon.” I end the call and debate on calling Layla. If what Marshall said is right, she’s sleeping, and I don’t want to disturb her. I know she’s not feeling well. I decide to send her a text. If she’s up, she’ll reply.
Me: Did you make it home okay? How are you feeling?”
By the time we pull into Royce’s driveway, she hasn’t replied. I tell myself it’s because she’s asleep, but I can’t help but worry about her. As soon as we find out what Marshall needs to talk to us about, one of these fuckers is taking me home to her.
Royce parks his truck beside Marshall’s, who is parked in front of Conrad. Grant, Royce, and I climb out of the truck, and I’m the first to ask. “What’s going on?”
“Let’s go inside,” Marshall suggests.
“You okay, brother?” Grant asks him.
“Yeah.” His reply is not all that convincing, so we follow him inside, waiting to see what bomb he’s going to drop on us.
“Let’s hear it,” Royce says once we’re all settled in his living room.
Marshall looks at me. His gaze is intense. “O, I overheard Layla on the phone today at the office.”
“Okay?” I ask calmly,
even though the idea of whatever this is involving Layla has me on high alert.
“She was talking to her mom,” Marshall says, keeping his eyes locked on mine.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
“I only heard Layla’s side of the call, but she told her she couldn’t get that kind of money.”
“Son of a bitch,” Royce seethes. “What is it with people using us for money?”
“That’s not Layla,” I say, getting in his face.
“Whoa, I didn’t say it was. However, her bitch of a mother seems to have no issue with it,” Royce replies.
“I don’t have details. Layla was pretty upset, so I didn’t call her out on it. I wanted all of you to know first so we can get a game plan together.”
“I need to go home,” I say, running my fingers through my hair.
“I agree,” Marshall says. “She’s upset, and I’m sure she needs you. But we all want to be there for her. The two of you aren’t dealing with this crazy psycho on your own.”
“What he said,” Conrad chimes in. “What do you need?”
“Fuck, I don’t know. Layla. I just need to see her.”
“Have you met her mom?” Grant asks.
“Fuck no. Layla left home the day she turned eighteen and never looked back.” I go on to tell them what I know of her life before Florida. I hate that I’m betraying her trust by telling them, but these are my brothers. They’re standing here with me, willing to go to battle if that’s what it takes. They love her too.
“I think we need to go talk to her. Get her to tell us what’s going on, and we can form a plan from there.”
“We should call the police,” Conrad suggests.
“Probably,” Marshall agrees. “But, I think we need to talk to her first. We don’t want to steamroll over her.”
“I’ll do what I have to do to keep her safe,” I tell them.
“We got you, brother.” Royce’s hand grips my shoulder. His phone rings and his eyes light up when he looks at the screen. “Hey, babe.” He listens. “Yeah, I’m with my brothers at our place. Layla had a call from her mom, and we’re going over to talk to her. Can you go to Mom and Dad’s? We don’t really know what we’re dealing with, and I’d rather you not be here alone.”
