Lusting After Layla

by Theresa Paolo

  They had been on Sweetbriar Road. Think Layla. What was on Sweetbriar Road? She didn’t know. She’d lived in this town her entire life, and she had no idea where he could have taken her. It didn’t matter. They had only walked a short distance. If she could escape, she could run to Sweetbriar Road and look for help. But did she want this guy to track her toward innocent people? What if she put their lives in danger by going there?

  She didn’t know what to do. For the first time in her life, she had no idea what to do. Chase and Brooke went to her because she could figure things out—always came up with a plan and would tackle a situation head on, but now when she needed those skills most, her brain was utterly blank.

  She’d never dealt with a life or death situation like this before, and she had no background on this guy. She had no idea what he was like. He’d threatened to kill her, Declan, and her family. Was he really that evil? She didn’t want to take a chance and test him, but she also didn’t want to be a pathetic damsel in distress who couldn’t get herself out of this.

  Maybe he would fall asleep or need to go somewhere, leaving her alone. Without him and the threat of his gun, she wouldn’t be so scared to run. Right now, all she could think was running and him raising that gun with his so-called perfect shot. She wouldn’t have a prayer in the world to make it out alive.

  He shoved her to the ground. It was wood, no carpet, and she could feel grains of dirt beneath her finger tips. It was freezing, so there was no heat. She could detect the faint smell of burnt wood lingering in the air, which made her think there was a fireplace nearby.

  “How do you know Declan will even care that you have me?” she asked. For the most part they had kept their relationship quiet, other than at Calhoun’s the other night and the Fall Festival. Had he been following them? Watching them? The thought made her sick.

  “Oh, he’ll care all right. He’s always been soft, just like his old man. He would be too pleased to offer himself up in exchange for you. Playing the knight in shinning armor card like he’s some sort of god.”

  “I don’t understand. If you wanted him, why did you take me?”

  “It’s simple. I like to play with my victims before I kill them. I want Declan to feel helpless just like I did when I was thrown behind bars. I want him to feel desperate and hopeless. Then I’m going to make him think that he saved you.”

  “What do you mean make him think?”

  “Let’s find out shall we.” She heard the sound of duct tape just before it smacked against her mouth. “Can’t have you interrupting me while I call him.”

  She tried to talk, but it was no use. Her words were a mumbled mess of nothingness. She’d lost her sight and now her ability to speak. A tear slipped from her eye as defeat weighed down on her like an immovable brick wall.

  She wanted to believe Declan would find her, but if he did, they were both as good as dead.

  Chapter 20

  Declan’s heart clenched. He didn’t want to think the worst, even though in his heart he already knew this wasn’t a mix up. Layla was taken, and it was all his fault. Once he proved that, he, Matt, and O’Reilly could come up with a plan to find her. Anger mixed with fear, but he forced the emotions away. Emotions got people killed, and right now he needed to get to Layla before it was too late. He could deal with the rest of the bullshit later.

  Matt pulled his cruiser into the parking lot, and Declan was out of the car before it came to a stop. Layla’s car was there, and nothing looked unusual. He walked around it, trying to find a clue. Anything. On the other side of the car, next to an empty spot lay her scarf. He picked it up, his stomach knotting as he turned to Matt.

  “She was definitely taken,” Declan said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because it’s below fifty-five today.”

  “What do you mean?” Matt asked, a confused glint passing through his green eyes.

  Declan held up Layla’s scarf. “This is her mother’s scarf. She’s worn it every fall and winter for as long as I’ve known her. She wouldn’t have dropped it in a parking lot.” His voice rose as he battled to stay calm. Leaving it at Calhoun’s was different; it was an oversight, but it had been safe where it was. and she was trying to get away from him in a hurry. She wouldn’t have let it fall to the ground in the middle of a parking lot without noticing, and if by some off chance that she had, she would have come back looking for it.

  Matt held his hands up. “Let’s go inside and get as much information as we can.”

  As Declan headed to the door, O’Reilly pulled up not bothering to park in a spot. He jumped out of his car and caught up to them in a few short strides.

  “What do we know so far?” O’Reilly asked, thrusting a hand through his dark auburn hair.

  Declan wasn’t much in the mood for chatting, but O’Reilly needed to know where they stood. “One of the residents spotted Layla being taken from her second floor window.”

  “We’re going to talk to her now to get more information.” Matt glanced at O’Reilly and held out his hand as they moved. “Matt Hayes.”

  O’Reilly took his hand. “Connor O’Reilly. Most people call me O’Reilly.”

  “I just want to make one thing clear,” Matt said. “This is my town, my citizens, and we’re going to do things my way. Got it?”

  “It’s not me you have to worry about,” O’Reilly said, shooting his attention to Declan. Declan ignored him and stormed through the lobby. He didn’t have time for laying ground rules; he needed to get his girl back.

  Troy stood up at the front desk as they plowed through the lobby. “Where is the resident?” Declan asked with no preamble.

  “Second floor.” Troy pointed to the elevator. Declan was relieved he didn’t insist they sign the stupid book, but it probably helped that he was flanked by Matt in his sheriff’s uniform.

  Declan took the same path he’d taken when he stopped by to give Layla the exact scarf that he was holding now. He got on the elevator, and Matt and O’Reilly squeezed inside with him. With their bulky frames it was a tight fit.

  The ride up was probably no more than thirty seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Every second he wasn’t out looking for Layla was a second wasted.

  The elevator binged, and he rushed off. He heard commotion by the nurse’s station. Freida’s hands were going and a redheaded nurse, who Declan assumed was Maxine, tried to calm her with soothing words and hand gestures. Freida spotted them, relief evident in the wrinkles of her face.

  Declan came to an abrupt stop as Freida rolled up on them. “It’s about time!” she yelled. “I could have run a marathon in the amount of time it took you to show up!”

  “Freida.” Declan raised his hands in an act to calm her. He needed as many details as possible and wouldn’t be able to get them if she was riled up. “Are you the one who saw Layla being taken?”

  “I was at the window in my room, looking at my horrible view of the parking lot when I saw Layla walking to her car. I was about to turn away because I was mad at her, but that’s not important, when I saw a guy go up behind her and grab her! His hand went around her mouth, and he forced her to another car.”

  “What did he look like?” Matt asked, and Freida looked at him with disdain.

  Freida took Declan’s hand. “Tell me I can trust him.”

  Declan had no idea why Freida would think she couldn’t but maybe she had a thing about cops because of her past. Matt was a good guy though. “I’m trusting him,” Declan said. What other choice did he have at this point? He had no resources, and the only account he had was from an eighty-seven-year-old woman who happened to see the whole thing go down from her second floor window.

  “Then I guess that’s good enough for me.”

  “I will find her,” Matt said. “Now tell me everything you remember. Details of the car, the man who took her…”

  “It was a black car with a white sticker on the right side of the bumper. I only remember because I was trying to see wh
at it said. Probably something stupid like my kid’s an honor student, but I couldn’t make it out. The guy had a black leather vest on with a patch on the back, but I couldn’t make that out either. His hair was black.”

  Declan’s heart sank. He had no doubt now. It was Trigger. The guy didn’t even wear a hat and attempt to be inconspicuous. It was as if he wanted to be seen so Declan would get the message that he was in town.

  Matt radioed in to the station. “Martha, I have more information to add to the ATL. We have reason to believe she is in a black car with a white bumper sticker on the right rear bumper driven by a white male with black hair believed to be wearing a leather vest.”

  “Why the hell are we still standing here? Let's go!" Freida said, putting her hand in the air while her other hand pushed on the wheel of her wheelchair. Decan wished Layla was here to see how much this woman cared for her.

  Matt crossed his arms, stepping in front of her, an authoritative air radiating from him. “You're not going anywhere.”

  “The hell I'm not! Our girl needs us, and I’m not going to sit around, twiddling my thumbs when I can be out doing something.”

  “You did enough,” Matt said. “You gave us the information we needed. We’ll find her.”

  Freida turned to Matt, finger pointing with conviction. “I will have your balls on a plate with hot sauce if you don’t.”

  Declan could hear the frustration in her tone. It was something he felt, too. He was getting anxious and feeling helpless. He started pacing, needing to do something or he was going to explode. He understood there was protocol that needed to be followed, but they had the information they needed. Declan needed to be out on the streets, looking for her.

  His phone vibrated, and he fished it out. Layla’s name flashed on his screen, and he fumbled to answer it.

  “Layla, where are you?” he said in one fast breath, turning around a corner into a hallway.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Every hair on his body stood up. His jaw tensed, his body stiffened, and acid turned in his stomach.

  “Don’t you fucking touch her,” Declan growled into the receiver, making sure his voice didn’t raise. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

  “Listen to the hostility. That’s no way to talk to one of your brothers.”

  “You’re not my brother,” Declan spat. “And we both know your problem is with me, so tell me where you are, and you can do whatever you want with me, but let her go.”

  “And why should I trust you? You already screwed me over once. You think I’m fool enough to let you do it again?”

  “I’m done playing games. I just want this to end. You want me dead, then fine. It’s the ultimate punishment for my crimes against the club, and I’m ready to pay my dues.”

  No one else needed to get involved. He created this mess and he would finish it once and for all.

  “I’m at a hunting cabin in the woods at the end of Sweetbriar. Come alone, and no games, or your precious little girlfriend dies.”

  “How do I know she’s not already dead?” The thought clawed and twisted Declan’s gut, but he kept his tone even, refusing to let Trigger know the depths of his fear.

  “You’re going to have to trust me.”

  “No, I want to talk to her,” Declan demanded. Trusting Trigger was as dumb as trusting a lion who hadn’t eaten in a month. There was no way in hell he’d take his word for it. If he could just hear Layla’s voice, know she was okay, it would give him a little hope to hold onto, and right now he was desperate.

  “I don’t care what you want.” The line went dead, and Declan closed his eyes.

  Frustration and distress surged through him in a maddening rush. All he wanted was to hear Layla’s voice to know she was okay. He might very well be walking into a deathtrap, but as far as he was concerned, he had no other choice.

  He looked back at Matt and O’Reilly still talking to Freida. Ethel and Arthur had joined the conversation, and neither of them noticed Declan as he slipped into the stairwell.

  This was no longer about survival. This was about saving Layla, and he was going to do whatever he had to in order to make sure she survived. If he died in the process, that was a risk he was willing to accept.

  Chapter 21

  Silence consumed Layla. It was nothing like the quiet stillness of being home alone. It was something else entirely. It surrounded her, consumed her. This silence was so loud it was deafening. Her heart slammed helplessly against her chest, her breaths sawing in and out in shaky gasps.

  Every sound was heightened, every emotion running through her, impossible to ignore. Her nerves were like rubber bands pulled too tight, ready to snap at any moment. Were these what her final moments would be like? Deadly silence?

  She had heard Trigger on the phone with Declan. She wanted to scream and yell, plead with him not to come, but there was no use. Her words wouldn’t be heard, her cries would go undetected, muffled by the suffocating tape over her lips.

  She sniffled back the rising emotion and fought the defeat that had weighed her down, trying to find the courage to stay strong.

  After a life of one unfortunate event after another, she didn’t want to die thinking about the bad. She’d dealt with enough crap in her life, and she wanted to go out remembering the good, so she focused on the memories that made her smile, filled her with joy, and gave her a fake sense of calm. Right now, she needed that calm more than ever.

  Visions of her and Jax racing through the corn maze at the Fall Festival popped into her head. She missed her brother. It had been years since she’d seen him, and now, she never would again. She wondered if he’d at least come home for her funeral or if he’d leave Chase and Brooke to deal with it on their own because he was on some special ops mission he couldn’t get out of.

  She pushed the thought away. She couldn’t think about that. Wouldn’t. She closed her eyes again, even if it was pointless since she couldn’t see a thing with them open, but for some reason, letting her lids slip shut gave her a false sense of security. Whatever she saw in her mind was safe from the beast that roamed somewhere near.

  Chase popped into her mind next. The first time she saw him in his firefighter uniform… She had never been so proud of anyone or anything in her life. Despite all the hurdles, he’d made something of himself. And now he would get married, and she wouldn’t get to see him stand at the end of the aisle as his future wife walked toward him. She’d miss the engagement party if they decided to have one, the bridal shower, helping him with his bow tie. He never could seem to figure those things out.

  Another tear slipped, and she popped her eyes opened, but she was met with darkness. Staring at the blackness was worse so she forced her eyes shut again. This time it was Brooke. They sat on the couch talking about their days. Layla sipped her coffee and listened as Brooke gabbed about the latest celebrity red carpet and all the designer dresses. Now Brooke was off living her dream, styling for the biggest actress in the world. At least Layla would die knowing Brooke had finally found her calling in life. Not being able to afford college hadn’t stripped her of the dreams she’d sought.

  Images of Brooke faded and morphed. She was in Calhoun’s, watching Declan man the bar while she poured herself another cup of coffee. Pain slashed through her heart. If something happened to her… Jax had the marines. Chase had Bex and Brooke had Tyler. They all had each other. But Declan… He’d have no one, and that thought alone was almost too much for her to bear. He’d been through hell, and she may never know to what extent.

  She should have asked more questions, pushed harder for him to open up to her. She hated that she would die and never truly know the man she loved. Because she did love him. With every fiber of her being she loved him.

  She might not have known everything about his past, or even his real name, but none of that mattered to her. She fell in love with the mysterious biker behind the bar a long time ago, despite his ability to dodge a question and bear his soul. Every day
they’d spent together had been something she had never seen for herself. Her love for him had only grown.

  She didn’t care about what he went through before he came to Red Maple Falls. All she cared about was that out of all the towns in the world, he came into hers. She’d never believed in fate; if such a thing were real then why did Mom die and why was Dad the way he was? Losing both parents by the age of twenty was not her idea of destiny, but now thinking about Declan, it had to be fate.

  She remembered that first day when she’d mistakenly walked into Calhoun’s, not realizing it wasn’t open. The hot rugged biker with the scruffy beard who stood behind the bar with dark eyes.

  He could’ve sent her on her way, but instead, he let her sit and have a cup of coffee. It was the start of something great. A seed had been planted that night, and now just as it was blooming into something beautiful, it was getting ripped away from her.

  Thick boots stomped across the wood floor, cutting her from her thoughts. A hand snatched her hair and yanked her up to her feet. “It’s showtime!”

  Chapter 22

  Declan pulled up behind the car that fit Freida’s description. He had stuck to the back roads, avoiding the crowds around the Fall Festival. He didn’t want to draw any attention to himself, especially since he’d basically committed grand theft auto. That would teach O’Reilly to leave the keys in the ignition.

  He checked the glovebox and found exactly what he was looking for. He tucked the gun in the back of his pants and headed into the woods until he saw the old hunting cabin. He reached into the inner pocket of his leather coat and set his plan into motion.

  His senses were on high alert, his ears pricked and focused on everything from a flutter of a leaf to a squirrel racing up a tree.

  If this was a trap, he needed to get to Layla and see she was okay before he was taken out.

  Unfortunately, there was no sneaking in. Trigger would see him, and if he tried something fishy, Declan wouldn’t hold it past him to kill him for trying to defy him, or worse… kill Layla in front of him.