Roses for Layla (The Sweetheart Series Book 1)

by Ash Night

  Roses for Layla

  Ash Night

  Chapter One

  Layla

  The waves crashed against the shore as I gazed at the night sky. God, I hated this place. It was beautiful, with white sand stretching as far as the eye could see. Beauty made me want to smash things. I didn’t deserve beauty. I deserved pain. After everything I had done to survive, pain was all I deserved.

  Beauty be damned.

  Brushing a strand of golden blonde hair behind my ear, I contemplated my next move for the hundredth time. A sharp ache in my ribs made it clear. I had to run. The situation was getting out of control. My situations tended to get out of control a lot. That was what I got for dating drug dealers. The drugs were almost worth the abuse. And the fact that I thought that was what was truly fucked up.

  My vision blurred for a second as I stood up, taking one last drag from my cigarette before stamping it out on the railing of the balcony. Everything hurt. This wasn’t the first time I’d felt like this. You’d think I’d be used to it. Taking one last look at the Pacific Ocean, I silently said my goodbyes.

  For as much as hated it, the ocean really was beautiful. I could see myself swimming in it, spending all day at the beach, not a care in the world, as if I were a normal girl who didn’t need drugs to survive. Seven hours and the shakes were already starting.

  If I was going to do this, I needed a fix. Fumbling around in the dark, I headed to the bathroom. There was already a needle on the edge of the sink, ready and waiting for me. Searching for a vein was like trying to find a piece of hay in a pile of needles while all the needles were screaming. My whole body was on fire.

  Finally, I found a nice vein in my wrist. Sweet relief washed over me as I injected myself with liquid peace. Every tense muscle relaxed, and the fire cooled. Blinking slowly for a few seconds, I allowed myself to enjoy the feeling before I tiptoed to the bedroom.

  Devin was snoring loud enough to wake the dead. He must have taken some of the good stuff before he’d gone to bed three hours earlier. Good. The bastard could OD for all I cared. Grabbing my duffle bag from under the bed and, being as quiet as possible in the kitchen, I grabbed a couple bags of heroin and a few needles, enough to get through the next couple days if I was smart.

  I went to the safe he kept hidden behind the containers of sugar and flour in the pantry and punched in the code. The lock clicked open and I tossed a few thousand dollars in my bag. Devin wouldn’t miss it if I took it from the back. There were thousands, if not half a million stashed away. As far as I was concerned, he owed me.

  My stomach growled. Holding my breath, I waited. The bed squeaked. Silence. Good. The last thing I needed was another beating. I found an unopened box of granola bars and a small bag of barbecue chips. It wasn’t the best food in the world, but it would have to do. Time to go.

  Fuck, Lilly!

  I dreaded going back into the bedroom but I needed to go back for Lilly. Setting the bag down, I took a deep breath and walked back to the bedroom, barely breathing.

  Devin had rolled over but was still out cold. I flinched inwardly as I looked at him. He disgusted me. Everything he did was disgusting. How he could ever think I loved him was beyond me. The past year and a half had been a lie. I had never loved him. All I cared about was that he had access to drugs. I could never love. That part of me was broken.

  I didn’t want that fixed. It was easier to be broken. It made leaving easier. It made everything easier.

  Lilly, my beat-up pink teddy bear, was lying beside my pillow. I hugged her to me. She was one of those handmade teddy bears. My grandma had made Lilly out of her grandmother’s old pink sweaters back when sweaters were knitted out of yarn. It was the only nice thing my mom had ever given me.

  Making my way out of the bedroom, I put Lilly in my bag, hoisted it onto my shoulder, and slipped on my shoes. As an afterthought, I snagged a banana off the counter before I left out the front door. It was mushy and slightly rotted, probably should have been eaten days ago, but my stomach was happy to have something in it. I hadn’t eaten all day.

  Today had been one of the rare days I wasn’t hustling drugs on the street. Devin had been paranoid today, so I wasn’t allowed to go out. That was fine with me. I’d gotten lost in a book all day, only taking the occasional break to get high enough to stop the words from blurring and the book from shaking. Until Devin’s paranoia had turned on me.

  He’d started yelling about how I was stealing from him. I hadn’t. I’d been a good little girl. I hadn’t stolen from the profitable stash in weeks. Truthfully, I’d been trying to quit.

  He had been doling out my doses ever since I’d moved in with him. They weren’t enough so I used to steal a bit more and replace it with the stuff I hadn’t managed to sell that day. Luckily, Devin was so out of his mind drunk half the time he never caught on.

  I had been cutting my usual doses in half the past few weeks. I was desperate to quit. I didn’t want this life anymore. I wanted out. Every day, peddling in the streets, I saw happy couples or groups of friends just hanging out, enjoying a life that drugs had robbed me of. I wanted happiness. I wasn’t sure if I deserved it yet, but I wanted it.

  Thunder boomed overhead. Shit, I was an idiot. I should have checked the weather before I left. The downpour of rain soaked through my clothes. Shivering, I ran down the empty street, my bag clanking against my leg. I suddenly felt very exposed, and I hated that feeling.

  The neon lights of an all-night coffee shop shone like a beacon of hope and I rushed toward the doors. The smell and warmth of the coffee shop enveloped me as I walked inside, nearly sliding on the now-soaked tile floor. The torrent of rain and even the thunder seemed farther away within the sanctuary of the shop.

  I looked around. A kid was playing video games online to my right, completely engrossed in his game, a big doughnut with a huge bite taken out of it beside an empty smoothie cup. In the corner to my left was an older gentleman sipping coffee as he read the morning paper. The date was today’s date. Or yesterday’s. The rain and overcast sky made it impossible to tell what time it was.

  The male barista smiled at me. He was good-looking, tall, short light brown hair, deep blue eyes. “Sure is pourin’ out there. Can I get you anything, miss?”

  I attempted a fake smile. I wasn’t that good at it. I didn’t smile a lot these days. “Vanilla latte, please.”

  He nodded. “Coming right up. Got a name?”

  Why would he need my name? It wasn’t anywhere near busy enough to need to write my name on the cup. The level of testosterone inside the coffee shop was setting me on edge.

  “Kate,” I lied. Kate was my best friend from high school. I still remembered her face when I told her I was dropping out a few weeks into senior year. She felt betrayed. We had made plans to go off to NYU together, live it up in our dorm, go to exciting parties, and date hot college guys that our parents would never approve of. Instead, I spent the next year squatting alone in an abandoned house, doing other things my parents wouldn’t approve of.

  I hadn’t seen Kate in a long time. She’d tried to reach out to me once when she saw me digging through a restaurant Dumpster for food. Her mom had pulled her away from me before I could even get two words out. Her mom, who had loved me like her own since I was little, now considered me the devil. Like I was some contagious disease her daughter could catch. Her eyes told me what I already knew. One look at the track marks on my arm and the wild look in my eyes and she knew I was someone dangerous.

  After that, I kept to myself. I never gave out my real name, and never the same name twice. To Devin, I was Maddie. To the guy before that, I was Beth. Somet
imes I’d find myself repeating my real name when I was alone just so I was sure I hadn’t forgotten it.

  “One vanilla latte for Kate,” the barista said once he finished making it a few minutes later, keeping a big smile on his face. A smile could hold a thousand lies. I didn’t trust him, even if he was just being friendly.

  “Thanks,” I replied, taking my drink.

  “Let me know if you need anything else,”

  “I will,” I said curtly. Sipping my drink, I debated the pros and cons of staying here. Pro: it was dry in here. Con: I was the only girl in here.

  I did not like those odds. While I was no push-over, and knew that I could at least take on the old man, I was still in a room with two younger guys. Smiley Barista and Video Game Kid. Video Game Kid still hadn’t looked up from his video game. Smiley Barista had his back turned, cleaning the espresso machine. I was so focused on watching them, I practically jumped out of my skin when the bell above the door dinged. How had I not noticed that bell before?

  “Hey, Jacob! I’m so glad you’re here. It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever!” A girl walked in, her red hair dripping with rainwater. She sat down on a stool next to me at the counter even though there were at least five other seats to choose from and quickly wiped her black glasses off on her shirt. “Wouldn’t happen to have a hairdryer back there, would ya?” she joked, setting her glasses back in place.

  “Nope, sorry, Miley. But you’re welcome to stay and wait out the storm. That’s what all the other customers are doing,” Smiley Barista, aka Jacob, said. “Now, why does it feel like you haven’t seen me in forever? It’s only been two days.”

  Miley opened her messenger bag and pulled out a napkin. “I was working on some lyrics.”

  Jacob seemed delighted. “That’s awesome! Can I hear some of it?”

  “Well…” Miley blushed. “If no one minds.” She turned to me expectantly.

  I scoffed. This ought to be good. “Sure, why not?”

  “Yo, Ryan, Edward, mind if Miley sings a bit?” Jacob asked.

  “Not at all, little lady, go right ahead. Music makes the world go ‘round, after all.” The old man in the back said. I assumed he was Edward.

  “Go ahead, Miley. You’re amazing.” Video Game Kid said, finally taking off his headphones.

  “Thanks for the encouragement, guys. The song isn’t finished, but here’s what I have so far.” Miley replied, turning on her stool to face everyone. She winked at Ryan. He smiled like he was embarrassed. Folding her glasses, she set them on the counter and took a breath before she began.

  I can see it in those clear blue eyes. Something I don’t want to see.

  Something tells me all our happy days have passed. My heart is breaking, aching, waiting for you to tell me. Why won’t you tell me?

  I can’t take it anymore.

  Why won’t you just say it?

  Hang it on the wall like the pictures we used to know

  Happy smiles, now dying embers in the cold, cold winter snow

  As you finally tell me what I already know!

  I blinked in surprise, stunned, as the three guys clapped. How did that come out of her? She was tiny and fragile-looking, like a baby bird, so that power shouldn’t have been able to come out of her, but it had. I’d heard it with my own ears.

  “So? Did you like it?” Miley asked, looking at me as if my approval, a complete stranger’s, mattered more than anything in the world to her.

  “Yes, it was amazing,” I said truthfully. It felt good to tell the truth for once. I usually lied, especially about things like that. Despite my hard exterior, I didn’t ever want to intentionally hurt someone’s feelings when it came to their passion. I knew how that felt all too well.

  “Really? Thank you so much!” Suddenly, Miley’s arms were around me in a warm hug. I froze, unsure of what to do. I wasn’t used to being hugged. She let go, smiling. “Sorry, I’m a hugger and sometimes I forget some people aren’t. My name is Miley. What’s yours?”

  “Kate,” I said, the lie rolling off my tongue like silk. She must have noticed how my eyes kept shifting from the guys to the door.

  “It’s okay. I know these guys. They’re harmless. Just don’t challenge Edward to a video game. I once played against him in a game called Skyland Warfare and he trashed me so fast my head spun.”

  “Edward’s the kid?” I asked.

  Miley laughed. “Yup, kind of a kick, isn’t it? Ryan is the man reading the newspaper. He sits in that exact spot every day at six am sharp before work and reads the newspaper. He’s done that for the past fifty years. Jacob makes sure to always keep that table open for him in the morning.”

  “He still works?” Was there anything in this coffee shop that wasn’t going to surprise me?

  “Yup. Ryan may look old, but he’s young at heart. He’s pushing seventy, but still holds a job as an accountant. It was what he went to college for when he was seventeen. He loves his job. Says he couldn’t imagine leaving.”

  “Wow, that’s a long time.” I felt myself start to relax. It was a strange feeling. This Miley girl had a very calming presence. Now that I was relaxed, I could actually taste my latte. It was really good. My stomach growled.

  Jacob laughed. “Hungry? I can get you a blueberry muffin or something from last night’s shipment.”

  “No, I’m fine.” I said, reaching for my bag at my feet and rooting around for the box of granola bars.

  “You don’t have to open that. Open food might ruin your bag. Here,” he insisted, pushing a plate with a muffin already on it towards me. He also took my empty latte cup and refilled it. “It’s on the house,”

  “T-thank you,” I said around the lump in my throat. I wasn’t used to people being so kind to me. I tried not to eat it too impolitely, but I was starving.

  “I know what it’s like to hit hard times. I was homeless for a few months in high school when I was seventeen. My family was broke and we had to sell our car just to afford enough to eat until we got on our feet again. Thankfully, the owner of this coffee shop gave me a job and I was able to help my parents with the deposit on a place. When the owner passed away a few years ago, he left us the shop in his will so now my family runs it.”

  Miley smiled. “Jacob’s a real trooper. He acted like nothing was wrong when he went to school. I had no idea he was homeless at the time.”

  “My smell didn’t give it away?” He laughed. “I had to use baby wipes in place of a shower a few times.”

  “I was wondering why I always had the urge to put a diaper on your face!” I chuckled at Miley’s joke. She grinned. “Knew I could get you to smile!”

  “I was smiling,” I replied.

  “Not a real one. I can tell. It’s my one superpower, aside from eating an entire box of chocolate chunk cookies and not gaining an ounce.”

  “Thanks for everything, really. I should get going.” I said, grabbing my bag and my latte. The rain had stopped and the sun was peering through the clouds.

  “Bye, Kate.”

  I stopped at the door when I heard that name. “Um, this is going to sound totally weird, but I gave a fake name. My real name is Layla. I’m really sorry. It’s a habit.”

  “Layla is such a pretty name! You should use it more often!” Miley exclaimed, not seeming at all offended that I had lied to her.

  Jacob smiled casually. “See ya around, Layla,”

  Blushing, I pushed open the door and walked out as quickly as I could. Even though those nice people weren’t offended, I was extremely embarrassed. As my face cooled, I found myself on the corner of Mason Street and Peter Avenue. This town must really like naming street corners after people. I didn’t know where to go next. I knew there was a park nearby where I could possibly sleep.

  My body was already aching. I held out a trembling hand to inspect it. Sitting down on the sidewalk, I sighed. I wasn’t going to be able to dissolve the heroin and inject it in plain sight. That was like asking for jail time. I just needed
to rest and enjoy the sunshine for a little while. It was so warm!

  Before I knew it, I was curled up into a ball on the sidewalk, using my now-partially dry jacket as a pillow.

  “How can you see into…”

  Instantly, I was alert. Where the hell was I? Who was that singing? I sat up and looked around. My jacket was covering me and a throw pillow was under my head. I was on someone’s couch. The white walls of the room were bare, devoid of anything to give me a clue about where I was. I could smell pancakes.

  My bag was beside the couch on the coffee table. Reaching for it and unzipping it as quietly as I could, I sprinkled a line of heroin on my open palm and snorted it. Not the brightest thing to do in a strange house, but my body was screaming. That would tide me over for a little while. My nose burned, not used to the sensation. I was used to injecting it.

  Putting the rest of my stash away, I walked toward the sound of a male voice. He was still singing a hauntingly beautiful rendition of a familiar song as he stood over the stove, his back to me. His shirtless back. He blew out a wisp of smoke as he turned around, cigarette dangling from his lips. “Hi,”

  “Hi?” It came out a question. His front was just as hot as his back. My mysterious pancake-making kidnapper was all lean hard muscle, chiseled abs, deep dark blue eyes, and short messy black hair.

  “S’pose you’re wondering why you’re in my house,” he said, turning back to the stove and flipping a pancake simply by flicking the pan upwards.

  “Among other things, yes.” I replied, leaning on the door frame. “You disrupted my nap on the sidewalk.”

  “Ah, you see, that’s where you’re wrong,” he said as he added the finished pancake to the stack on the table. Beside it was an equally high plate of waffles. “I didn’t disrupt anything. You kept right on sleepin’.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Do you kidnap every girl you see sleeping on the street?”

  He laughed. “No, just the pretty ones. The others are in the basement.” When I didn’t laugh, he looked mortified. “Geez, I’m sorry! It was a joke. Wow, guess you’ve seen some shit.”