For the Love of Layla

by Callie Moss

Her blood. I pump myself harder, faster. She moaned my name. Called out for me as she came apart in my mouth.

My heart aches knowing this can’t last, that I can’t sleep beside the beautifully frustrating woman that holds my heart captive in her hands. I groan as I stand from the bed, my face aching from where she kneed me earlier. Sweet dreams, little star.

There is no evidence apart from the doctored cut on my arm and the delicate tennis bracelet I woke up wearing. He did exactly what he said he would, cared for me. I woke up this afternoon with a piercing headache, a doctored arm and a freshly cleaned house. He had even cleaned me up…. down there. My cheeks flush florescent red, despite the numbness deep in my chest. I should be disgusted and I am, but mostly with myself. What right do I have to be upset when I enjoyed his touch? When the things he murmured in my ear instilled in me both blinding fear and butterflies?

“You’re in shock.” She insists. But I’m not. I suppose I’m not really fine either. I’m upset and angry. I’m humiliated and scared. I’m also… curious. Which scares me more than any of it.

“You said you didn’t think he wanted to hurt you.” I can hear the skepticism in her voice, I know it makes no sense because he did hurt me. But he also made me feel good. He cleaned me, doctored my wounds, changed the bloody sheets. He cared for me. “Yeah, he was aggressive, sure, but soft.”

You should be more observant. I left you this bracelet over a week ago. I’ll see you soon, lítla ást. Little love in Icelandic. I’ve never even left the state of California. How in the absolute fuck I stole the attention of a stalker that speaks Icelandic well enough to have a heavy accent is beyond me.

How badly I want to run to Liam, to throw myself into his arms and point him in the direction of the man that’s tormenting me. I’m a hypocrite, a freak, and a terrible friend.

Error cameras offline. The security company she used must’ve found them. I lock the screen as my hand tightens around my phone, my reflection taunting me. Now why would you go and do a thing like that, baby? After everything we shared last night. It was perfect, you were perfect. Now you’ve gone and messed it all up.

I raise my eyebrows at him. I know that if I speak now, I’ll say something… incorrect. Not that he would particularly care, Brandon is one of the few that know me. Despite his complaining, it’s never bothered him much either way. “I can’t focus with your Ted Bundy looking ass over there.”

He spent the first money he earned with Curran Enterprises to bail out his mom. He’s bought her a house and paid for her to live ever since. The idea is so…off putting to me. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of killing the woman that birthed me. It’s been that way since that day. Maybe even before.

“Okay then, you drive.” His eyes widen before narrowing, “I am not helping you stalk your ex.” She’s not my fucking ex.

I trust him with my life, but I’d open up his belly with my knife before I’d ever let him inside her home. Let him or anyone else torment her like this. No, this is special between Layla and I. It’s only for us. Does she know that? She took out the cameras. She could be doing anything. With anyone.

“Don’t ever fucking shut me out again! I swear I’ll fucking make you regret it, Layla. I’ll kill everyone you know, everyone! I’ll take you, this freedom you think you have, I can take it. I need you.”

“Shhh, don’t be scared, baby. I would never make you die alone. I’ll come with you. There’s no me without you, Layla Burke. There’s no you without me.”

“Do you love me?” He asks. All I can hear is the fast approaching sirens. I don’t want to die and I don’t want him to die either. “I don’t…I don’t know you.” I answer honestly. There’s something to him, something in his touch that feels right. Comforting. Even now. I need help. Serious fucking help.

“Tell me. Tell me who you are, please.” He adjusts the angle again, pushing it so hard that my skin screams in protest. Oh. He’s holding it like that, so the bullet… hits us both. I let go of him as he presses light kisses into the tip of my nose, “You know the answer to that, Layla, you just won’t fucking admit it.”

Panic takes over me, but for an entirely different reason. A bad reason. I want…to protect him. He’s unwell, he… loves me. Right? “If you go off the left side of the balcony, they won’t see you. You can cut straight into the woods.” His dark eyes widen as he removes the gun from my chin, pressing it into my hand. “See you soon, lítla ást.”

Why did I let him go? Am I that fucking desperate for love? I knew my dad fucked me up, but damn, Layla. I want to know who he is, why he’s doing this. Why me? You’re scared of the answer. Liam…

I can’t shake the familiarity I feel when I’m with him. He feels…good. Impossibly good. The only person who ever felt like that was Liam. It just doesn’t make sense, none if it does.

“What did he do to you?” I can’t help the shaking in my hands or the words that flow to the tip of my tongue. Nothing. Dad was great. Everything is fine. I slipped. Yes, I’m eating okay. No, our water isn’t shut off. It’s just messed up right now. Yeah, I had a shower this week. I swallow them all, every last lie I’ve told for my entire life. Since the first taste of his hatred, I’m going to tell the truth and hope it doesn’t bite me on the ass. “He hated me, I think, and mom. He screamed a lot when he wasn’t too messed up to speak. He only hit me a handful of times, usually just trashed the house.”

“I should’ve paid more attention. He was my son. I didn’t want to think I had failed him so grossly. People wear many faces, Layla. If you leave it up to them to show you the difference between them, you’ll always be in the dark.”

“Mom used to always say that some people were just born bad, that dad was one of those people. No amount of love could change him.

Liam had many faces, which one was he underneath it all? The real Liam… it’s something I’ve asked myself since the first time he slipped up, let me see the cold harsh side of the beautiful copper haired man. A side my stalker seems to have as well. It’s got to be Liam. But why? Why do all of this? Why torment me? He didn’t fight for me when he had the chance. Radio silence for three months and now all of this? Calm down, don’t get ahead of yourself. It’s a theory, nothing more.

If I’m right, and Liam is the one tormenting me…I’m putting myself directly inside the lion’s den. If I’m wrong, I’m putting Liam in danger, putting myself in danger either way.

As scary as the idea of Liam, the man I fell for. One I trusted for six months turning on me like this, tormenting me like this is… sickening and it makes my heart flutter in my chest.

“Calm down, Layla, you’ll have a panic attack. You haven’t filled your prescription in a while.” I feel exposed. Like the floodlights have been turned on and pointed directly at me, nothing is private or sacred. Nothing is off bounds to him. “Baby, I won’t hurt her as long as you play nice. You should know by now that I don’t take disobedience lightly. You’re mine, Layla. Mine. I will rip apart anyone or anything that comes between us. I don’t care if it hurts, I’ll hold you while you work through it. We’ll do it together.”

“The anticipation is killing me, Layla.” “It’s a shame you don’t mean literally.” He scoffs, “Careful what you wish for. Wherever I go, you go.”

Stop it, Layla. Not killing your dog is the bare minimum. You shouldn’t be grateful towards him. Not for anything. This isn’t kindness he’s showing you. He’s inflicting pain…wielding my emotions like a weapon.

“Are you going to cry, baby? Go on, it won’t change anything. We’re going to continue this little dance until you realize how badly you need me. I will bend you until you break, Layla, until there’s nothing left of you but me.”

“On your knees, Layla.” No… “Please.” I can see his lips pull up behind that black mask, “Either you get on your knees and take my cock down that pretty little throat of yours or I’ll take your untrained ass.” I take a deep breath as I lower myself in front of him, my knees pressing hard into the floor as he frees his hardened length. I whimper as he grips my chin tightly, “If you bite me, I will kill us both before I get to decorate your face with my come. What a damn shame that would be.” He’s fucking insane and so am I.

I want his words. His praise. Nothing else matters because in this moment I need it. I need the air he’s keeping from my lungs.

“Because you are mine, Layla…and I…I have always been yours.” Or maybe because you threatened my best friend, but okay. He’s mine… Stop it, you stupid bitch.

I did…only because the ramifications of disobeying him range between playful psychological torture to homicide.

I still want Liam. Badly and all this has done is make me realize just how safe he made me feel.

She rarely closes the curtains, even now. As much as she tries to deny it, she likes that I’m watching her. The fear, the adrenaline she feels… my sweet little star gets off on it.

please don’t do any creepy shit, not tonight.” “I’m not creepy. I’m invested.” I deadpan, knowing damn well I’m a little creepy.

The red not only suits her but it’s a warning… one she apparently didn’t hear loudly enough. I take a deep breath, eyes narrowing on the man she’s talking to, that uncomfortable heat filling my chest. What are they talking about? He’s standing close, too fucking close.

The idea of touching another woman makes me sick. All I want is Layla. Ruining his suit doesn’t feel like an effective enough punishment for the way he looked at my little star, but can’t be killing off benefactors. Tonight has to be perfect.

Tonight is the first major step towards the rest of our lives, little star. Are you ready for me?

Liam never liked to talk about his childhood, only now do I understand why. Witnessing a suicide…it must’ve been awful for him. The article said his nanny had become obsessed with the family. When she was let go, she jumped.

He gives me a small smirk, one that sends heat to my core and jump-starts my wary heart. I can hear my phone vibrating in my bag. I know it’s him. Yet the man on stage isn’t using a phone, of course there are ways around that. Hence why I came tonight.

Pacing myself would probably be the best plan of action, but without the liquid courage I will one hundred percent bitch out.

A blip of panic sears up from deep in my gut. Which is nothing new. If he sees Liam speaking to me, there’s no telling what he’d do. Is he even here? Would I recognize him if he was? I lower my head and then abruptly make a break for it like the coward I am. Heading back towards the bar. I’m not ready to talk to him yet, if my raging heart and sweaty palms are any indication.

I feel small around them. Very small. Like I’m trapped between titans. “Don’t be rude, Liam. I raised you better than that.” She scolds, making Liam’s arm around me tighten painfully. Ohmyfuck. “Right, this is Grace Curran, my mother. Mother meet Lay-” “Yes, yes Layla Burke, your mysterious and evasive fiancée.” She interrupts disdain clear in her eyes, I can’t tell if it’s directed at him or me. Wait, his what? Liam clears his throat as I bite down on my cheek, trying to hide the stupid smile attempting to force its way onto my face.

“Sorry, I don’t see her much. It was just… easier not to tell her we broke up.” His freckled cheeks flush as he runs his hand through his tousled hair. It’s not fair for one person to look like this. “Right. I must’ve missed the part where we got engaged.” I muse as I glance over my shoulder at her, pulling from his hold. “Wishful thinking, sue me.” He snaps, following my gaze. Jesus Christ…

Liquid courage is a doubled-edged sword when it comes to me, and more often than not I end up getting cut.

“Is that what you fucking wore?” He growls, as his blue eyes glide across my skin, making arousal build between my legs. I love it when he gets jealous. It makes me feel so…desired. So needed.

“I’m tired of you going out.” “I’m allowed to have friends outside of you, Liam.” A small yelp leaves my throat as he presses himself into me harder, making the desk bite into my hips. His large hand shoves my heated cheek against the hard surface, “For now.” Huh? “I’m trying, little star, to be reasonable when it comes to you. You’re making it… Very. Fucking. Difficult. I’ve been a mess all night, Layla.”

“Did you talk to any other men, Layla, huh? Did you fucking touch them? You know what I’ll do if I find out you did, baby?” His words send tremors through my taunt, needy body, making me push back into him. He moves back, not letting me slip him inside. I groan, “I didn’t talk to anyone, Liam. Please.”

He’s never… spanked me before. He doesn’t stop either. His hits are rough and punishing, making me cry out with each slap until I’m whimpering beneath him. The stinging flesh doesn’t stop my arousal from dipping down my legs. “Mine.” He growls