For the Love of Layla

by Callie Moss

Why am I crying? Why does this hurt so badly? The number of times I’ve begged the universe to take him… now that it’s happening, I just want to take it all back, but I can’t. He’s dead and I’m free. I’m finally free.

“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.

“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.”

By the time Friday rolls around, I’m not only ignoring his calls but Ava’s as well. Whatever he’s trying to do. Whatever effect he wanted to have on me worked perfectly. I don’t feel like going out. I don’t want to speak to anyone. All of my thoughts revolve around him. Who is he? Why me? What could he possibly achieve by tormenting me?

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.

I know there should be more grief associated with losing a parent, but it comes and goes. One moment I’ll feel glad he’s dead, relieved that there will be no more screaming. No more walking on eggshells, wondering what thing will set him off. The next moment all I can see is the light leave his glossy brown eyes and I can’t stop the tormenting flood of guilt that hits me soon after.

You made a big girl decision, Layla, that comes with big girl consequences. Big girl feelings. Deal with it.

It’s the process of elimination and so far, I only have one suspect. 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. But as horrifying as that would be, the idea of a stranger…is worse.

Unknown: Pretty dress. Hope you’re not planning anything that might make me regret not painting you red the other night. Get fucked.

I never knew…I had no clue the trauma that hid beneath his controlled exterior.

“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.

I’m so…overwhelmed by it all. By the absolute fucktastrophy my life has become in the matter of weeks.

“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.”

“You’re so fucking adorable when you’re mad, baby.”

“Either you get on your knees and take my cock down that pretty little throat of yours or I’ll take your untrained ass.”

“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.

“You look so beautiful sucking on my cock, little love. Do you like that? Gagging around me? You’re making it throb, baby. Fuck, you feel too good.”

I want his words. His praise. Nothing else matters because in this moment I need it.

“I’m not creepy. I’m invested.”

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

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

If you’re ever fortunate enough to find someone that loves you so ferociously, it turns your world inside out with napalm skies. Never let them go.”

“Life is fleeting, Layla. I’m an old man. I’m sure the things I prattle on about must sound silly to you. They would’ve to me at that age.”

That’s how this ends, right? I die, we both die or I…what? Succumb to the Stockholm Syndrome and ride off into the sunset on my stalker’s ridiculously large dick?

Unknown: A psychopath, Layla? You wound me. Layla: Will this ever end? …. Unknown: Of course it ends, how although is entirely up to you. What you did… the things you said it hurt me. Why do you do that? Hurt me?

Layla: They don’t believe me. …. Unknown: Do you believe yourself? The things that you call me? Your tormentor, your stalker… if I’m being honest, I don’t mind what label you attach to me as long as you call me yours. I think you’ll feel better if you’re honest about how I make you feel. We’ll both feel better if you’d open your fucking eyes. You’re smart, Layla, so smart. Ignorance isn’t always bliss.

Layla: Liam? …. Unknown: Stalker, tormentor, Liam… you can call me whatever you want, little love. I’m yours as much as you are mine.

One week since she’s started ignoring me. Acting like I wasn’t there. One fucking week.

It doesn’t matter how I try to provoke her. How many times I text, threaten or call she pretends she can’t see me. I have to be seen by her. Why all of this restraint now? After she was getting so close, she knows it’s me. She has to. My sweet little star… what the fuck are you doing to me?

I’ll admit, I hadn’t expected Layla to request information about me. Not that it bothers me, it’s easier this way her finding out the less than savory aspects of what made me instead of us having a long conversation where I won’t know the correct things to say ninety percent of the time.

The people I would kill for that smile.

If it were up to me, I would’ve driven there days ago and taken her sweet cunt, reminded her how much she needs me, but I have a company to look after and a viper of a mother to contend with.

This is so fucking stupid. And I don’t care, not even a little.

She suspects me. She’s not stupid and I don’t care. There’s one place I belong and my bones and soul ache. Fuck the games I’ve played trying to wiggle my way back to there. Back to her.

I mark her and she sees me stake my claim just the way it always should’ve been.

I don’t speak, I can’t find the words as she grinds into me, her clit rubbing against me hungrily as I fuck her there against the wall.

“It’s too much.” She begs as I continue ramming my cock in and out, her arousal dripping onto my legs. I nip at her soft lips before kissing them roughly, “You’ll take it.”

I inhale his scent deeply one last time before I blow away this peaceful moment. I don’t trust him, I don’t know who he is, never did. God, if he’s not him…that’s even scarier. That means his mere presence here puts his life at risk. Even if he is my stalker…it’s a life I care so deeply about.

I clench my fists together, staring at the hardwood floor as I struggle to stay seated, listening to these pompous cops speak to her like she hasn’t got two brain cells to rub together is wearing on my nerves. Granted, the lack of help from the police only benefits me in the end.

“I was doing some thinking and I don’t think it’s a coincidence Liam only shows back up after your stalker surfaces.”

“He was with me last night when the house was attacked.” She rolls her eyes, “The guy is loaded, Lay. He can afford to pay someone to send a few texts or throw a bottle at a chick’s house. Plus, his hot friend was here earlier. Guy kept looking at me weird, like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. I’ve been around them both before and he was normal, ish.”

I stare at myself in the mirror, my wild curls jerked up in a messy bun high on my head. My nail polish chipped and frayed. I don’t recognize the woman there, the woman that allowed herself to be victimized time and time again. All her life, actually.

The woman that aided in her attackers escape because her fucking daddy didn’t hug her enough. Out of all the violations, this one stings the most I think, taking away my choice.

It’s all become too much. When I storm from the office, I have one singular goal in mind, make him feel just a fraction of what I have. Just a fucking sliver of the torment and absolute bullshit he’s forced me to endure. I’m done, done being his victim. Done with the lies, the games, the small fraction of the picture he’s letting me see.

He’s mine as much as I’m his. He’s said it over and over again. So how far is he willing to go to keep me? How far can I push him?

After I ran from the office, I drove. I drove to the cemetery, past Curran Enterprises. I drove everywhere I could think of waiting for this self-destructive impulse to wean. It didn’t. The more I drove the longer his violation sank into my skin. The more I planned, the more I thought of all the ways I could hurt him for this. For everything.

He would be so ashamed of me. I’m ashamed. That thought should bring tears to my eyes. The bitter truth of those words should have me crumbling in on myself. The only thing it does is throw fuel on the fire already burning me from the inside, melting down every sliver of self-control I had left.