Chapter 8: Layla

He reaches for me, and my shoulders draw closer together as I dip my chin into my chest. His large hands easily encase my small wrist, and he applies pressure that threatens to shatter my bones. A scream that I can no longer keep in is torn from my lips at the same time the front door opens.

He’s taller and broader than I am. I can’t see his features with his black hood up, but I’d know him anywhere. I know that his eyes will be tight around the edges.

My body sags with relief. Everything will be okay now. Jared is two years older than me, but right now, he’s like a giant filling the doorway. Bert releases me and is focused on the door.

"Get away from her." Jared speaks each word through heavy breaths. Bert spins toward him, and Jared’s body stiffens. A new fear enters my system; the dread drips slowly down my spine. What if Jared got hurt this time? The thought pulls a whimper from my lips.

"It’s okay, Layla." Jared’s reassurance is spoken as he stares at Bert. All I can do is nod at him.

"It’s okay, Layla," Bert mimics, and he sneers as he lingers for what feels like forever but is only a moment. Then he gives me one final look before leaving Jared and me alone in the breezy hallway. Jared’s steps are measured as he walks slowly to me while pushing back his hood. His brown eyes are soft as he kneels down and reaches out carefully to take my hand. His fingers entwine with mine, and all my bones sigh at the contact.

"It’s okay, Layla. I’m home."

My lips wobble at his words, and before I can respond, he pulls me into a hug that, at first, is too tight. My groan has Jared loosening his hold on me, but he doesn’t let me go, and I let all my guards down and inhale. Everything feels right, and all I smell is Jared.

Even with the blare of the TV and the constant threat of Bert’s anger, right now, I am safe. I am home. I am with Jared.

My heart thumps heavily in my chest as if I’ve just relived that moment all over again. I’m a mixed bag of emotions and try to think of Evelyn’s words about ruminating. I need to think about the positives.

"Three positive things," I say while taking water into my mouth, nearly causing me to choke. I move my head out of the spray and let the warmth hit my back so I can speak without drowning.

"I survived my first few days of college. Ashley seemed nice." I hesitate, searching for a third positive. "I didn’t look hideous in my gym uniform." I let my head go back under the spray so I can condition my hair.

I feel better when I leave the bathroom and enter into my adjoining bedroom. The carpet under my feet always makes me sigh with contentment. The full-sized bed takes up most of the room, and my desk sits neatly under the window that overlooks the front garden. The best thing about the room is the walk-in closet. I flick the light on and pull out a clean pair of pj’s.

Once dressed, I face the mirror to brush out my hair. Even wet, the color still looks light, and the strands reach my waist. Dropping the brush on the dresser, I leave my room and go downstairs.

Evelyn is still reading her thriller. When I arrive in the kitchen, she takes off her glasses and puts her book down. "I’ll get your dinner now, sweetheart."

"I’ll grab it. Go read your book."

Evelyn picks back up her glasses. "Thanks." She sinks her attention back into her reading. She’s such a bookworm; she devours up to three books a week. I place my dinner in the microwave and grab a soda before sitting down at the table. As soon as I’m seated, my phone dings. It’s Morgan.

How was your first day at your swanky college?

My fingers quickly glide across the letters. Great. It’s a regular college.

I turn the phone over as I eat my dinner; the click of the soda can is the loudest sound in the quiet house. My phone dings again, and I ignore it so I can focus on my food.

"Who’s that texting you?" Evelyn glances at me over the rim of her glasses. Her glee at me texting someone has me picking up the phone.

"Oh, it’s Morgan." I force a smile while looking at Morgan’s message.

How boring. Want to go out tonight?

"She’s such a lovely girl," Evelyn says.

"Yeah, we’re going out tonight."

Evelyn tries to tone back the dial on her sunshine, which beams at me. But it’s still way too strong. "Great. No curfew. You go out and enjoy yourself." Evelyn picks her book back up. Her excitement is evidence in her lack of parenting. But I’m not like most girls my age. I never drink, and I always come home early.

I reluctantly answer Morgan’s text. Yeah, where to?

Just be ready at nine.

I place the phone back on the table while pushing my food around the plate. My appetite just took a run and jump off a cliff.

***

Morgan doesn’t arrive until nine thirty. I grab my bag and race from the house while Evelyn stands at the door, waving me off. I can see the girls in the back of the car snigger as I approach. I’ve met Morgan’s friends once or twice, but I always forget their names.

"In the front seat, L." Morgan rolls her window down and waves at Evelyn.

I give one final glance to Evelyn before climbing into the car. I feel like a kid being coaxed into a kidnapper’s vehicle—the sweets I’m offered aren’t worth the aftermath, yet I go anyway.

For the millionth time in my life, I do something I don’t want to.