Chapter 77: A Means Of Connection

Layla's Bedroom, The Quinn Residence, The Backwoods, Temperance, South Dakota...

Blurry eyes of hypnotic grey opened to find a familiar setting once the formerly unconscious Brick Kenneally finally awakened in Layla Quinn's bed. He'd been bandaged rather skillfully and a bit sore, to say the least, but he'd been alive and kicking which was more than he could say for old Charlie Mack. The frustration of having been so easily set up and losing his only real lead had returned and prompted Brick to throw off the crisp white sheet that covered his body as he attempted to get out of Layla's rather comfortable bed. His early motion made him wince in pain due to his injuries and the lingering effects of being impaled with silver bullets. He took note of the fact that he'd been completely naked as he lay in Layla's bed and that he'd no longer been covered with blood.

After a brief yawn, Brick slid out of bed and slowly exited the bedroom. A quick sniff of the air told him that there was a good deal of tension but it was coming from a rather anxious Layla who had been in the kitchen. He moved toward the kitchen noticing that Layla was a bit out of sorts as she tried her best to make breakfast despite her apparent anxiousness about his situation. He figured she'd conclude keeping her hands busy while she let him sleep and didn't know exactly what to do with it.

Sensing her panic and worry intensify, Brick decided to make himself known.

"Good morning Sunshine," he said wrapping his arms around Layla's waist and leaning down to kiss her along her neck as he took in her sweet scent, basking in the perfection of the young woman who had become his chosen mate.

"Brick," said Layla relieved to feel him pressed against her body and that he'd been up and about of his own accord this time around.

The older man smirked as he swiftly turned her around and promptly kissed her lips for the first time since awakening in her bedroom. Layla returned his kiss grateful that he had managed to survive what looked to have been rather dire circumstances.

Brick held her close to him taking in her sweet scent and feeling the effect of them being in such a limited proximity as the sensation of relief washed over the both of them. The echoes of her anxiousness had subsided and she smiled at him before turning her attention back to making his plate.

Brick took a few moments to look around the kitchen before venturing toward the table and sat down. He'd still been reeling about how he'd come so close to death courtesy of a few silver bullets. Layla had come through for him at the time pulling each and everyone out, crediting her no good father for her skill at removing them had been a sad fact, but he was grateful to her for having the skills at all.

Once Brick had settled into a seat, which happened to be at the head of the table, Layla brought him over a plate of hot food and a glass of orange juice. Brick was particularly fond of pancakes since he'd been a mere pup due to his mother's tendency to cook them often and the combination of butter and sweetness always seemed to take over his tastebuds with compelling force. He favored them more often than not over his usual bloodied slabs of meat back then and Layla had taken the liberty of making him some for breakfast.

Brick picked up his knife and fork, demonstrating that he could at least mimic table manners when he needed to as Layla sat down with her plate and did the same. She said something of a prayer over her food and Brick arched a brow before bowing his head as he heard her low whisper before digging into his rather impressive stack of pancakes and wolfing them down so to speak. Layla had still been none the wiser about his true nature, an amazing feat given he'd been nearly killed by silver bullets and she had removed them.

The sound of chewing and the clanking of silverware against heavy plates had echoed through the kitchen as Brick and Layla ate in relative silence she seemed to be doing a bit better as she watched him eat comfortable with the idea that things seemed to have gotten back to normal for him. Brick was healed entirely of course, but with the bandages still wrapped around him she couldn't tell and he supposed it was for the best. At least until she had the chance to understand what he'd truly been.

He did not doubt in his mind that she'd have questions.

The shooting was rather sudden and the loss of a lead in the case still frustrated him to no end.

"Who's Charlie Mack?" asked Layla after taking a bite of her food and looking up into Brick's hypnotic grey eyes.

Brick arched a brow at her as he stopped chewing his food and wondered where she'd heard that name before.

"Is He the one that shot you?" asked Layla with an inquisitive expression filed across her lovely face.

"No," replied Brick evenly, his deep voice reflecting a bit of his frustration as he thought back to the shooting. "It wasn't him."

Layla seemed puzzled by this.

Brick put down his knife and fork and sighed as he sat back against the old wood chair that he'd taken to sitting in at the kitchen table. He ran a hand across his face and took a deep breath before meeting Layla's gaze.

"What I am about to tell you never leaves this room," he said in a stern tone. "I'm only gonna tell you about it because I owe you some answers for savin' my life last night but nothin' more will be said about this case or otherwise and it is not to get out, my crew ain't even aware of the situation just yet and I'd like you to stay out of the line of fire."

Layla noted how serious he'd been and nodded.

"I went to see a man who had known about your mother, he had a brother that was interested in her and they had something of an affair, according to this man your mother scammed him with a little girl and took off with another man, but not before he was killed."

Layla gasped in horror thinking that her mother could have possibly been involved with the death of someone as well as the kidnapping of the missing girl.

"Now I ain't gonna lie to ya, it ain't looking good what's being said about your mother but that don't mean whoever this man is ain't the one callin' the shots of you know what I mean," said Brick evenly. "The man I was talkin' to was shot yesterday and the son of a bitch that did it shot me as well when I was on his trail, didn't figure the son of a bitch had silver bullets, which you know by now I'm highly allergic to 'em. So far my main lead is dead and somebody is gonna pay for the blood spilled one way or the other."

Layla had not liked the sound of Brick going back out after what nearly happened to him the previous day, she wasn't even sure he'd been fully healed enough to venture back out. As much as she wanted to see justice done for the missing girl and have closure about her mother, she didn't want Brick killed in the process, she had loved him too much.

"Brick..." she began only for him to sigh and get up from the table and kneel at her feet.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, I'm gonna be just fine thanks to you," he said reaching up with his large right hand and stroking her cheek.

"You almost died," said Layla with tears threatening to burst from the wells of her lovely blue eyes. "Brick I can't..."

"Hey... I'm alright little girl, and I'll prove it to you," said Brick as he scooped Layla out of the chair and into his powerful arms lifting her up to demonstrate his towering height once more as he carried her back toward her bedroom.

While she clung to him pleased that he had his measure of strength back, she still worried about him and what this case would cost them both in the long run.