by Kar, Alla
I jab my finger over my shoulder. “What the hell was that about?”
“I don’t want to go out with her.”
“Why?” I screech out. “Everyone wants to go out with her.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to go out with her?”
“Of course not, I don’t swing that way.”
He stands up and looks down at me. “Then not everyone wants to go out with her.”
I sigh and shrug. What the hell ever. I stand up and follow him down the stairs.
It is still daylight outside, only around five when we finish. Damon is quiet on the way out, until we get to his car. “Oh, fuck,” he says.
My mouth drops open when I see spray paint all over the car. “Who did this?” he asks.
My mouth feels really dry and my body warm. Don’t jump to conclusions, it may be some of his own personal demons. “I-I don’t know. Do you have any enemies? Make any other boyfriends mad?”
His lips turn down at the corners, and he shakes his head. “Taylor…do you think he could have done this?”
“Absolutely not. He would just fight you, not mess with your stuff.”
He runs his fingers through his hair and presses his lips together in a tight line. “Well, I guess it’s nothing a little wash can’t fix. Damn it—I just wish I knew who did this.”
I know. I know! But why? How? Is he following me everywhere? Waiting for a time to pounce? How can he know my every move? “Um, I don’t know…” I say.
He reaches over and rubs my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. I’ll see you in class.”
I feel horrible on my way home. I call Cindy to come pick me up, because I don’t feel like riding in silence with Taylor.
When she speeds up to the front of the library, she rolls down her window. “You look sick, what’s the matter with you?” she asks.
Getting in the passenger seat, I rub my hands over my face. “Someone spray painted Damon’s car.”
She raises an eyebrow, but then I see the realization hit her face. “You think scorpion guy did it?”
I nod. “Yeah, he says he has no enemies--,”
“People are just cruel. You can’t just assume it’s him, it might not have been. It could have been any drugged, or drunk kid on campus. Believe me, we have plenty of them.”
I press my cheek against the cool window and sigh. “I hope you’re right.”
Cindy pats my leg. “Let’s get some Chinese and then head to Taylor’s.”
***
The front door swings open before my hand reaches the door knob. “Holy fuck, you’re safe,” Taylor says, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me in the apartment.
Brett is sitting on the couch, munching on some pork rimes. “Hey, baby,” he calls out to Cindy.
She gives him a finger wave, drops the Chinese on the table and jumps in his lap. If Taylor had lazar vision I’d be a pile of ash on the floor. “Where have you two been? You say you’re studying with asshole tonight and never show up to study. Where did you go?”
I sigh. “I went to the library to study. I didn’t think studying here would be such a great idea since you hate him so much.”
Taylor narrows his eyes. “So, you ask Cindy to come pick you up? She can’t protect you.”
“Hey,” Cindy yells. “I can stand my ground. I can be scary.”
“Yeah, when you wake up in the morning,” Brett says. Cindy jumps up and start punching him in the arm.
Taylor doesn’t laugh, but his face softens a little. “I was so fucking worried. You wouldn’t answer your phone, and I thought something happened to you.”
Brett raises his hand like he is in elementary school. “It’s true, he has been pacing the floor for the past two hours.”
I bump my shoulder against Taylors. “That worried about me, huh?”
He rolls his eyes and wraps his hand around my waist. “Of course I am. I am always worried about you. You seem to attract trouble.”
“Oh, she has nothing on Sookie. Which reminds me, let’s watch True Blood!” Cindy yells.
Both boys groan, but they take their normal places and watch with us anyway.
***
After Brett and Cindy leave I lay on the couch looking up at Taylor. He is kissing me all over, like he may never see me again. “You know I was serious early, don’t you?”
“About what?” I ask.
“About being worried about you. I do worry, all the time.”
I nod and moan as his tongue ring slides against the edge of my bra. “Yeah, I know.”
He pulls me up and into his lap, cradling my face. “I care about you so much, Layla.”
I smile and nuzzle my face into the side of his neck. “Ditto,” I say.
His fingers trace my panty line, up my side to my breast. “I want to talk to you about something.”
I lean into his touch. “Okay.”
“I want you to come home with me. To meet my family.”
My mind shuts off. Did he just say ‘meet his family?’ I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. When someone wants you to meet their family, they will want to meet yours. Taylor isn’t exactly what my grandparents would call ‘marriage material.’ They’d take one look at his tattoos and run for the hills.
He runs his hand in front of my face. “Baby? Are you okay?”
I nod. “Um—I’m just a little surprised that’s all. You don’t talk about your family very often. And…you wouldn’t have anyone to meet on my side. It’s just my grandparents.” Tears are starting to tickle the sides of my eyes.
He shakes his head and rubs underneath my eye where a tear has escaped. “Sweetie, your grandparents are your family. Plus, we won’t even think about meeting them until you’re completely ready.” I frown, thinking about meeting his family. I’m excited, but nervous as hell. What if they don’t like me? What if they think I’m stuck-up because I’ll be quiet around them?
“When? I mean when will we go see them?”
“Saturday. I already cleared it with the coffee shop. If you want to go, I mean.”
I bite my lip, but nod. “Yeah, I mean sure. I’d love to.”
A wide grin spreads across Taylor’s face, and he chuckles. “I can’t fucking wait,” he says into my ear. “You’re going to love my mom.”
I smile and run my finger along his jaw. He leans into my hand, humming a slow song underneath his breath. I remember when Rod fought Taylor and him saying that his dad beat him and his mom. I want to ask, but I don’t want to bring up any demons. I know how hard it is to deal with those emotions. But, I want to know. I need to know before I go to their house and bring up something his family doesn’t talk about.
“Taylor can I ask you something?”
He pulls me down onto his chest. “Sure.”
“When Rod and you fought, he said something about your dad…about him hitting you. Was that true?”
Taylor is quiet for several minutes. I’m not sure if he is even awake until I feel him nod his head. “Yes, it’s true. He beat my mother and me.”
I feel a lump forming in my throat, but I push it back down. “I’m—I’m so sorry. I just wanted to know so I will know what conversations not to bring up.”
Taylor continues to run his fingers through my hair. “It’s okay. He is in jail now, and everything is fine.” He sighs. “I have two younger siblings. Trent and Amy.” He smiles when he says their names. “Trent is fifteen and Amy thirteen. I haven’t been to see them in a few weeks, but I normally go once a week to the house.” I frown, knowing I was the reason he hadn’t been home.
“You didn’t go because of me?”
“You needed me, they understand. But, it’s probably not the best idea to tell them you have a crazy serial killer after you. That might freak them out.”
I laugh. “Could you blame them?”
“Not really. You are one freaky little girl, Layla.”
“I’m not little and I’m not freaky. I’m normal sized and
awesome.”
We lay on the couch in each other’s arms for a few short minutes. I’m debating telling Taylor about Damon’s car. I think it may make Taylor feel better. “Damon’s car was spray painted today while we were studying.”
Taylor lifts his pierced eyebrow. “Really? Who did it?”
I shrug and play with a string on Taylor’s sweats. “We don’t know. He said he doesn’t have any enemies.”
“So, you think it’s the guy that killed your parents?” He frowns. “You think he’s been following you this whole time?”
I nod. “Maybe.”
Taylor sighs. “Well, we’ll have to keep our eyes opened, then. Even though I’m sure he has enemies. Look at him, he just looks like a jackass.”
“Whatever helps your sleep at night.”
He laughs and pulls me on top of him. He presses his erection against me. “I know what helps me sleep at night.”
I give him a wicked grin, all of my worries fading away. “I can definitely help with that. Come here.”
Chapter Six
Layla
Taylor is going to kill me.
This isn’t very unusual, since I’m not able to do anything without his permission. Against my better judgment, I grab my Jeep keys, which are hidden underneath Taylor’s bed with his prize money for fighting, in a shoe box. There must be over ten grand in there. I would have never guessed that so many college students bet on fights. I guess that’s what happens when playboys go to college with their parent’s check books.
The keys feel weird in my hand. I haven’t driven anywhere since the incident, since Taylor has taken it upon himself to become my personal shofar. I tighten my grip around the keys. I know I probably shouldn’t go out by myself, but I need to go get clothes for Taylor’s house tomorrow. I can’t meet his mother looking any kind of way.
Mittens meows at my feet, rubbing her head against my ankle. I scratch behind her ear and stand up staring at the alarm system. With shaky hands, I type in the code until I hear the double beep before I open the door.
I don’t give anyone I chance to register that I’m leaving, I run as fast as I can toward my Jeep. I’m in driver’s seat and have the vehicle running in ten seconds. This is a bad idea, but I do it anyway.
My normal drive to my apartment building takes around ten minutes but with it being Friday, the traffic has slowed me down. Twenty minutes later, I’m parking in my usual parking space in front of our building. My nerves are fluttering around my body, I feel like I’m going to throw up. I leave my Jeep door unlocked, just in case I need to make a quick getaway, I won’t have to fumble with the lock. I walk the stairs, looking over my shoulder every few steps. Everything around me looks the same, but it did before too. I twist the lock and quickly shut the door behind me.
My room still looks like a pig pen, so I kick and shove things out of my way. The window is closed, and it doesn’t look like anything has been messed with since our last visit. I go around to each room and make sure the windows are locked, and secured. When I finally feel safe, I turn on our stereo and start to pick up. The more I clean, the more I realize nothing was taken at all. Unless the freak stole clothing, nothing sentimental or expensive seems to be gone. Taking off my shirt, because it feels like Hell in here, I pull on a tank top and continue picking through my clothes.
After thirty minutes of putting thing back into order, I slip into the kitchen to get me something water. The dirty dishes in the sink are starting to smell, so I put them in the dishwasher and let it run. The water slides down my throat, and I moan as it quenches my thirst. When I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, I see something toward our balcony sliding doors. Behind the blinds, where the wood is chipped on the side, a piece of fabric is hanging from the ridge. It is dark blue and looks like a piece of a T-shirt. Carefully, I walk over to the fabric and grab it. It’s definitely a T-shirt. Has Cindy been here? I touch the fabric, it could be anyone’s. Biting my lip, I pull out my cell and dial Cindy.
“Make it fast, I’m watching TV.”
“Let me guess. True Blood?”
“Actually, it’s Once Upon A Time. Now, spill. I don’t have all day.”
I sit down on the couch and rub my fingers over the T-Shirt. “I’m at the apartment ---,”
“What?” she screeches. “Is Taylor with you? Are you suicidal or something?”
Glancing out the window I say, “I’m here to get some clothes for this weekend. I’m going to meet Taylor’s Mom and--,”
“What? Why am I the last person to know everything? When did this happen? Are you guys getting married?”
“No, Cindy. He asked last night. Anyway, back to the point. I found a piece of a T-shirt snagged on the doorframe to the balcony. I think this T-shirt belongs to whoever broke in.”
“Damn,” Cindy mumbles. “Well, maybe you could take it to the police. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? Maybe they could get some DNA or something.”
“Yeah, I think I’m going to.”
Cindy sighs. “Okay, but I really think you need to get back to Taylor’s. Does he know you’re there by yourself? Let me guess…no. Get the shirt and get out, Layla. Call me if you need something, but only if it’s important. I have to see what happens to this fucking evil ass queen.”
“Okay, talk to you later.” I hang up the phone. There is an eerie vibe that’s hanging over my shoulder. It’s probably just because Cindy scared the shit out of me. I do probably need to get home. Standing up, I clinch the T-shirt and go to pack my bag.
After digging through my clothes, I pack the ones I need and head toward the living room. Grabbing my over-shirt I had taken off from the coffee table, I glance around for my keys. Where the hell did I put them? They aren’t in the kitchen, so I walk toward the bathroom.
Thump. Thump. My body numbs at the sound. A rising fear moves up my throat, and I can’t speak, can’t breathe. Someone is in the apartment. Slowly, I walk the rest of the way to the bathroom and see my key lying on the counter. Thump.
Grabbing my keys, I take off running toward the front door. I can faintly hear the sound of footsteps coming from my bedroom. I fling the door open but never stop running. I don’t dare look back because I might faint if I see him. My heart hammers against my ribs as I take the stairs two at a time. The heaviness of his eyes on the back of my head makes me run faster.
My Jeep is in my view, but I can hear him gaining on me. Nonono. Please. I have to get away. My legs are burning, sweat is dripping down my forehead and my stomach knotting up.
My fingers shake as I fumble with the keys. “Layla,” I hear.
Fuck, he is talking to me. So close. He is so fucking close. “Layla, are you okay? Why are you running? Calm down.” I feel arms wrap around my stomach, and I sling my elbow back, as hard as I can, until I make contact. “Ouch, fuck. Calm down. It’s me, Damon.”
My entire body collapses into him. Sobs break through my parted lips, and I bury my head into his chest. Damon grabs my chin and lifts it up to look at him. “What’s the matter? What happened?”
I glance over at the apartment complex. It’s empty. Only a few cars scattered across the parking lot. No scorpion man, no axe murderer waiting for me in the shadows. “He was chasing me,” I say.
Damon furrows his brows. “I saw a man in a black hoodie run into the alley when I was coming out of my apartment. Was that him?”
I shrug. “I didn’t see what he was wearing. I heard him in my apartment and ran.”
Straightening me up, he motions me to lean against the Jeep. He bends down and glares at me. His green eyes are really bright in the sun. “Why would you run if you didn’t know who it was? Or didn’t see him? Where was he?”
I bite my lip and sigh. “I heard him sneaking into my bedroom. I know…he is after me. It’s a really long story that I don’t want to talk about right now. Can I leave?”
Damon shakes his head. “I don’t know…maybe we should call the cops or something?”
I shake my head and push off of my Jeep. “I’m going to go to the cops.” I hold up the torn T-shirt that is still clenched in my hand. “I’m going to turn this in, see if they could get anything off of it.”
Damon glances down at the T-shirt, and studies it carefully. He takes his bottom lip in-between in teeth and bites, hard. “Okay, do you want me to drive you?”
“No, I’ve got it. Thanks.” Heat is burning my cheeks. I bet he thinks I’m a fucking screw up. That I’m a freak, with a thousand problems. Shaking my head, I get into the truck and go.
***
Detective Vice examines the T-shirt. His brows furrow and he chews on his full lip. I debated actually coming here. It doesn’t seem like he is really worried about our situation if you ask me. We haven’t heard from him about the apartment and them not seeing the T-shirt makes me think that they barley glanced over it anyway. “Why didn’t you guys see this when you checked it out?”
He glances up, a bit of pink flushes his fluffy cheeks. “We must have missed it.”
I roll my eyes. Sure, Barney Fife That seems like a likely story. He puts the T-shirt down and looks over at me. “We’ll send this off to forensics. It may take a few weeks, but we will get it back to you. My advice to you is to stay out of sight and be safe.”
Never thought of that. I blow up a piece of my hair from my forehead and place my hands on the arms of the chair. “Yeah, sure.” I stand to leave when I feel his calloused hand on my forearm. Gently, he tugs me back toward my seat.
“Look,” he gestures toward my seat again, “take a seat.” Sighing, I sit down and look over at him. He intertwines his sausage fingers and stares down at me. “I know that you don’t think we’re doing very much for your situation, Layla. The thing is that we don’t have that much to go on. A T-shirt, a break-in, a note and a scorpion. No fingerprints. No evidence. We’ve searched through males in the systems, looking for scorpion tattoos but nothing has come up. We’re trying more than you think we are. However, I think there is something that you forgot to tell us, Layla.”
I press my lips together really hard. I won’t say anything. I know exactly what he is talking about. But, the question is how in the hell he found that out. I’d been sixteen and it was washed off my record when I hit eighteen. Taking my lip in my teeth, I crane my neck to look at him sideways.