Lila’s Loves
By Laylah Roberts
Copyright
Laylah Roberts
Lila’s Loves
© 2013, Laylah Roberts
[email protected]
[email protected]
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
This story contains the consensual spanking of an adult woman.
Cover Design by: ebookcoverdesignsbycarey.com
Thank you…
A big thank you to Janet for all her help and for catching so many mistakes I’d missed.
Laylah
Prologue
Lila shivered in the damp, dark alley. Drawing her legs up against her chest, she clasped her arms around her knees and rocked back and forth, trying to find some warmth. Unfortunately the rags she wore did little to protect her from the biting wind and wet ground.
But she couldn’t go back. Not yet. Momma had a man in her room. Lila didn’t like him so she’d raced out of their apartment before he got there. She only wished it wasn’t so dark and cold. She tried desperately to ignore her damp clothes, her wet hair, and the way the cold bit into her, making her tremble. Her teeth chattered so hard that pain pounded her jaw, making her face ache.
A flash of lightning lit the black sky, followed by angry, rolling thunder, making her whimper. She hunkered down, placing her arms over her head as she buried her face against her raised knees. The skies opened and rained down on her, sharp and heavy.
“Get to cover boys, it’s really coming down,” a deep voice echoed across the alley. “Quick, under here.”
Lila stiffened in shock at the deep voice. He had a strange accent, not unpleasant, his words coming out in a long, thick drawl.
“Heck, where did that come from?” a younger voice asked. “I thought we’d have enough time to make it back to the hotel.”
What are they doing in my alley? Lila wondered as she peered around the large garbage bin beside her to get a look at them. All she could see were three people crowded under a large windowsill, just like her. And they looked large. Lila shrunk back against the cold brick behind her.
“Bet Gavin is laughing his head off in the hotel room,” one of them grumbled.
“Still got a couple of blocks to go as well,” the man with the strange accent replied. “And we’ll be lucky to grab a cab in this weather.”
Lila shivered, wishing they’d just go.
Lightning lit up the sky once more and she couldn’t hold back her whimper. Fear flooded her, making her feel sick. She hated storms.
“What was that?”
Oh no, they heard her.
“Sounded like a dog or something,” another one said.
Keep your eyes closed, she told herself. Don’t look up and they won’t see you.
“Jesus Christ, it’s a little kid.”
Clay Richards looked down at the scruffy child huddled on the dirty, damp ground and wanted to curse. He held his tongue, knowing he’d frighten the poor thing. Who the hell would let their child hang out in an alley during a storm?
“A kid?” Colin asked, trying to look around him. “Well, shit, what’s she doing out here? Here, I’ll get us a bit of light.” Colin grabbed out his cell phone, turning on the flashlight function.
The child held her legs tight against her chest with thin, bare arms. She whimpered again, obviously completely terrified. And who could blame her, with the three of them looming over her. Short, dark hair lay plastered against her head. She looked so fragile huddled there. Immediately, Clay felt the urge to pick her up, take her home and feed her up.
“Stand back a bit, boys,” Clay ordered quietly. His two foster sons immediately moved away. They’d lived with him for two years now. At thirteen and fifteen they were typical teenage boys; they grunted instead of using words, stayed up late and slept most of the days, and they left dirty dishes under their beds until science experiments started to form. But he wouldn’t be without them.
Clay crouched down in front of the child, careful to move slowly.
“Hey there, little fella. What you doing out here?” he asked gently.
Thunder rumbled and the child jumped with a squeal. Large, hazel-colored eyes looked up at him in fright.
“Don’t be scared. It’s only a bit of thunder,” he told the child. How old was she? Hard to tell, but she looked pretty tiny; her face was too pale and thin, her body inadequately covered by her threadbare clothing. Where the hell was her family?
“Yeah,” Colin said. “It’s just God farting.”
Trace groaned and Clay shook his head. That was Colin, always with a joke—usually a pretty bad one.
The kid just stared at the three of them with wide eyes. Luckily, the rain was lessening, although they were all now completely soaked.
“Where are your parents, little one?” Clay asked.
The child just stared up at him silently.
“I’m Clay and these are my sons, Trace and Colin. I know we all look big and scary, but we’re not going to hurt you. Will you tell me your name?”
She ran her eyes over him, settling on his hat. He followed her gaze upward and smiled. “You like it?” he asked. Reaching up, Clay brought his hat off his head. “Helps keep the sun off in Texas. Of course here in Chicago it’s more useful for keeping the rain off.” He placed the hat on the kid’s head. “How about you keep it safe for me?”
The hat was too large for her small head, of course, but the kid tipped it back, still looking up at him. “Now, how about we get out of this alley and take you home?”
“I can’t,” she said. “Not until the man’s finished.”
“What man?” Clay asked, trying not to frown and frighten her more.
“The man with Momma, when he’s gone she’ll turn the light off, then on, and I can come home.” The kid glanced up at a window down the alley. Jesus, what kind of life did she live?
“He’s been in there a long time,” the kid said, sounding worried. She nibbled on her bottom lip.
“Yeah?” Clay asked, trying to keep the fury he felt out of his voice. What kind of mother sent her tiny child to sit in a dark, damp alley while she entertained a boyfriend? I mean, how old could the kid be? She looked tiny, maybe five or six. “How about we go see your Momma?”
The kid shook her head. “Can’t. Got to wait.”
“I’m sure she won’t mind, honey,” Clay said soothingly.
“But the man will.” The kid’s terror kicked Clay in the stomach. “He’s scary. He has mean eyes and he likes to hug me. I-I don’t like the way he stares at me.”
Dear God. The bafflement in that little voice betrayed her innocence. What kind of fucker was the kid’s mother hanging around with?
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t let him touch you.” It was a vow. And he meant it.
The child glanced up, her too-old gaze taking Clay in before she looked over at Colin and Trace. He and the boys had been here a week now, visiting an old friend of Clay’s. They were due to fly out tomorrow. As much as he’d enjoyed seeing Ian, Chicago was a long way from Texas, and Clay was eager to go home.
The city wasn’t for him. He preferred the wide, open spaces of his ranch.
“You’re big.” The quiet whisper hit his ears.
“That I am, kid.” He wondered if that was a good thing or not coming from someone who was less than four feet tall.
“Okay,
then.”
Clay was silent for a moment. “Well, good.” He held out his arms. The kid looked at them, then up at his face in confusion. “Will you let me carry you?” Clay asked.
He waited. Then two pale, thin limbs rose.
Clay carried the child up some rickety stairs, tucking her into his jacket. Poor little thing shook against his chest. Just cold? Or scared as well?
“Nobody is going to hurt you,” Clay reassured the tiny child clinging to him, patting her back, horrified by how bony she felt. “I promise.”
A small head nodded. “This is my door.”
The apartment building was run down; only half the inside lights worked and the smell of sweaty bodies permeated the air, clogging his nostrils. He shifted the kid’s weight to one arm, holding her easily as he knocked on the door.
No answer.
He knocked again, louder. Damn, he had a bad feeling about this.
“Colin, come and hold the kid while I go check this out.”
The child whimpered in his hold and held onto him tighter. Poor thing. “It’s okay,” Clay whispered. “I’ll be right back.”
Clay managed to untangle himself from the mass of limbs attached to him and entered the room.
Shit.
*****
Lila didn’t like the hospital. The lights were too bright and it smelled funny. The only thing that kept her here was the man holding her tightly on his lap.
Clay.
She still had his hat. She figured while she had it he wouldn’t leave her; surely he wouldn’t leave his hat behind. She liked the way he smelled and the soft way he talked, even if he did sound kind of funny. She even liked the way he held her. He was big, but he hadn’t hurt her or yelled at her or pushed her around. She wasn’t so sure about his sons. They stared at her and she wasn’t sure why.
Something bad had happened to Momma. The mean man had done something; she knew he had. She whimpered, wondering what was happening. Clay tightened his hold and kissed the top of her head. A warm feeling filled her.
“Why don’t you two head back to the hotel room,” Clay said to his sons. What were their names? Oh yeah, Colin and Trace. Colin was taller and he kept smiling at her. The other one didn’t smile at all. “Gavin will be back at the hotel and I don’t know how long this will take us.”
Who was Gavin?
Colin and Trace stared at her again before nodding. She was glad when they left and she buried her face against Clay’s chest once more. It wasn’t often that someone held her.
Clay stood as the nurse approached, the kid still holding on tight. The only time she’d let go was when Clay had forced her to go to Colin, and he’d glad he had. Seeing her mother in the state he’d found her, bloody and bruised, was not something a little one needed to see.
“You’re with Abigail West?” the nurse asked.
Clay nodded. He’d gotten that much out of the kid. Still didn’t know her name though.
The nurse smiled at the girl. “And this is her daughter? What’s your name, cutie?”
The girl looked up at Clay, who nodded.
“Lila West,” she said quietly. “Is Momma sick?”
The nurse gave her a sympathetic look. “Come this way.”
Clay followed the nurse, carrying Lila. Abigail West lay in the hospital bed, looking broken and worse for wear. Clay felt a surge of anger towards the bastard who’d done this. Abigail might not win any parenting prizes but surely she didn’t deserve this.
Her face was swollen, misshapen; one eye was so puffed up she couldn’t even open it. She was going to be in a world of hurt for a while and who the hell was going to take care of little Lila while she got better?
Clay had already told the hospital he’d pay her bill; maybe he could offer to pay her rent while she recovered. She couldn’t work for a while, that was sure, and Clay hated the thought of Lila going hungry.
He shifted her slightly so she was resting on one arm as he stepped forward. He didn’t even consider letting her down. He’d always wanted kids, but had never met someone he wanted to have them with. And then the boys had come along. But they’d been teenagers when they’d come to live with him, beyond the stage of needing him to bandage their knees and read them bedtime stories.
Clay moved closer, still holding Lila who hadn’t made a noise. Abigail opened her good eye, staring up at them. “W-who are you?” she asked.
“Name’s Clay Richards, ma’am. I, ahh, encountered young Lila here and brought her home. I called for an ambulance when I found you.”
“I can’t afford this. Got no health insurance,” she said her voice rough and hoarse sounding.
“That’s okay, ma’am. It’s taken care of.”
“Well, good,” she said harshly, a calculating look in her eye. “Maybe we can work out some sort of payment plan.”
Clay knew she wasn’t talking about money, and his stomach tightened in disgust. He let out a deep breath. The woman hadn’t looked at Lila once.
“Ma’am, is there someone I can call for you? Someone who can help take care of you and Lila?”
The woman snorted, then groaned as she tried to move. “There ain’t nobody who gives a shit about me and that good-for-nothing kid. Christ, what am I going to do? I can’t exactly make a living like this.”
Clay figured she wasn’t making much of a living anyway. Lila shifted in his arms. Poor little mite, she hadn’t once complained. He couldn’t leave her here. He knew that.
“Ma’am, I think we need to talk. Just let me find someone to take care of Lila.”
*****
Clay stepped into the dark motel, hours later than he’d planned. Lila slept against his chest. All the lights were off except for one lamp in the living area. He’d gotten two connecting suites: Colin and Trace were in the one next door, while he and Gavin were sharing this one. The question was where to put the munchkin.
Well, first things first.
He needed to get her out of her clothes, well, rags. Walking through to his bedroom, he placed her on the bed.
“Clay,” she said sleepily, rubbing at her eyes.
“Yeah, little bit?” he answered gently. God, how could that awful woman just give her up like that? Clay had offered to help her out until she was on her feet, to help her find a new job so she could take better care of Lila. The woman had laughed and said she didn’t give a crap about the kid. That he could take her.
So he had. He knew it wasn’t legal but no way would this little girl be going back. If he had to pay Abigail West off for the rest of her life, he would.
“Am I going to live with you?” she asked, looking up at him with calm eyes. Most kids would be crying or upset, not Lila. He worried about her reaction for a moment, and then decided she was probably just exhausted.
“You sure are.” He quelled the voice in his head telling him all the ways this could backfire. Lila’s mother got what she wanted and he got Lila out of that hellish situation.
“Where do you live?” she asked.
“On a big ranch in Texas. Colin and Trace live with me and so does my other son, Gavin who you will meet in the morning. We have plenty of cattle and horses, even a few dogs, cats and chickens.”
She bit her lip and sat up, her eyes huge in her too-small face. “I don’t know anything about animals.”
Clay pulled out one of his clean t-shirts for her to wear to bed. He stretched, his limbs feeling heavy and lethargic. Forty-six was too old to be awake at three in the morning. And Lila had to be even more tired. How much sleep did kids her age need anyway? How old exactly was she?
“Lila, honey? How old are you?”
“Seven,” she replied.
“Good, that’s good,” Clay said. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
She nodded shyly.
“Okay, you use it first. We’ll grab showers in the morning. I think we both need some sleep right now.”
“Clay?” she asked as she climbed off the bed.
“Yes?
”
“Will I like it at your place?” she asked.
“I sure hope so. It’s going to be your new home.”
Chapter One
16 years later
A loud banging woke Lila instantly. With a gasp, she sat up, scooting against the wall behind her. She reached out for the bat she kept close by.
You could never be too careful in this neighborhood.
“Lila, please open the door.”
She froze and looked over at the bedside clock. 1:21 a.m.
“Lila,” a different voice added. “Open up or we’re going to break this door down.”
Lila groaned. And they’d do it, too. She climbed off her bed, which was actually just a worn mattress on the floor. She left the bat there. It wouldn’t do her any good. Not against them. Never against family. And that’s what they were despite the lack of blood tying them together.
Clay had made it very clear years ago that they were her family now. Forever. She’d wanted to believe him. Desperately. But there had always been some part of her expecting it to end. Expecting that Clay or his sons would get sick of her and kick her out.
Lila was so grateful to Clay for everything he’d done for her. He’d saved her when he could have just left her in that alley and gone on happily with his life. Hell, many people would have.
She’d done everything she could not to let Clay down. She’d been a model student, had done all that was asked of her and stressed the entire time that it wasn’t enough, that she’d do something to ruin it.
Turning on the light, she walked over to the door in the one-room apartment and peered out the peephole. Only two of them had come, Colin and Trace.
She was surprised Gavin wasn’t with them; it wasn’t like him to stay behind. The oldest of the three, Gavin was a take-charge sort of guy, plain-speaking and confident. He could be both terrifying and magnificent, making her feel safe one moment and then angry enough to kick him the next.
Damn, she missed him, missed all of them.
It had been six months since she’d seen the boys and she’d thought about them every day.
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