by Solveig Yrsa
“Let go of me!” the girl yelled while trying to yank her hand free. Layla let go and the girl tripped and fell into the dead end alley.
She sat there and sighed. “Go ahead, call the police,” she muttered.
Layla noticed the bruises on the girl’s dark skin, and her eyes softened. “Actually, I was going to get you something to eat, I would’ve tried to invite your friend, but she ran off.”
The girl snorted. “Red ain’t no friend. Friends don’t abandon you.”
Layla nodded. “True, except you and I both know that if you both got caught, the beatings would be worse when you got back.”
The girl looked at Layla with her dark, honey colored eyes. “How do you know the rules?”
“I used to have to do the running for Marcus too. Pick-pocketing and luring guys were what I did until I was older, then I got sick, and well, people became leery of me so I couldn’t get away with it anymore. I’m Layla by the way.”
“Michelle, I go by Mish though, you’re not the one that Marcus calls ‘LaLa’ are you? He said that he got you a rich husband.”
Layla laughed coldly. “I am the one that he calls… that… I can’t even say it, that name is still the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever been called. But, Marcus beat me within an inch of my life and I decided I was just going to… well, give up. But as I was about to end it, someone saved me. Marcus had nothing positive to do with that.”
Layla noticed how Mish’s head lowered. “What’s wrong?”
The girl shook her head. “Marcus said that he got you a rich husband, and that… if we followed the rules, he would get us one too. Guess it was stupid to think that would happen.” Layla patted the girl’s back.
“Listen, you don’t have to go back to him. You’re still very young and pretty, get out of that nest before it consumes you. Marcus is the devil, and once he gets his claws in you, it’s nearly impossible to escape. And even when you do, you’re left with wounds so deep… they never heal.” Layla looked off in the distance as she remembered all the things she had to do for Marcus and the nest.
“Where would I go? Who is going to want me?”
Layla blinked and looked at Mish. “Go to the shelter, stay there, ask to work for a place to stay.” She saw the girl’s hesitation. “I know it’s scary, but I’m telling you, no good comes from that man. He is poison.” She reached in her backpack and saw money rolled up in the pocket, thanks to Spencer. “Here is fifty dollars. Now, you can take it, get food and a bus ride to the shelter across town. Or you can give it to Marcus and be right back here to do the same thing tomorrow.”
Mish was hesitant, but took the money. “Thank you,” she whispered before getting up and running off.
Layla sighed and walked out of the alley before heading to a park. She sat down under a tree, and pulled out her sketch book and pencil, then just stared at the blank page. Her thought’s drifted back to the girls. She remembered being them. Distracting unsuspecting people while someone else grabbed their wallets, or worse… she shuddered as she remembered her late night jobs. Marcus had made a promise to her mother that Layla would never be one of his ‘street girls’, and Marcus kept his promise, but that didn’t stop him from making her act like one to lure the men into an alley to get jumped. She shuddered as she remembered begging Marcus to let her stay at the nest, and all he would do is kick her into the street and tell her if she wanted to eat, she had better find money. She hated the men looking at her, some would get ballsy enough to touch her arm or thigh, it disgusted her.
She shuddered as the memories she tried so hard to keep buried started to flood back. She didn’t want to remember. It started right before her mother died and ended right before she had… ‘met’ spencer the first time.
“Jesus, you ever hear of a shower?” Layla looked up from the ground in time to see a man dump a large ice water on her head.
Layla rubbed her hands as that memory of Spencer filled her head. So much had changed between them. She sighed and looked at her cellphone, the lock screen flashed and showed a picture of her and the group. She looked at herself next to Spencer, and raised a brow while staring at the photo. Who was that girl? That wasn’t Layla. Her hair was perfect, her makeup was done, expensive clothes, the necklace, she wore the Louis Vuitton bag that Spencer had given her. Her fake, perfect teeth… She frowned and sat the phone down. She thought back to Mish, how that money, regardless of if she went to the shelter or to Marcus, was everything, and how now, nothing on her was below $50. She suddenly felt embarrassed that this was her life. She was sitting here in designer clothes with a boyfriend worth more money than she could fathom, and she was complaining that she couldn’t draw inner pain. That was her problem in life now? This was her big stress?
“M…Marcus, why won’t she wake up?” The young girl looked at the old man with her big blue wide eyes.
Marcus shook his head. “Alice, you were a fool. Listen, Lala, your mama is gone now. It is just you. I’ll take care of you, if you do your jobs. Now get on out of here and get money.” Layla looked at her mother’s lifeless figure then back at Marcus. Tears spilled down her stained cheeks.
Marcus grabbed the young girl and slapped her across the face. “Lala, sadness and tears are a waste of energy. You ain’t got time for that. You either live or you die. Decide and do it.” She sniffled and nodded before grabbing her dented empty can and walking from the nest. She looked back one last time to see Marcus ordering men in the group to wrap her mother up in her sleeping bag.
Layla blinked and looked around. How long had she been staring off? She looked down and saw her notepad, and her bottom lip quivered. She saw the outline of her old soup can she used to put money in. She wiped her cheek and noticed it was wet. Had she been crying? Her phone went off, making her jump. She clicked the accept button and Spencer’s face showed up.
“Hey Lay, I was just ch—" Spencer stopped and looked at her. “Layla, are you crying? What happened? Where are you?”
Layla watched him on the phone moving around and grabbing things. “N…No I’m fine, it’s nothing. Just some bad memories,” she laughed lightly as she wiped her cheeks.
“Let me come get you,” he said softly as he made his way to his car.
Layla sighed, she was going to fight him, but the skies were getting darker and she would rather ride home. “Okay, I’m at the park across from the coffee shop you and Liam like. I’ll go in there and wait for you.”
“Okay, sweetheart, I’m on my way.”
Layla smiled softly as the phone went dark. She gathered up her items and made her way down the hill and into the shop. When she sat down, she was greeted by a handsome young man with blonde hair and blue eyes.
“Hi, I’m Adam, can I take your order?”
She looked at him and forced a smile. “Hi Adam, can I just have an iced latte?”
“No food?”
Layla shrugged and scrunched her face. “I’m okay,” she said softly.
Adam nodded and as he walked off, Layla let out a shaky breath. Why was that memory of her mom hitting her so hard? She didn’t remember it being this bad when it happened, and it had been years.
“Lala!” The young girl who couldn’t be more than four, looked up from her dolls to her smiling mother. Her long, dark hair was braided loosely, her dark eyes beamed brightly, and her smile was wide and full. The woman sat on her knees and opened her arms widely. “Lala! Come here, baby.”
The little girl grinned widely before she took off running, she leapt into the woman’s arms. “Mommy! I love you!”
The woman giggled and hugged her tightly. “I love you, baby. Now come on, we have to go home.”
Layla was snapped out of her trance by the sound of a cup being set on her table. She looked up at the blonde man.
“I uh, I brought you a cookie, you looked sad so…” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Layla looked at the round cookie that was half black and half white before she broke down and started sobbing.<
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The poor waiter sat down next to her and rubbed her back. “I’m sorry! I was just trying to help.”
She sniffled. “It’s… not you… I just…” She started crying harder.
It was at that time that Spencer walked in. He saw Layla at the table, sobbing while another man touched her back. Spencer cleared the area and grabbed the man and jerked him up. “Who the FUCK are you? What did you do to my girlfriend?”
Layla snapped out of her sobbing session and wedged herself between the men. “Spencer, stop, he was being nice, it’s not his fault!”
Spencer stared at Layla and then back at the man before releasing the front of the man’s apron. “Let’s go,” he said sternly before turning and walking out.
Layla looked at the stunned Adam. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered before leaving money on the table and running out to the car.
Once inside the car, Spencer turned to her. “Okay, I’m going to stay calm for exactly… forty seconds. Please explain what is happening.”
Layla sighed, “Nothing happened, I just started remembering things about my past and… I don’t know, for whatever reason I started crying. It was weird.”
He looked at her confused expression. Her eyes looked so far away. Placing a hand on her cheek, he turned her head to make her look at him. “Lay, you had a hard life, it’s not only okay, but it’s expected that you would have some sad emotions when you think about your past.”
She moved her face away from his hand and sat back against the seat. “No, that might be how you would react, but, not me. Being upset, crying, being scared, not only is that a waste of energy, it’s dangerous. That can get you killed on the street. I wasn’t allowed to have those feelings, when something happened, you dealt with it and moved on, you didn’t dwell on it, and you certainly didn’t cry over it.”
“Layla, you are not on the street anymore, maybe because you’re starting to feel safer, the emotions you’ve been suppressing are coming out.” Spencer sighed as he watched her shake her head and stare off out of the window. “Let’s get you home.”
***
“Maybe she should talk to someone. I’m sure Dr. Conner would see her.”
Spencer sighed as he rolled his stiff neck before staring back at his phone. He looked at his mother who laid in her bed. He could hear her machines going off in the background.
“How are you?” he asked, trying to change the subject. He didn’t know why but he felt that sending Layla to a therapist would not end well.
Catherine shrugged but gave her son a reassuring smile. “Honestly, I would rather be home. I don’t feel as though any of this is working much better. If anything, I feel more ill, and I miss you all so much.”
“Aren’t you enjoying your time with Matthew?”
Catherine sighed and gave her son a look that told him not to start. “Your father has been busy with work and has been staying at his office. He is having to deal with a lot of changes due to Landon being let go and getting things ready for when Samantha flies over.”
Spencer removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mom, why don’t you just come home. If you don’t want to do the treatments and Matthew isn’t there, you should come back here.”
“You need to work on your book, love, and stop worrying about me for a little bit.”
He rolled his eyes. “I worry about you more now that you are over there than I ever did here.”
Catherine smiled softly. “I love you, son. Now go get some rest, please.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Mom.” Spencer ended the video call and sighed. He felt the weight of the stress from everything hit him. His mother was sick and alone and across the world, Layla was breaking down and didn’t want to talk about it, his best friend was busy trying to comfort Liam. The only person he felt like he could talk to and vent to was about to fly to a different country, and hadn’t spoken to him since he called her out for having feelings for his girlfriend, and to top it all off, he was coming to the deadline for his publisher.
He opened his nightstand drawer and saw his medication. He sighed, closing it back up and getting off of his bed. He walked down the hall and saw Layla sitting on the floor with her headphones on, sketching away. Deciding not to disturb her, Spencer made his way downstairs and to his brother’s bar room.
He turned the light on and grabbed a bottle of Walker Blue Label off of the bar and sat on the couch. He looked at the bottle of scotch and sighed. He knew he shouldn’t drink it. He knew when Layla found out, and she would, she would be disappointed in him. He knew that he should be responsible, take his anxiety medication, and just relax. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to forget everything, just for a little while. He wanted to not think about the weight of every single person that he had to carry. He was exhausted, and honestly at his breaking point. But he wasn’t allowed to break, he had to be the strong man that took care of everyone.
“Fuck it, not tonight. Tonight, I’m getting drunk and everyone can piss off,” he muttered as he flicked the cap off.
***
Layla groaned and laid her pencil on the floor before she stretched her stiff muscles. She smiled at her sketchpad in satisfaction. “If she doesn’t accept that, then I’ll take the fail. I wonder what time it is.” Layla’s blue eyes widened when she saw her phone read 10pm. She had been on the floor for hours. “I wonder why Spencer hasn’t checked in.” She walked down the hall and tapped on the closed door. “Spencer? Are you okay?” When she was greeted with silence, she gently pushed the door open and looked around the empty room. “Where is he?” she muttered as she made her way down the staircase and headed to the kitchen.
After checking several of the rooms, Layla groaned as she looked down the hall. She made her way to the bar and rolled her eyes as she walked in. Spencer sat, with his head in his arm, resting on the bar top. She snatched the bottle from his grip and searched around until she found the forgotten cap on the floor. She placed the bottle back on the shelf before staring and the stirring man in front of her.
“Hey pretty lady,” he slurred while clumsily getting off of the barstool.
Layla rolled her eyes. “Let’s get you to bed. There is no use scolding you tonight when you are this plastered.”
Spencer raised a dark brow. “Scold me? Excuse me? I can drink if I want.”
“Yes, you’re right, now can we please get you to bed?”
Spencer stared at her in silence, Layla went to grab his arm to usher him out of the room when he snatched it away. “Who are you to tell me what to do? You aren’t my mother.”
Layla raised a brow. “Spencer, I’m just trying to get you to bed, why are you acting so hostile towards me?”
“Yeah! ‘Cause that’s what I am, right? Spencer the drunk, Spencer the asshole, never Spencer the guy that does everything and is suffocating, no I’m never that.”
“I never said you were a drunk or an asshole! I said you are drunk and you’re being hostile. If you want to sit here and drink and not talk to me about what’s going on, then go ahead!” Layla’s voice shook a little as she yelled at him. Yelling was not her strong suit and, though she cared for Spencer and trusted him, she would be a liar if she said that he wasn’t intimidating, especially now with his dark expression. His brows were furrowed, his soft lips were twisted into a snarl, those emerald eyes that she loved so much looked cold and angry. She shifted uncomfortably as he took a step towards her.
“You have a lot of balls talking to me like that when you have your own demons you don’t talk about,” he growled as he took another step.
Layla backed up until she felt the wall hit her. “Spencer,” she breathed as she looked up at him. “Please stop, okay. I don’t want to fight, and you’re really scaring me right now.”
Spencer looked down at the small girl, her body trembled, her eyes were wide with fear. He felt rage suddenly course through his whole body. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”
Layla went to
speak but didn’t have a chance. Before she could register what happened, Spencer’s fist was in the wall next to her head. She stood as still as she could, though her body continued to tremble.
“After all I’ve done for you… THIS is what you think,” he growled as he removed his hand from the wall. “What? Are you afraid of me like those homeless fuckers? Like Landon? All I do is protect you and you’re afraid of me?”
Layla let out a small cry as he threw a chair across the room. “Spencer, please! I’m sorry! I want to help you, I don’t think you’re like them, but you ARE scaring me.” Layla couldn’t stop the tears, what did she do wrong? Why was he so angry with her?
Spencer walked over to the table that sat in the corner. “Well, if you’re so afraid of me, if I’m such a bastard, then get the fuck out.”
“S…Spencer listen—” Layla pushed herself off the wall and got one step towards him.
“I SAID GET OUT!” he roared, as he grabbed another chair and threw it across the room. Layla ducked and the chair missed her. She slowly backed away before turning and running out of the room, leaving Spencer to continue his destruction.
While running out of the house, she bumped into Samantha who was coming home from her last night at the office. “Lay, what is wrong?”
Layla couldn’t think, she just collapsed against Samantha and sobbed. “I can’t… he… Sam, I need to leave.”
Samantha raised a brow but nodded and led her to her car. “Come on, I’ll take you to Jensen’s, you can explain when we get there.” Layla gave her a weak ‘thanks’ as she got in the car and Samantha sped off.
What had just happened? Was that the real Spencer? She started to think of all the cruel things that he had done in the past to her when she was homeless. Was that really him and he was finally showing his true colors? Was the kind man that she had fallen for the facade? She put her head in her hands and started to cry. What was she going to do? How could she ever look at him the same way again? He was her home, who she felt the safest with, but now she truly felt homeless again.