Heaven Hill Series - Complete Series

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Heaven Hill Series - Complete Series Page 62

by Laramie Briscoe


  “Why?”

  “There’s things I can’t talk about, that I won’t talk about. At night I still have dreams.”

  Tyler interrupted. “That doesn’t mean you’re going to hurt someone.”

  “But do you know how many men from my unit have?”

  “Those men aren’t you.”

  “They could be, they so easily could be, and I just don’t trust myself,” Layne whispered.

  The words he spoke were telling. This was the man who never asked why when he was told to do something; his hand never shook when he held a gun on another person. There was something else going on here.

  “Is it just with women? Or is it this woman?”

  Tyler was too observant for his own good. “All of them, but this one especially. This one means more than the rest of them combined.”

  “She knew you before you went to Iraq, right?”

  Getting up, Layne took the gloves off his hands and threw them down on the mat before running his hands over his wet scalp. “She did.” He blew out a deep breath. “Not many people did, but she did.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I’m not that same guy. I came back completely different, and if she spends enough time with me, she’s going to see that. Hell, she already does.”

  It was obvious that this was weighing heavily on Layne’s mind. That made it important to Tyler, but he had to wonder when exactly he had become the father-figure head for all of these young men. It made his palms twitchy and made him nervous to not steer them wrong. The only thing he could do was give Layne advice from his own experiences. “Who stays the same, Layne? We all grow, we all change, my brother.”

  “Like this?” He put his hands on his own chest. “Sometimes I feel like I want to rip the skin off my body—it’s so suffocating.”

  “Look,” Tyler shifted his legs and motioned for Layne to have a seat next to him on the mat, “the only thing I can tell you is from my experience, and I’m not going to pretend like I have any kind of experience with what you’re dealing with. While I have seen, done, and been a part of some crazy shit in my life, I’ve never been overseas with the Taliban chasing my ass. Please don’t think that I’m comparing myself to you.”

  “Even if you were, you’re a great big motherfucker, I think I’d let you get by with it.” Layne made a rare joke.

  Not able to help himself, Tyler chuckled. “You keep that attitude with me. Seriously though, like I was saying…we aren’t the same people any of us were a few years ago. Do you think that our life choices haven’t affected each of us? Personally, Meredith’s rape affected me in ways I’m still just beginning to come to grips with. I look at women differently; I look at my friends differently. It affected every part of my life. It’s not like tomorrow I’m going to wake up and feel like everything is a-fucking-okay with every part of it. I still get angry, and I still want to kill the bastard one more time. I have good days and bad days, just like she does.”

  The silence between the two of them really was deafening, Layne could hear it echoing in his ears as he flipped the words over and over in his brain. “I feel defective in some way.”

  “You aren’t,” Tyler told him again.

  Shutting off the part of his brain that wanted to share these feelings with another human being, Layne put his wall up. “You know what, just forget it. You’re never going to convince me that something’s not wrong with me. So just stop it.”

  The tone he used was that of a bratty teenager, and Tyler wanted to scream. Instead he did what he figured any father did that was worth his salt and brought out the disappointed shame. “I just told you not to ‘sir’ me, but you can damn well guarantee that if you take that flippant, know-it-all, smartass tone with me again, I’ll jerk a knot in your ass so fast that your head will spin. I’m trying to help you, and if you don’t want that help—then that’s fine, but don’t throw my goodwill back in my fucking face. You got that?”

  Layne was quiet for a few moments before he nodded his head. “Yeah, I got it.”

  Jessica walked into the main living area of the clubhouse. In the light of morning she felt awkward being in this place. As she made her way in, the two women who sat at the table stopped talking and smiled at her.

  “Hey, Jessica,” the blonde said and waved.

  “Bianca, right?”

  “That’s right. Can I get you anything to eat?” she asked as she went to stand up from the table.

  “Oh please, don’t get up on my account. If you just show me where everything is, I can make it myself.”

  The woman who sat there with her, this one with darker hair, shook her head. “No way, you’re a guest here. I’m Meredith by the way.”

  “She’s with Tyler, the tall Native American,” Bianca filled in.

  “I remember him, but really you don’t have to wait on me,” she argued again.

  “No, they really do, because if you touch a certain coffee mug, you’re bound to have some bad luck.”

  Bianca threw her head back and laughed. “Jagger’s had some bad luck with a coffee mug that Tyler uses that’s shaped like a pretty realistic-looking skull. Word has it that Tyler’s cursed it, but he’ll never tell.”

  “Just take my word for it,” Jagger told her as he came over to the table and dropped a kiss on Bianca’s forehead. “It’s cursed. I had a major run of bad luck after I touched that thing.”

  “Somewhere along the line, you got some good luck,” she joked as she grabbed hold of his cut and pulled him closer to her body.

  Meredith cleared her throat. “You’ll have to forgive the two of them. They’re a little sickening right now. Let’s go get you some breakfast.”

  It was on the tip of Jessica’s tongue to refuse again, to tell this new woman she had just met that she wasn’t really hungry. She was going to do that until her stomach picked that precise moment to growl loudly. “Guess I’m pretty hungry,” she laughed, her face burning with embarrassment.

  “What can I get for ya? We have just about everything here, and almost everybody eats something different for breakfast. I’m on a toast and strawberry jam kick right now,” she talked as she moved around the kitchen area.

  “I’ll have that too, then. Please don’t go to any trouble for me.”

  “It’s really not any trouble,” Meredith smiled.

  “Is Tyler your husband?” she tried to make conversation as she watched Meredith put four pieces of toast in a double toaster.

  “We’re committed to one another. Some people call it marriage; others just call it a committed relationship. We don’t really like to put a label on it.”

  That kind of reminded her of Hollywood. A lot of women her age were having children with men that they barely knew and kept saying they were in a “committed relationship”. She got the feeling that in this place the phrase was completely different.

  She kept her reply noncommittal. “As long as the two of you are happy.”

  “We are. Very happy!”

  The two of them stood in silence, Meredith humming along as she pulled two Styrofoam plates out of a cabinet along with two empty glasses. “Do you want orange juice?”

  “Sounds good.” Jessica noticed that she had seen most members of the club since she had gotten up, but she had yet to see Layne. “Do you know where Layne is?”

  “He and Tyler went to work out, which means they’re beating the shit out of each other. They like to box.”

  That wasn’t surprising; Layne had always seemed to be a hands on kind of guy. “Will they be doing it for very long?”

  Meredith checked her watch. “They’ve already been out there for over an hour. Hopefully they’ll be done soon. Tyler and I have an appointment.”

  Those last words were almost drowned out as the two sweaty men in question made their way into the kitchen, both breathing heavily, chugging on water bottles. Jessica had never been so starstruck, even in a room full of actors…these men were the real deal.

  Cha
pter Five

  “So what do you do on a normal day?” Jessica asked as she ate her toast and drank the orange juice Meredith had poured for her.

  Layne glanced up from the bagel and bacon he ate, almost like her question scared him. “Ya know, the usual.”

  She laughed. “No, I don’t know what the usual is. Remember? I’ve never been here before.”

  Did he tell her what they really usually did? Protection runs to help in the drug and gun trade, escort strippers out of strip joints, shake down a few people if they were paid enough money? “I usually work at the shop,” he told her. “Ya know, mostly oil changes, tire rotations, things like that. I have to go work there today, actually. Will you be okay by yourself?” Funny that he hated liars—what a hypocrite he turned out to be.

  Being by herself didn’t really appeal to her, but she knew that he also had a life that he had to live. To be honest, she had completely barged in on it, and she couldn’t be mad at him if he had things to do. “I will be. I actually have some things I need to do too. Is there Wi-Fi here? I need to hook up to the internet.”

  He nodded and pointed towards another man who sat at the table. “Steele can get you whatever you need.”

  “Okay, then I guess I’ll be set.” She smiled brightly, though they both knew it didn’t meet her eyes.

  “Great, I gotta go take a shower before I head in for my shift. I’ll see ya sometime tonight.”

  With those words he was gone, and she felt more alone than she ever had in her life. What had seemed like such a good idea before now seemed like it was the worst idea ever. She knew that was partly her fault. She wanted more than she’d ever told him and it was obvious it was more than he was able to give.

  “Harden that heart, girl,” she told herself as she watched him walk away, but she couldn’t help but remember the boy he used to be.

  Jessica looked out along the cars that were waiting in line at Jackson-Hartsfield Airport. She was never sure which one Layne would be driving. It always depended on who he could sweet-talk to give up their vehicle for a day or two. There was always someone willing to help him. He was well-liked in his unit, and they all thought it was awesome that a Hollywood actress hung out with them for a few days every couple of months.

  Using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she stepped further out onto the sidewalk, her gaze running up and down the cars, looking for something that would tell her which one Layne was in. Finally she saw it, a sticker that granted access onto the post at Fort Benning. It was a truck, a huge truck.

  “Layne!” she waved.

  He stuck his hand out the window, waving back at her.

  “I can’t get out, you’re gonna have to come over here,” he yelled.

  In this place, she wasn’t afraid that someone would see her and call the paparazzi, she could be herself for 48 hours with him. Knowing that, she did what any other young woman would do who was coming to see her soldier for a weekend and high-tailed it down the line, running as she got closer. The truck had a lift kit, and she reached up, grabbing the door handle. Once she swung it open, she threw her bag inside and then grasped the sides of the door frame, lifting herself into the passenger seat. Once there, she giggled as she struggled to shut the beast of a door.

  “Damn,” she laughed, situating herself in the seat.

  “That was cute,” he grinned at her. “Kind of hot too, the way you just boosted yourself on up.”

  His smile was contagious, and she couldn’t help but grin back. These days were her favorite, and she knew that with his deployment coming in a few months she would have to hold these dear to her. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

  “I most certainly did, Ms. Shea,” he mumbled as he leaned over, capturing her lips with his.

  The way her heart pounded when he did that told her more than anything just how much she cared about him, just how much she was willing to do anything he asked her to do. It was scary and amazing all at the same time. She leaned back as his hand came around and cupped the back of her head, forcing their lips to mesh even closer together. A loud honk from behind them made them break apart, both laughing as they did.

  “Guess we should get goin’, huh?” He grinned, licking his lips.

  “We definitely should,” she agreed.

  Every time Jessica made her way down south, Layne always had to wonder if this time would be the last. Would she finally figure out he was nothing special? Would she finally understand that all he would ever be was a grunt in the Army? Hell, who knew if he would even come home once he deployed. Lots of people from the other unit on his base had not and probably would not. That’s what made it so important for him to cherish this time with her. He reached over and grabbed her hand in his, bringing the back of her hand up to his lips.

  “I’m glad you were able to get away,” he said softly as they made their way off of airport property.

  “I am too.”

  They never stayed too far from the airport—that would cut into their time together—and it was always either one of two motels. Thankfully, no one had caught onto them yet, and hopefully they wouldn’t. These weekends with her were the only things that kept him sane, kept him from being too worried about going overseas. She was the only thing that made him feel like home. Which, in and of itself, was weird, considering he no longer had one. He pulled the truck into the parking lot and sent off a text to his friend that had let him borrow it, thanking him again, and letting him know that they had gotten there with no problems.

  “I got ya,” he told her as he saw her open the door and start to get out.

  Quickly, he got out of the truck and ran around to her side, reaching up to help her. His hands went to her hips and lifted her down, letting her body slide against his.

  “See, there are some definite advantages to having a lift kit on a truck.” He smirked before placing a kiss on her upturned neck.

  “Can’t say that this is something I ever see in California, but I will be thinking very differently about it from now on.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the lobby of the motel, checking them in quickly. The front desk clerk actually knew them from the other times they had been here. Layne was always careful to use his card, use his money, so that nothing could be traced back to Jessica. That was important to him. He would hate it if what they did behind closed doors became a part of what the American public knew about her. What they had was precious and secret and he loved it that way.

  Jessica’s hand gripped his as they made their way down the long hallway that led them to the room he had secured for them for the weekend. Her heart pounded and the excitement was flooding into every pore of her body. These were the times she lived for, the times when she could be herself.

  “Here it is,” he whispered, dropping her hand to slide the keycard in the door. The lock dis-engaged, and she allowed him to push her through before she dropped her bag.

  “Finally,” she breathed as she turned around and pushed him back against the door. “I’ve wanted to do this all day.” She buried her lips into his neck and latched her arms around him, pulling herself up. He caught her easily against him and walked them over to the bed, laying her down on it as the two of them raced to get their clothes off and bare skin against each other.

  “I love this time with you,” she moaned when his teeth caught her earlobe.

  I just love you, he thought, not able to give voice to those thoughts. Not yet. Instead he ground out, “Me too.”

  Hours later she sat in front of her laptop, hands shaking as she put in the web address of a popular gossip site. The man named Steele had been very polite and very quick in getting her laptop online for her. He had even given her some pointers with some browsing issues she had. On top of that, he’d found a virus and had fixed that too. Now she felt safe navigating around the internet. He assured her that while they used Wi-Fi, it couldn’t be tracked, so anyone who was trying to track where she was by any post she made wouldn’t be able to do so. The sign
al was scrambled, and her posts would show as being from many different places—but never Bowling Green, Kentucky.

  The browser window opened, and Jessica immediately wanted to puke. There on the front page was a picture of her, the nude parts of her body blacked out. There was a link at the bottom that said ‘not safe for work’. She assumed those were the completely nude ones. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have ever thought that no one would get hold of these pictures? Naive wasn’t even a good excuse. She had been flat out a dumbass, through and through.

  “Wow, is that you?”

  She had completely forgotten where she was, and the main living area of the clubhouse had been empty earlier. Twirling around, she saw Bianca.

  “Yeah, it is.” Her face flamed with mortification. “I didn’t mean for anyone else to see this.”

  “No reason to be upset…most of us here have what many would call ‘unsavory backgrounds’. I used to work in a strip joint.”

  “Really? And I’m sorry, what do you do now? Layne told me, but I can’t remember.”

  “I’m a teacher. I try to keep the fact that I worked in a strip joint kind of on the down low, but hey, a girl’s got to put herself through school somehow, right?”

  Jessica couldn’t help giggling. “You are so right about that.”

  “So why did you do it?” Bianca pointed towards the computer screen. “Did some boyfriend talk you into it?”

  “Yeah, he did. I had what were the only pictures—or so I thought up until a few days ago when they were stolen out of my house.”

  “Is that when you called Layne?” Bianca asked. She wasn’t being nosey, but she was curious. If she had a problem like that, Jagger would be the first person she would call.

  Jessica wanted to be honest with her newfound friend, but it was difficult. In Hollywood, it was hard to know who to trust, but she figured out here in Kentucky it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like this group of people needed any unwarranted media coverage. “Yeah, I figured if anyone could help me feel safe again, it would be him.”

 

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