Lusting After Layla

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Lusting After Layla Page 9

by Theresa Paolo


  “The rest were my family, and you fucked them over.”

  “And you didn’t?”

  Declan’s jaw tightened, the veins in his neck and forehead tense. In order to get off without doing time, Declan sold them out, all of them…but he’d had his reasons. On the inside, he was a traitor, but on the outside, he did what he had to do to survive.

  “They weren’t your family. They wanted you dead, and I saved your ass. You’re welcome.”

  Things had shifted in that last year, tensions had grown, and when it came down to it, he knew it was either rat on the people who were the closest thing to family he had or find himself six feet under by the same men. He’d broke the cardinal rule of the club, and he put a permanent target on his back.

  O’Reilly was correct about one thing though; they were not his family. He knew the moment his father was killed. Yes, they pretended to care about him and looked after him out of obligation and respect for his old man, but with him gone, there was a war brewing within the club, and he was caught in the middle. He was nothing like his father or the other club members, and they all knew it. The only problem was, he knew too much about the inner workings of the club and the only way to get rid of him would have been to make sure he met the same fate as his old man, so as much as he didn’t want to admit it, O’Reilly was right.

  After his dad died, some of the members wanted to start to sell drugs to innocent people and weapons to dangerous low lives. Drugs were the one thing his old man refused to get involved in. Drugs killed his old lady, and he’d be damned if he sold them. He might not have been a law-abiding citizen, but he’d had that much going for him.

  As the years passed and tensions grew, Declan couldn’t help but wonder if his dad’s death was an inside job. O’Reilly had shown up just as things were starting to get ugly and possibly even saved Declan’s life.

  Everyone who Declan betrayed was locked up and weren’t even up for parole for years, but that didn’t mean he was safe. They knew people on the outside, other chapters, people who were capable of despicable crimes, but it’d been five years and no one had bothered to find him.

  He finally started to move away from the anchors holding him so firmly to his past, and he wasn’t going to let O’Reilly take that from him now. “You know, it’s real great reminiscing about old times and all, but I have shit to do, so you either have a point to make or you’re wasting my time.”

  “Trigger’s getting out.”

  Every muscle in Declan’s body froze. Trigger was one of the members of the motorcycle club who got his nickname for being trigger happy. Declan knew for a fact he’d killed people, but nobody knew how many. While he was a cold-blooded killer who wouldn’t know what remorse was if it bit him in the ass, he was also a master at cleaning up messes so nothing could ever get traced back to him. He could have easily had the nickname Hoover or Bissell.

  He had been arrested with the rest of the club, but they found the least evidence to charge him with. Declan knew the day would come when Trigger would get out, but it wasn’t supposed to be any time soon.

  Of all people, Trigger would want revenge. Declan single handedly took down the entire club with O’Reilly’s help, putting an end to what the world knew as Satan’s Children O.M.G.

  “How?” Declan asked.

  “He’s getting out on good behavior.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Trigger couldn’t behave for a day if he was offered a million dollars. How the hell did he manage for five damn years?

  “Word on the street is he’s trying to regroup,” O’Reilly said.

  “I’m not surprised,” Declan said. Trigger didn’t have any other way of life; the club was all he knew. He had been too high on the totem pole to try and find his way into another club. He wanted to be the one calling the shots. “At least it’ll keep him busy. He’s already on the feds’ radar; I’m sure he’s on probation. One infraction, and they can have his ass locked up again.”

  “You and I both know it is never that easy.” O’Reilly ran a hand over his clean-shaven face that once was covered by a beard. Without the beard, he looked like a cop. O’Reilly moved up on the edge of the stool. “Gears.” Declan’s teeth clenched at his old identity—a nickname he hadn’t heard uttered in five years, and he wanted to keep it that way. He didn’t associate with that nickname anymore, and he never would again. Luke was one thing, but Gears was something entirely different. Gears brought up too many memories, regrets, and a deep-seeded anger for all that went down. Besides, the brotherhood would no longer refer to him as Gears. They’d only see him as Snitch now.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  O’Reilly held his hands up. “Sorry. Old habits die hard.”

  “Maybe for you, but if you haven’t noticed, I’ve moved on. I did what you asked of me, and I washed my hands of it all so why the hell—?”

  “He’s gunning for you.”

  “What?”

  “One of the inmates overheard him talking to someone, and he promised them when he got out, he would hunt you down and make you pay.”

  “Fuck!” Declan thrust his hands into his hair and spun away from O’Reilly. He paced the length of the bar, back and forth, back and forth. “When is he getting out?”

  “Next month.”

  The people of this town had become his family and by staying he would be putting every single one of them in danger, especially Layla. If Trigger found out he had feelings for her, he would use that as leverage.

  “What are you going to do?” O’Reilly asked.

  Declan stopped pacing, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned against the back of the bar. “Honestly, I have no idea.”

  “If I were you, I’d stay low.”

  “What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing for the past five years? You’re the one who showed up here, possibly leading Trigger right to my front door and putting not only me but this town in danger. There are good people here; they don’t deserve my fucked up past showing up.”

  “I told you I wasn’t tailed. I picked up a new rental three towns over and took a million poorly lit backroads. If someone was following me, I would’ve known.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  The bell above the door banged, and Declan jumped to attention, hand reaching for the barstool in case he needed to defend himself. He let out a sigh of relief when Layla walked in in her purple scrubs. Her hair was tossed up, brown hair falling from her ponytail.

  She looked like she worked a long day yet still managed to look beautiful. He couldn’t think about that now, though. Not when he was in the middle of talking life or death.

  “Layla what the f—” He stopped himself, reigning in his untapped emotions. He didn’t want Layla anywhere near O’Reilly. “I mean, what are you doing here?”

  “Wow, it’s nice to see you, too,” she said, eyes narrowing.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I know. I had Maxine take my shift. She needs the money more than I do, so I came here to surprise you.”

  “It’s just a really bad time.”

  She forced a smile, and he wanted to beat the shit out of himself for making her feel anything but happy, but the last thing he wanted was for Layla to be anywhere near O’Reilly.

  “Understood,” she said. “I should’ve called. That’s my fault.” She took a deep breath and turned to O’Reilly. “I’m sorry I interrupted. I’m Layla, by the way. And you are?”

  “He was just leaving,” Declan said before O’Reilly could make a damn peep. Declan glared at him, a silent threat to keep his mouth shut. For once the bastard listened.

  “Declan, don’t be rude.”

  O’Reilly’s eyebrow lifted at the unfamiliar name. Luckily the bastard kept his mouth shut. He gave a nod. “I’ll be in touch. Layla, it was very nice to meet you.” Then O’Reilly left as quickly as he came, and Declan wished he could’ve sighed in relief, but his muscles were un
comfortably tight. Every nerve in his body was on edge, and he was back to waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “Want to tell me what that was all about?” Layla asked, and Declan closed his eyes because he had no idea what he was going to say to her. He didn’t want to lie, but he couldn’t tell her the truth. The less she knew the better. He wasn’t lying to her per se; he was protecting her. “Interesting. Okay I’m going to go then.”

  “No!” he blurted. There was no way in hell he was letting her out of his sight. O’Reilly insisted he wasn’t tailed, but even the best of the best could be outsmarted, and when it came to Layla, Declan wasn’t taking any chances. Trigger might have still been locked up, but who knew what connections he had on the outside?

  Layla threw her hands in the air, a perturbed look on her face. “First it was a bad time, and now you don’t want me to go. Which one is it, Dec?”

  Dec. Now that was a nickname he liked.

  “It was a bad time, but it’s not anymore. I’m happy you’re here.”

  “Are you? Because you look like someone pissed in your beer.”

  He laughed, surprised he was able to, given the circumstances. “Get over here,” he said, reaching out to her. She hesitated for only a moment before stepping into his arms. He pulled her against him, her soft brown hair brushing against his cheek, the scent of vanilla consuming him and making him hungry for her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and he pulled back, looking down at her as his brows tugged in confusion.

  “What are you sorry for?” he asked. If anyone should be sorry it was him.

  “I wanted to surprise you, but I should’ve called first. Made sure you were free. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

  “No,” Declan said. “I’m always free for you, baby girl.” He kissed her forehead, and she tightened her hold on his waist.

  “I don’t want to pry, but you seemed upset when I walked in.”

  Declan took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to find the right words to navigate this. He had already told her his sad life story; it wasn’t his fault she happened to be asleep when he did. And now, knowing too much could put her in harm’s way, and there was no way in hell he’d consciously do that. He swallowed. “He’s someone from my past is all. I didn’t expect to see him ever again. We didn’t exactly part on friendly terms.”

  “What brought him here?”

  “Bullshit from our past. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Okay,” she said, and he loved her for letting it go.

  “I have to count out the drawer then I can get out of here. Do you mind waiting?”

  “Not at all.” She let her bag fall off her arm and placed it on a stool before taking up residency on the stool beside it.

  “Want me to make you a cup of coffee while you wait?” he asked.

  She pursed her lips together and tilted her head as if she was in deep thought. “I think I’ll skip the coffee tonight.”

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I have no reason to stay up, so I don’t need the caffeine.”

  “I can think of a few reasons why you would need to stay up.” He gave her a wink, and she bit her bottom lip, her teeth pulling at the plump swell.

  “I don’t need coffee for that,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and making him harden in his pants. He adjusted himself and got back to counting the money, hoping like hell he could keep them both safe.

  Chapter 12

  Layla set the mascara in the makeup bag Brooke had given her two Christmas’ ago and sighed. Spending the rest of her days in this house alone with no one to come home to and no one to see her off in the morning sounded awful. She wished Declan would’ve stayed until she’d woken up, but knowing he was there for most of the night was nice.

  Her phone rang, and she picked up her cell to see a video call coming in from Chase. It was as if he knew she needed a reminder that no matter how far away he or Brooke was, Layla would never be alone. She quickly clicked to answer.

  “Hey!” she exclaimed, happy to see his face and giving it a once over to make sure all was okay. His dark brown hair with hints of copper was cut short on the sides and only slightly longer on top. It was usually brushed into place, but right now it stuck up in different directions which meant he’d been running his hands through his hair. He was either frustrated, confused, or overthinking. By the half-hearted smile, she could tell it was the latter.

  She met his gray eyes through the screen. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “How do you know something is going on?”

  “Because I’ve known you since you were born, so out with it.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little black box. Her heart thrummed in her chest. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked, trying her hardest to keep the excitement from her tone. Maybe he’d already asked Bex to marry him and she’d said no, but that was impossible. Bex was in love with Chase, and they were perfect for each other.

  He popped the top, confirming it was exactly that. Staring back at her was a beautiful single cut diamond ring. It wasn’t over-the-top or flashy. It was gorgeous in its simplicity and the perfect ring for Bex who was nothing like the Hollywood starlet the tabloids made her out to be.

  “I was going to propose.”

  “Oh wow, Chase, it’s beautiful.” Going. The word was a dose of cold water on a hot summer day. She smiled at him then her eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean you were going to?”

  The hurt in his eyes squeezed at her heart. She wished she could reach through the screen and wrap him in a hug, but she couldn’t.

  “What if I’m not enough?” he asked, his voice merely a whisper.

  “She loves you.” It was a statement Layla could stand by. She knew without a shred of doubt that Bex was madly in love with Chase. Chase didn’t look convinced though.

  Layla wasn’t able to be with him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still be there for him. He’d called her because he needed someone to tell him the truth, give him the courage to follow through, and that person had always been her. Just because he was thousands of miles away didn’t mean she couldn’t be that person for him.

  She knew exactly where this self-doubt was coming from. “Stop listening to the tabloids.” Those damn tabloids made Layla want to go down to their office and make every person whoever wrote a sentence about her brother wish they never had. At first, they loved the fact that Bex Shepard was dating a small-town fireman who rescued cats from trees and helped little old ladies cross the street, but lately they’d turned a new leaf, mostly thanks to their lowlife father.

  “They don’t know what they’re talking about,” she said. “Ignore them.”

  “It’s kind of hard to when they are literally everywhere I turn. And we haven’t been together that long. People will think I’m only marrying her for her money.”

  “Are you?” Layla asked even though she knew the answer.

  “Of course not,” he scoffed. “Why would you even ask me that?”

  “To prove to you that it’s not why you’re marrying her and you know that, and at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. Who cares what all these people are saying? People are always going to have an opinion, and sometimes it’s going to be so wrong it’s offensive, but you have to remember they don’t matter. You love Bex, and she is crazy about you, and that’s all you need to focus on.”

  “You’re right. Screw them!” he exclaimed. “I want to marry her, and I’m going to ask her damn it. Everyone else be damned.”

  “That’s my boy!” Layla said, her heart filling with warmth. Seeing the smile on Chase’s face and knowing she’d get to see her brother happy with his dream girl, was more than she could have ever asked for.

  He jumped up, his face falling out of view. “I have to go.”

  “You better take pictures or video,” she said, wishing she could be there to help them celebrate.

  “I will. Thanks, Layla, I owe y
ou.”

  “No, you don’t.” It’s what she did, and she never expected payback from her siblings for the years of advice. Yes, she was their guardian and as such she took that role seriously, but she was also their sister and wanted nothing but the best for them. While they were grown and no longer needed her to sign off on things for them, in her heart she would always feel responsible for their well-being and would always be there when they needed her.

  “Give Bex a big hug for me and tell your sister to call me.”

  “I will! Oh! I forgot. I spoke with Sam and asked him if I could take another week, I told him about the proposal, and he said he’d get my shifts covered, so you’ll be free of me for a little while longer.”

  Now that she had Declan to fill her time, she didn’t mind the quietness of the house. “Enjoy yourself. You only propose once. Hopefully.”

  Chase laughed. “Thanks. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Layla leaned against the couch with a happy smile on her face. “They turned out all right,” she said to herself.

  Chapter 13

  The crowd at Calhoun’s grew as the first official day of the Fall Festival came to a close. Declan poured beers and helped wait tables. Luckily, Rina was getting better, and he didn’t have to frequently clean up spills and broken glass.

  He’d hired a few more people to help with the fall rush, and so far, everything was running smoothly. At least on the restaurant side. On the personal side, his mind was constantly aware, watching people as they took their seats, checking to see if anything about them was suspicious. Every time someone reached into their inner coat pocket, his body froze, jumping into high alert to attack and protect.

  The only things that had been taken out of inner coat pockets were wallets and cell phones, making him feel like a paranoid jackass. He reminded himself that Trigger wasn’t out yet, but that thought didn’t do much to take the edge off.

 

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