by Lisa N. Paul
Rachel stretched her arm across the tabletop, and the touch of her hand infused Lyla with the same comfort Rachel had been providing since the night they first met. “I may have given you the tools to succeed, but every day that you moved forward was a step you took on your own. As for the hugs, there may have been a few more than you wanted, but I’ll admit, I was making out on that deal, too.” Rachel shrugged and gave an exaggerated wink.
Lyla allowed her lips to curve into a smile that was reserved for Rachel. One that, while filled with affection and love, they both knew was still restrained. Lyla didn’t intentionally hold back those things so much as parts of her were empty, broken, and the guarded affection she gave to Rachel was literally all she had left to give.
***
“OH MY GOD,” Lyla whispered as she gripped Rachel’s arm and yanked her into the hallway of the freshman dorm. “You can’t leave me here with her. Did you see her, all prim and proper a-and neat? Her books are lined up in pristine little stacks, her pencils are perfectly sharpened, and she’s folding her clothes just so. Her housekeeper probably taught her how to do it, so no pesky wrinkles would mar her sweet pink Tshirts. Pink! Ick!” Lyla attempted, unsuccessfully, to push the silken strands of hair that had escaped her scrunchie back behind her ears. “I can’t live like this, Rach. I’ll go crazy. She probably comes from a perfect little family in a perfect little house and a perfect little world and now I’m gonna be stuck with her.”
The knot in her stomach clenched as anxiety spiked through her system. Living in a small space was hard, claustrophobic even, but at least during the summer session, she’d had a single room. Now the space was a bit larger, but she had to share it. I knew this would happen. Why did I let Rachel convince me to get a double room?
As Lyla inwardly chastised herself, Rachel stood silently, arms crossed with her no-nonsense look plastered across her face. Seeing disappointment on her foster mom’s face wasn’t something Lyla was used to. In fact, she could count on one hand with a couple of fingers left over the number of times she had seen that look.
The acute slice of regret that hit her gut felt as sharp as a knife. “What? Just say it. I can practically see the ‘Give her a chance’ speech seeping from your ears.”
With a gentle hand and a quiet tone, Rachel successfully tucked the lock of hair behind Lyla’s ear and said, “You’re scared. Shh, shh, don’t speak, honey, just listen. This summer, you were here at school, but you were in your own room. So at night, you could almost pretend to be home. Here, now, there’s no pretending. I’m not blind, honey. You keep people at arm’s length. That’s why I pushed for therapy as long as I did. Just because you no longer live under my roof doesn’t mean the memories of our years together have magically disappeared. I know you.”
Lyla shivered at the words. Dealing with the memories at night was bad enough… bringing the monsters into the daylight hours was something Lyla avoided at all costs.
“That girl in there”—Rachel pointed at the dorm room—“she doesn’t know you. She can’t look at you and see your demons. All she sees is a gorgeous dark-haired, blue-eyed girl, not unlike herself. Look at her. You see all that so-called perfection? How her stuff is neat and organized? Pay attention to more than the surface, honey. See that her stuff may be cared for, but that doesn’t make it new. It may be loved, but that doesn’t make it flawless. Look and maybe, just maybe, you’ll realize you aren’t the only one with demons. If I’m wrong and she comes from perfect, is heading toward perfect, and is perfect everywhere in between, then she’ll see your strength and want nothing more than to have you standing by her side. So I guess you were right, I am going to tell you to give her a chance. You never know, maybe you two will become more than roommates. Maybe”—Rachel feigned a gasp—“you could become friends.”
“Jeez, did you have that whole thing memorized or was it off the cuff?” Lyla teased, accepting Rachel’s advice before conceding. “I’m not sure what I would have done without you. But thank you for everything. Really. I hope you know how much you mean to me.”
Hazel eyes softened as Rachel’s arms opened wide, welcoming Lyla into a hug. “Of course I do, honey. I love you too.”
Did Lyla love Rachel? Yes. Both Rachel and Lyla knew that. But the actual words had never left Lyla’s mouth, and Rachel had never seemed to need to hear them. Lyla hadn’t uttered those words in many years and she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to say them ever again. But if anyone earned her deepest affection, it was the woman who held her close.
While Rachel’s lips where pressed to the top of her head, Lyla sighed. Rachel said, “You’re gonna give pink a fair chance.” It wasn’t a question or a demand, just a statement of truth.
Lyla had only one response. “I prefer red, but who knows. Maybe pink can grow on me.”
Giggles followed them back into the small dorm room, where they continued to unpack and Lyla and Janie began to get to know one another.
***
LYLA HAD BEEN wrong. Pink wasn’t perfect. In fact, Janie’s life was far from the glamorous fairy tale Lyla had assumed. And as usual, Rachel was right—the two girls became friends in a way only roommates could.
Even though their beginning was a bit strange, stilted, and awkward, the girls quickly fell into a routine in their small room. They respected each other’s privacy—Janie gave Lyla as much space as one could possibly have in such a tiny space. In return, Lyla shared meals in the cafeteria and TV time with Janie.
It wasn’t long after the girls started living together that Lyla woke up covered in sweat, throat raw from screaming, and Janie sitting by her side. The first few times the nightmares occurred, Lyla apologized to her roommate before they went back to sleep and, in the morning, pretended the situation had never occurred. Since Janie allowed Lyla that space, Lyla’s affection grew until one day, she opened her mouth to ask for a soda from the mini refrigerator and the story of her past (most of it anyway) popped out. When horror and fear draped over Janie’s face, instead of the pity and disgust Lyla has anticipated, Lyla’s like for her roommate became true gratitude, affection, and something more.
From that point on, their shared meals and TV time became girls’ nights either out or in front of the television, together time at the library or the gym and time just talking. They got to know each other better than Lyla had ever known another person. While Lyla didn’t drop her walls completely, Janie gained more access to Lyla’s thoughts than Lyla would have ever believed possible.
***
A PILE OF fresh dirt and a dark deep hole. Light rain fell around her, but all Lyla could see was the dirt. All she could think about was the depth of the hole. All she felt was nothing. Numbness had crept into her body and spread like poison through her veins until she was nothing more than a body trudging through motions that her mind couldn’t, wouldn’t process.
She had spoken with Rachel on Sunday evening—their weekly call.
Their last conversation.
A brain aneurism. That was what had taken Rachel away from her. She didn’t suffer, Rachel’s brother, Bobby, had told Lyla when he called to inform her of the situation. It was painless.
“Painless?” Lyla had screamed into the disconnected phone after Bobby said he was sending a car up to the campus to collect Lyla and bring her home. How could something that was painless be shredding her to pieces?
That was four days earlier. Before the numbness, the cold, the emptiness. Before her mind shut down, not allowing her to mourn another loss or traipse into a past filled with more darkness than the gap in the ground could ever contain. The hole slowly filled, the dirt replaced, silence all around her.
Lyla kneeled at the fresh grave. “How can you be here? How is that even possible?” Unaware of, or perhaps grateful for, the increase in the steady rain, she gripped the fresh dirt like a small child would the sand. “Rachel?” Her hoarse voice sounded strange to her own ears. “Rachel! Why? You took me in. Cared for me. Loved me. Why? Why did you leav
e me too? I never got to tell you that I loved you, but I do. I do. I love you. I’m sorry I never told you. I know you know it, but you deserved to hear it. Fuck… shit, I’m cursing and you’re too dead to be annoyed.” Lyla’s nose burned as warmth flooded her eyes and tears escaped down her cheeks. Tears she had held back since she was thirteen. “You’re my touchstone. How am I gonna get through without you, Rach? How? I’m alone in this world. Alone.”
“You’ll never be alone, Lyla.”
The gentle touch on her shoulder startled her, but she didn’t need to turn around to know who was speaking.
“We found each other, and you’ll never ever be alone again.”
In that moment, one of the darkest of her life, Lyla found the proverbial light Rachel had always spoken of. In Janie Silver’s words, Lyla felt truth. And for the first time, she grabbed onto it and trusted that things would be okay.
Chapter Seven
Deny, Deny, Deny
LYLA SLID THROUGH her kitchen in fluffy socks, giving Tom Cruise’s Risky Business character a run for his money while she waited for her mug to fill with coffee. Out of protein bars, cereal, and milk, her stomach growled its frustration. She’d gotten so used to Janie dropping off breakfast or sending dinner through the years that her friend’s kindness had become something she relied on.
Not cool, Lyla, not cool at all. It’s Saturday. The girl has better things to do early in the morning than bring you food. “Jeez, get your lazy ass to the market.”
Her cell phone trill stopped Lyla mid-pace.
“Jane, I was just thinking about you,” she said by way of greeting.
“Hmm, it’s early, so you must be hungry,” Janie said through a yawn.
“You know, I think about you all the time, not just—”
“Cut the shit, Ly.”
“Okay, fine. I’m starving. And I realized now that you’re a married lady, you’re probably all wrapped up in your hunk o’ man, having sex for breakfast. I have to get my own food.”
Lyla smiled at the giggle that came through the phone. “Sweetie, you do need to learn to feed yourself. It’s not like you can’t do it. You’re a wiz in the kitchen, and you can order groceries online and have them delivered straight to your door. Then you wouldn’t have to talk to any random people.” Janie’s response, while said in jest, held quite a bit of truth.
Since the alley attack in the spring, Lyla had shied away from most people—especially public places, especially when she was out by herself. She claimed it was because she couldn’t handle basic human stupidity, but she knew—hell, the whole group knew—she felt out of control in her own skin. For fuck’s sake, she carried her stun gun and Ruger .357 LCR in her purse whenever she left the house. Getting the permit to carry a concealed weapon was the first thing she’d done when she got back on her feet.
The irony of being unable to pick out produce, yet still bringing home random men to fuck and forget wasn’t lost on her, but in her house, she felt in control, even if that was a false sense of security. With weapons stashed in almost every room and her inability to truly relax until the flavor of the evening was gone, Lyla was actually more confident fucking a stranger than making small talk about the price of milk.
“Hey, are you there?” Janie’s voice pulled Lyla from her thoughts.
“Yeah.”
“So… because I’m the best friend ever, I’m having breakfast sent to you. It should be there any minute.”
“Jane, you didn’t have to do that. I could have totally nibbled on my fingernails until lunch,” Lyla deadpanned.
“Mhmm, answer your door. I’m gonna go gorge on Max for breakfast.”
Lyla heard Max’s deep voice mumble something before the phone disconnected.
As if perfectly planned, the doorbell chimed and Lyla’s stomach gurgled. “Food’s here,” she announced to her belly.
She strutted to the door, one hand on the stun gun in her pocket while the other landed on the doorknob. She pressed her eye to the peephole and groaned at the vision on the opposite side of the door. Goddamn it, Janie.
“Open up, Ly,” Kyle’s voice boomed through the thick door. “I know you’re in there. Janie said she spoke with you. And I have your breakfast.”
There was no doubting the confidence in Kyle’s tone. He knew she would never turn him away, not when he came bearing food. When his knock got louder, Lyla sighed and opened the door.
“‘Bout damn time. I was freezing my balls off out there.” Kyle pecked Lyla on the cheek.
“Can’t have anything happening to your boys. Cate would never forgive me,” Lyla snarked, grabbing the paper sack from Kyle’s grip and heading directly for the kitchen. “Speaking of Cate, it’s barely nine o’clock. Why aren’t you having breakfast with her?”
“Already gave her a long, hard, hot breakfast.” He snickered.
Lyla rolled her eyes. “Classy, Ky.”
“Whatever, like you’d expect anything else from me. Anyway, Cate and Elliot are already at work. They’re doing a party this afternoon and another one tonight.”
Since Kyle’s girlfriend and her best friend owned the most successful party planning company in the county, Cate worked odd hours. But that seemed to work fine for the couple.
“A morning to yourself? Why aren’t you at the gym? Or better yet, sleeping?” The heavenly scent of cinnamon permeated the air, tickling her nose and making her mouth water. “Challah French toast?” She sighed. “How did you know? Better yet, what do you want?”
Lyla grabbed cutlery for two from the drawer, poured Kyle a mug of coffee, and opened the small pint of milk that was included in her breakfast bag. Only Jane could have placed this order.
“I spoke with Janie last night. Told her I wanted to talk to you but had a feeling you wouldn’t be available. She suggested I bring something easy, like bagels.”
“Bagels?” The beautiful display of French toast, fruit, and milk was a far cry from bagels.
“Yeah, honey, bagels. This spread was all me. You know she isn’t the only one who knows you. Nor is she the only one who pays attention. Now take a bite. Your eyes get real big when you have your first taste and it’s cute.”
Cute my ass, she thought, piling toast and strawberries onto her fork and stuffing it in her mouth. Mmm, heavenly.
Kyle lifted the coffee to his mouth in a failed attempt to hide his smile.
“Take some.” Lyla offered, hoping he’d refuse. However, when he shook his head and lifted his eyes to hers, she wanted to shove the sugary confection in his mouth just to ward off the conversation that was no doubt about to take place. Shit, she needed to stop allowing herself to be bribed with sweets.
“It’s time for that talk you evaded on Thursday night.”
Deny, deny, deny! She swallowed the food that no longer tasted like decadence. “Ky…”
“You’ve been pulling away from everyone. Keeping yourself imprisoned in this house, coming out for no more than a handful of hours each week, and even when you’re out, it feels like it’s due to obligation.”
Her stomach cramped at the word imprisoned. The food turned to lead in her belly.
“Don’t deny it, and most of all, don’t insult our relationship by trying to feed me bullshit.” Lyla attempted to interrupt, but the glare in Kyle’s green eyes all but dared her to try. “You and me, honey, are cut from the same damn cloth. You knew it from day one. I”—he shook his head in what appeared to be shame—“I took a little longer to figure it out. Now that I have, I will never let you down and I will never let you fade away—not from yourself or from us. You’re my sister, Ly. In every way that counts.”
Love, tenderness, and fear swirled through her. Complex, scary emotions that, due to her past and what was to come, freaked her the fuck out. So instead of hugging Kyle and thanking him for his love, a love she felt deep in her bones, she did what she did best. Lyla Dalton got angry.
The legs of her chair scraped the hardwood as she sprang from the seat an
d slammed her palms on the table. “You and me, huh?” Her voice tight to keep said emotion from leaking from her body. “If you were so busy looking out for me, then why did you throw me under the bus?” Kyle’s confused look only fueled Lyla’s flame. “Instead of coming to me when you saw my house on the market, you contacted Max and Janie on their honeymoon? Who the fuck does that? Janie deserved that time to unwind, to be free and in love, and you took that from her. Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re probably the asshole who tanked all of the prospective sales too. You and me? Ha! Did you ever think I was trying to get out of this fucking town to save all of you from something horrible? You have Cate. The two of you have been through enough.”
She clasped her hands behind her back to hide the shaking that had started. She didn’t want Kyle to see how badly the venom she was spewing pained her. She had no choice. There was a chance she would need to leave Charistown, and aside from Janie, who had threatened an all-out manhunt if Lyla ever left without providing contact information, she needed to sever the strongest bonds first. It was better for everyone.
Pulling in a deep breath, she went for the kill. “I don’t want you, Kyle. Not as a brother. Not as friend.”
Green eyes sparked as Kyle lifted his mug and took a deep gulp before replacing it on the table. The thought of not having his friendship caused her physical pain, but she was used to worse and would eventually numb herself to it.
A steady sense of calm seemed to exude from Kyle’s broad six-foot-three frame. It was in that moment Lyla realized she’d never seen her close friend so serenely happy. Inside, she wept with joy that her friend, her brother, a man who had been nothing more than shards of brokenness, was now whole. Complete. At peace. She loved that for him. Even if he never spoke to her again, she knew she was leaving him in a much better place than where she found him.
“Did you hear me?” he said.