by Lisa N. Paul
Janie
“LY, HONEY, TALK to me.” Janie held her breath, waiting for Lyla to speak.
In their years of friendship, she had seen Lyla at her best, which was always just shy of truly happy, and her worst—painfully devastated. Since they met at eighteen, Janie, unlike the rest of the world, could see through Lyla’s securely fastened mask. Unlike the rest of the world, Janie knew when to push and when to let things go. If she didn’t go on the offense now, the small window would close, leaving both her and Lyla in a dark place neither of them would thrive in.
“They say nightmares are always better in the daylight,” Lyla said flatly. “That’s not true. It’s not.”
The quiver in her friend’s voice brought tears to Janie’s eyes, but she refused to allow her emotions out when it was clear that Lyla needed her to be the strong one. “What happened?”
“He’s a monster. He was horrible, as vile, as horrid as he always was. He didn’t even try to hide it, he just…”
As Lyla began to cry, tears trekked down Janie’s face.
After about a half hour, and a story that blew Janie’s mind, the women disconnected. Lyla claimed she needed a nap, and Janie agreed. However, the knot in her belly was twisted to the point of pain. Luckily, Max texted that he was coming home early.
Never had she been more relieved than she was when she heard the garage door open.
“Babe, I’m home,” Max called as he walked into the house. The smile immediately fell from his lips the moment he saw her sitting on the couch with her legs curled beneath her and her eyes probably rimmed in red. Within a few long strides, he had her wrapped in his strong arms, holding her tight. “What’s wrong, baby? I’ll make it better.”
God, she loved her husband, but this was one time she doubted he could fix what was broken. And if he did, would Lyla ever forgive her?
Janie sobbed. “Max, I promised Lyla I wouldn’t share this… but I’m scared.”
“Of what? Talk to me.” He sat down and cradled her on his lap.
The warmth of his chest eased the chill that had taken over her body. After pulling in a deep breath, Janie told Max what she knew of Lyla’s past. How her father beat her. How he abused her to the brink of near death. She knew in her heart there was more to the story, secrets Lyla kept to herself. For as many times as she’d helped her friend move over the years, lugging the boxes Lyla kept taped closed as if they contained evil incarnate, Janie was never brave enough to snoop. Maybe it was out of respect for her friend, or maybe out of self-preservation.
“My God, that’s unbelievable.” Despair seeped from Max’s tone. “I mean, I’ve always known she was hiding something bad, but this… why have you never shared this with me?” Hurt reflected in his emerald eyes. “I’m your husband.”
Softly, Janie answered, “But she isn’t your wife.” At his confusion, Janie continued. “You have my heart, my love, my devotion, my honesty, my everything, but her secrets aren’t mine to give you.” A lump formed in her throat at the realization that she had, in fact, broken Lyla’s trust.
“Okay.” Max ran his knuckles down Janie’s jaw. “I respect that. I love you for that, but then why are you coming to me now?”
“Her father is up for parole. The hearing is next week. Apparently she found out before our wedding and didn’t tell me.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, so she decided to take a trip up to Rockview and visit the bastard. She didn’t tell me until she left. Said she had to go it alone. It must have been bad, awful, because she was crying.”
Max’s face registered the shock Janie had expected. Everyone knew Lyla didn’t show emotion, especially tears.
“Where is she?” he said as he stood and plucked his car keys from the counter.
“She was at her house when I spoke to her.” Tears once again filled Janie’s eyes as the memory of Lyla’s broken voice echoed in her ears. “She told me about the visit and then went on about things that didn’t make any sense at all. I’m frightened.”
Max squatted in front of Janie, taking her hand in his. “What’d she say, babe?”
“Something about being cornered by Gage’s mom. About a fiancée and money and not needing any more bullshit. She said she couldn’t deal with more pain right now, that she needs time. Space. But you know Ly. Space to her means running. What should I do? What do we do?” As if she’d run a marathon, Janie’s breath came in short bursts. She needed to help her friend, and she had no idea how the hell to do it.
“Fuck!” Pulling Janie into his arms, Max kissed her head. “We aren’t going to let her run, babe.”
Relief pulsed through her veins. Everything would be okay—somehow. “What are we going to do?”
“You are going over to Lyla’s. She needs you; you need her. I’ve got to talk to Gage.”
“What? No! Have you lost your mind? She may never forgive me for telling you, but if she finds out Gage knows… Max, please.” Shoulders clenched with tension, Janie stared at her husband.
“Jane, if the situation was reversed and I had a crazy whack job of a mother get in your face, especially when you were not in a place to handle it, and Gage knew and didn’t tell me? Saw you drowning and didn’t let me throw you a life jacket? Brother or not, I’d fucking kill him. Do you understand?”
Janie nodded. She did understand, but would Lyla?
Max tilted Janie’s chin back so the two of them were eye to eye. “Gage cares about her. I mean really cares, and he needs to understand where Lyla’s mind was when Carla pushed.”
“Carla?”
“The egg donor who calls herself Mommy. Go to Lyla, babe. Text me when you get there. And Jane, I love you.”
“Love you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
You Did What?
“DELUCCA, WHAT’S UP, man?” Sebastian whispered into the phone as he sat by his grandmother’s bed.
When Wendy called and explained that Florence was having a bad afternoon, he had left work and rushed to her bedside. The nurse was right. His grandmother was pale. Her breathing, even with the oxygen, seemed labored, and her sleep seemed restless, as if she was in pain. The few times she had awoken during his visit, they chatted, but only for a few minutes before sleep claimed her again. Christ, he hated what cancer had done to her.
“Where are you, brother?” Max asked. “Tried to track you down at the garage and the track. We need to talk.”
Sebastian sure as shit didn’t like the sound of that. The business was thriving which meant… “At my Gram’s. Have you spoken to Lyla?” Just saying her name made his heart thump. Two days of radio silence was two days too damn long.
“Yeah… you gonna be at Florence’s a while? I can come there.”
“The fuck, DeLucca? She okay?”
“Gage…”
Max’s hesitation had Sebastian vibrating with frustration. He unfolded himself from the chair and left his grandmother’s room. “Where the fuck are you, Max? I’m in no mood for twenty goddamn questions. Florence isn’t doing well, and your cloak-and-dagger answers are pissing me way the fuck off.”
Max swore before he said, “Brother, no way I’d bother you if I didn’t think you needed to be bothered. I’m heading back to the garage. Can you meet me there, or should I meet you at your place?”
“Be at my place in twenty.” Sebastian disconnected without hearing confirmation. Max was solid. He’d be there. After quietly stepping back into Florence’s bedroom, he leaned down and placed his lips on her cool forehead. “I’m sorry, Gram. I gotta go, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Take care of your girl, honey,” Florence whispered, her eyes partly opened. “And, Bastian, don’t forget, no matter what happens in life, the sun will eventually return; bask in its glow when it’s out; remember its warmth when it’s not.”
“Gram”—having no idea what Max was going to tell him, dread filled his mind while tension pulled on his muscles—“what happens if the sun doesn’t return?”
“It always returns, boy. Always. It’s up to you to decide how long it will take. Now go.”
She drifted back to sleep as he left the bedroom. A world without her in it was really going to suck.
***
EVEN COCOONED IN Egyptian cotton sheets, thick blankets, and a down comforter pulled over her head, Lyla couldn’t get warm. She couldn’t stop trembling. Her father’s voice, his words, wouldn’t leave her head.
Never before had her Fortress of Lylatude let her down. Usually just being wrapped head to toe in her own room made her feel safe. Of course it was juvenile—she knew something as flimsy as blankets would do nothing to shield her from those who meant her harm—but for a few minutes, when she needed it, she got to be a child. She got to believe that if she couldn’t see the world, it couldn’t see her. She got to feel hugged without having to give anything back, without having to hide who she was, and without pretending to be something she wasn’t. Yet as she lay there tucked in a ball, a lifetime of memories banged on the recesses of her mind and loneliness tugged somewhere deep in her chest.
The cell phone on the night table pinged with an incoming text. Lyla reached her arm out of the fort and grabbed the cell.
Janie: I’m here and coming in.
How that girl always knew when she was needed was a mystery. Lyla grinned before tapping out a response.
Lyla: If you’re coming to take away my vodka or my blankets go away
Janie: I come bearing ice cream and My Cousin Vinny
Lyla: You may enter
From her fort, Lyla heard the front door open, then the steady beeps of the alarm being disarmed. She heard the clunking of the door being closed followed by the clanks of the locks and the reengagement of the alarm. If any of her friends thought she was insane about her protection, after the attack in April, they had never questioned it again.
Lyla knew the minute her friend entered the bedroom, even though she had taken her shoes off at the door, as usual, and barely made a sound. Her mere presence was comforting. Something was placed on the floor beside Lyla. Knowing Janie, it was probably one of those freezer bags holding their ice cream.
The bed barely dipped as Janie inched in next to her. The lime scent her friend favored permeated Lyla’s senses almost like another shield against the madness of the world, and Lyla was grateful.
“Thank you, Jane. I’m not sure I say it enough, but I think it all the time. I’d be lost without you.”
The air between them went silent before Janie said, “Oh shit.”
“Umm, okay. Not exactly the response I thought I’d get, but I can’t write your script.” Lyla turned to her friend. Even in the darkness of the blankets, she saw fear etched on Janie’s face. “Jane, what’s wrong?”
“I need to tell you something and it’s gonna piss you off.”
“Stop right there. There is no bad news given in the Fortress of Lylatude.” Lyla pulled the blankets off their heads and sat cross-legged in bed. “In fact, I can’t have any more bad news today. No more, Janie, I can’t handle it.” She didn’t know what her friend could tell her that would make her angry, and she didn’t want to know. God, she wanted back in her fort.
“That’s the thing, honey… you can handle it. You keep proving that you can. After all these years, you continue to amaze me with your strength.” Watching Janie twist the blanket in her hands made Lyla twitchy. “You’re strong, and when you get angry and throw my ass out of here, I’ll have to handle it and be strong too, because I know in my heart you would have done the same thing.”
“Oh my God… what the hell did you do?” Lyla asked, unsure if she should reach for the vodka or the ice cream.
***
THE FACT THAT Max’s Jeep sat in Sebastian’s driveway when he pulled up had Sebastian grinding his teeth. The only way his friend could have beaten him to the house from the garage was by breaking every traffic law. With Max no longer occupying his Jeep, Sebastian pulled in deep breaths through his nose, releasing them slowly through his mouth as he walked through his already unlocked front door.
“DeLucca,” he bellowed as he walked down the hall.
“In the den,” Max replied.
When Sebastian saw Max, his buddy was holding a glass filled with tequila but the bottle was nowhere to be seen. He knew shit was worse than he’d expected if Max was offering a calming shot but no more. Keys clanked as they hit the coffee table, he said, “Talk.”
“Drink first,” Max ordered.
“If you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on, I’m gonna send you home to your wife a whole lot less pretty,” Sebastian snarled.
Max shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time we came to blows, bro. Now trust me, you don’t want to hear this without a buffer. So either drink or I’m gonna have to tie your ass down.” Throwing back the tequila, Max looked at the empty glass but didn’t wait for Sebastian to question him again. “Apparently, Carla introduced herself to Lyla earlier today—”
“Fuck.” Sebastian reached for his keys only to have Max swipe them away first.
“Can’t let you leave, bro. Not like this, not until you know everything I know.”
Fury burned through Sebastian’s body. “Not again, Max!” His voice echoed through the room. “Do you hear me? That bitch doesn’t get to do it again! Fuck. Is Lyla okay? Shit, I need to go to her. Give me my keys, man.” Hands fisted and jaw clenched, Sebastian watched Max slowly sit down on the couch.
“I need you to trust me and sit down for a few minutes. After you’ve heard me out, I’ll give you your keys, but we both know that you going off half-cocked will end up badly, and neither you nor Lyla need that today.”
The way Max’s voice softened as he spoke Lyla’s name grabbed Sebastian’s attention. Something was wrong. What had his fucking mother said to her? After two years, he and Lyla had finally found their way to each other. He couldn’t let anything come between them. Whatever it was he felt for Lyla Dalton was real, and deep in his gut, he knew she felt the same about him. Deep breaths. They would get through whatever damage his mother caused and move on.
“Okay. Tell me what you know.”
For the first time since Sebastian walked through the door, Max smirked. “According to Janie, Carla tried to ambush Lyla in the Wine and Spirits parking lot. Hate to tell you this, but the crazy bitch said something about your fiancée—which Janie said Lyla glossed over.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, wasn’t sure if you had shared that story or not. Anyway, Carla got up in Lyla’s face, trying to talk about how much money you were worth and—this is where it gets good.”
Sebastian couldn’t imagine how any part of this story could be considered good, but he continued to listen.
“Lyla basically told your mom to fuck off. Told her she was a worthless mom. Not sure if Janie got the story straight, but Lyla threatened to run Carla over if she didn’t get her ass away from her car. Man, you obviously painted quite the picture of Mommy Dearest for Lyla to have unleashed like that.”
For the first time in… life, Sebastian’s heart melted. “Dude, I never told her anything about Carla. The only information she had was what she heard from Florence the day Carla showed up and Gram fell. I mean, yeah, she knows I don’t like the woman, but as you always say, Lyla’s bullshit detector is fine-tuned.”
Mind whirling, Sebastian thought about the scene. Lyla had defended him to a woman she didn’t know. She’d blindly stood up for him. Being that he wasn’t flashy and that she had never been to his house, she didn’t know about his money and he’d never thought to ask about hers. They had been two people dancing in the same circle, buying time until the music slowed. Once he finally got her in his arms, the rest of the world disappeared. Never once did he suspect she was using him. Now he knew for damn certain she wasn’t.
“I’ve gotta go to her, Max. There are things that need to be said.”
Max put his arm out before Sebastian could move to stand. Exhaling, Max re
ached for the beer Sebastian hadn’t noticed sitting on the table. After taking a long pull, Max said, “There’s more, and believe me, this shit is ugly.”
***
“YOU DID WHAT?” Lyla shrilled. “I must have misheard you because there is no way that you, my best friend, my fucking sister, just admitted that you shared my secrets with Max. Tell me I misheard. Tell me!” Body trembling, she grabbed the pillows and twisted. Lord knew her vision was wavy at best and it had nothing to do with the vodka.
“You have every right to be upset—”
“You’re goddamn right I do! What would possess you? What would give you the first fucking inkling that telling Max would be okay with me? Seriously, I want to know.” Her hands shook as she stared at her friend. The thought of Max’s pity made her want to vomit. They didn’t even know the whole story—the bad parts—and she wanted the room to swallow her up.
“You want to know why I told him?” Janie asked, her voice filled with confidence as she sat up straight and faced Lyla.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to hear why the one person in the world I opened up to would take my trust and throw it out the window. Let’s have it.”
Fire blazed from turquoise eyes that had always been serene. “I told him because you, my sister, came home from visiting the prison where your monster of a father has resided for the past sixteen years, and you, who claim tears are for pussies, were hysterically crying to the point of incomprehension, and the bastard who caused that damage may not be behind bars for much longer. I told Max because what’s going on in your life is real and scary and too big for you to handle on your own, dammit. It’s too big for both of us. But most of all, I told him because whether or not you care to admit it right now, if the situation was reversed, you would have done the same fucking thing.”
As Janie’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, Lyla noticed that her friend’s eyes were dry and filled with conviction. Janie was probably correct on all accounts, but the betrayal felt too deep. Slipping out of her bed, Lyla kept her eyes on the carpet. “I need you to leave.”