by Lisa N. Paul
His own lips twisted—the one facial expression they shared—before his voice got menacingly low. “That’s where you’re wrong. I may not own this town, but I’ve lived in it, supported it, and loved it my whole life. I’ve got friends all over this place, high and low. While you’ve spent your time stealing and manipulating from every job you’ve had, I’ve built relationships. Over the years, I’ve repaid your debts, apologized for your sins, helped businesses in need, and have eyes in places that would blow your mind. So you have a choice. Use the money in this envelope to start over somewhere far away, or stick around and know that there will be no job big or small for you. Not one. You won’t be hired to hand out flyers on the side of the road on rainy days once I get done with you.”
Fear finally registered on her face as the truth settled in. She took the envelope, looked in it, and her eyes bugged at the small amount printed on the check—enough for a move and first and last month’s rent if she was careful. “You, Sebby, are a horrible person and an even worse son. Your father would be disappointed in the man you’ve become.”
Her words had no effect on him though. “I’d say you could discuss it with him one day, but from what I’ve heard about my father, he doesn’t reside in hell. That envelope has the name and number of a moving company. They’re waiting for your call. You’ve got twenty-four hours to contact them or the deal expires and the money is gone.” Sebastian didn’t spare her another look as he turned on his heel toward the door. “Take care of yourself. I know you’re good at that.”
“I never wanted you,” she spat.
“The feeling’s always been mutual.” He left the dilapidated bar feeling lighter than he ever had.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Broken. Ruined.
SEBASTIAN’S BODY WAS sprawled under her sleek, sexy body as his hands focused on ways to make her purr. Yep, the 1965 Mustang was a beauty, but according to her owner, his friend Joe, the girl had been sputtering more than sighing and it was Sebastian’s vow to figure out why. Since Joe owned Choppers, this Mustang was a priority, which was perfect since Sebastian needed something to keep his attention off the fact that Lyla hadn’t returned any of his calls or texts over the past three days.
He’d given her time and space, but according to Max and Janie, Lyla had isolated herself completely. It was unacceptable. In the time they had spent together, he’d seen the longing in her eyes. She wanted closeness but refused herself that luxury. Tonight he was going after his woman even if he had to bulldoze through the walls she’d erected.
“Dude, what kind of pussy music are you listening to?”
Max’s voice startled Sebastian, making him slam his head on the undercarriage of the Mustang before sliding partially out from under the car. Air Supply’s “Making Love Out of Nothing at All” had been blaring from the speakers, and frankly, Sebastian loved it. Yeah, maybe it was pussy music. But the lyrics and the heavy beat in the middle of the song resonated with his feelings down to the fucking note and he didn’t owe anyone an explanation.
“Fuck you, DeLucca. It’s Sunday. What do you care if I’m listening to the goddamn Chipmunks?” he said, rubbing his head.
“According to your playlist, you’re listening to Heavy Metal ballads of the Eighties. What the fuck?” Max turned off the music. “And now that you pointed it out, why the hell are you working on Sunday?”
“Ironic coming from you, being that you’re standing here asking that question on a Sunday.”
Max handed Sebastian a rag and motioned to his face. No one said working in a garage was clean work.
“Get out from under that car before you drop the whole thing on your head and cause even more brain damage.” Max snickered before walking over to the small refrigerator, grabbing a couple bottles of water, and handing one to Sebastian. “You okay?”
Taking long pulls of his water, Sebastian emptied the bottle as he pondered his response. “You haven’t been married that long. You tell me, were you okay being on the receiving end of the silent treatment when Janie was dishing it out?”
Max huffed. “You know damn well I wasn’t.”
“Exactly. I’m done waiting, man. I know everyone said to give her time, but fuck time. She needs someone to drag her out of her corner. She needs me. Regardless if she shows up for dinner tonight, her time alone is finished.”
Max nodded. “And your mother, what happened with her?”
Sebastian smiled when thinking about the events of the day before. “Friday, she refused to leave. Then she got fired. Spent yesterday morning searching for jobs not only in Charistown but in the neighboring towns. Guess what Mommy Dearest learned? Her son is better at keeping his word than she ever was. According to my guys, she had her shit packed and was ready to move before the clock ran out. She’s somewhere in New Jersey.”
“Good riddance,” Max cheered with his nearly empty bottle.
“Yeah. Now I can focus on what’s important: getting my girl, taking care of Gram, and if you’d get your ass out of here, finishing this car.”
Max chuckled. “You got it. I only came in because I left my reading glasses on my desk.”
“Reading glasses?” Sebastian threw his head back, a hearty laugh boomed from his chest. “I haven’t seen you wearing glasses. You’re old as fuck, brother.”
“Gee, why do you think I haven’t worn them in front of you, asshole? Just in case you forgot, we’re the same age, Gage.”
“Whatever, go get your spectacles, Grandpa.” Sebastian chuckled as he walked back to the Mustang.
“Will do,” Max said, “but first, let me just turn on your pussy music. Maybe you can cry while you’re playing with your dipstick.”
Both men laughed as Max left the garage and “Sweet Child of Mine” blared from the speakers. Sebastian slid back under the car, reveling in the greatest anthem of his younger days.
***
Thursday Night
Sebastian: Talk to me
Friday
Sebastian: Lyla…don’t shut me out
Janie: Haven’t heard from you.
Saturday
Ashley: Hey girl, missed you at coffee this morning. Wtf? Those meets are mandatory. Didn’t read your obit in the paper which means you aren’t dead. Be at dinner tomorrow night or I’ll kick ur ass.
Sebastian: Ly…
Cate: Ly, hope you’re feeling better. Missed you this morning. Don’t forget, dinner is at our place tomorrow.
Elliott: Lyla, heard you weren’t at coffee this morning. Me neither and yes, I got shit for it as well. Here’s the thing…I saw you, Ly…and you were cold…shaking but not alone. You were NOT alone, my friend. Your company brought you peace. I guess I’m telling you this so you know…one day, you will find peace. Xo –
Sunday
Kyle: What da fuck? Again with not returning my calls? You don’t get your ass to my house for dinner tonight and I will come over there with my old school boom box and blast Baby Got Back on your front yard ‘til you open your door. Don’t test me. You know I’ll do it.
Kyle: I miss you
Danny: Lyla girl—we need to talk. See you tonight.
As she scrolled through her texts, she saw more of the same loving and adorably threatening messages from each person in the family. Yet instead of comforting her, they confused her. In the past, if she went AWOL for a few days, aside from Janie and maybe Kyle, they let her have her space. They waited patiently for her to resurface then treaded lightly, making sure not to overstep. Now, it felt as if they were circling like vultures over a carcass. Waiting to dig into her past now that they knew her secrets.
Damn you, Janie! Why couldn’t you have kept your mouth shut?
NEARLY FOUR DAYS Lyla had kept herself isolated in her house, yet not once had her mind been at rest. At first, she’d poured her emotions onto paper, writing a story to extract herself from her life, only to have her darkness and fears hijack the characters and shift the romance into Stephen King territory. Not only would h
er fans not appreciate the subject matter, but anxiety began to eat away at her concentration.
Movies couldn’t hold her attention, and if she ate any more ice cream, she wouldn’t be able to fit in her jeans, which would cause a whole different set of problems.
At one point she found herself back in the basement, staring at the boxes, willing herself to open the lids and free the ghosts inside. Instead, like a child, she ascended the stairs and locked the door behind her, as if a simple doorknob would keep her memories at bay.
Ignoring her phone, both calls and texts, had become somewhat of a sport, yet she refused to turn off the cell. Her old therapist would have said it was because part of her liked knowing people cared about her even if she didn’t want to admit it. She would have been right. Their love meant something—it meant everything—yet she still refused to return the messages. Not to punish her friends. No, it wasn’t about them at all.
It was to punish herself. She didn’t deserve them. They were good, honest, kind people and she was… damaged. Broken. Ruined. Life had made sure of that. Her father had reminded her of it. He was a real threat, one who planned to bring her down. In turn, she would bring them harm and pain, and because of who they were, they would stand by her side out of obligation.
She should leave town. If she was being honest, she should have run the minute Janie left for her honeymoon, but selfishly, she didn’t. She adored the group that had become her family. In some ways, she felt connected, rooted… home.
Janie’s words had replayed in her head since Thursday—how they were family, how they loved one another and supported each other. Her friend had been right. Never had they cast judgment upon each other, never had one of them been left to suffer when the others were able to help. That was what Lyla cherished about the people she called family.
And they were family. Janie was scared for Lyla, and she was right to have gone to Max.
“Damn,” Lyla sighed as she finally conceded that she would have absolutely done the same thing. After all, you always protect the ones you love. She owed Janie an apology.
With the entire group knowing her story, she needed to go into Sunday dinner with her shield up and her answers ready. Judging by Danny’s message, there was no way to avoid the questions.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I Didn’t Know!
THE HOURS LEADING up to Sunday dinner both raced and inched by as Lyla’s thoughts ravaged her mind and churned in her belly. Could she stay in town and still protect her family with her father’s freedom imminent? Would she be able to avoid their pitying stares without falling to pieces? How long would they continue to stand by her side if she kept shutting them out? Now that they knew some of her past, could she find the courage to finally let them in the rest of the way?
With Kyle and Cate’s door in front of her, she sucked in as much air as her lungs would allow and walked into their home.
“I’m here!” she announced to the group with false bravado and a wide smile, grabbing the attention of everyone at once. Her nails pressed into her palm as nerves whipped through her body.
“It’s about damn time,” Ryan called. “What can I get you to drink?”
Lyla stared, words stuck in her throat. This is how they’re gonna play it? Pretend like nothing’s changed? No, I can’t. Lyla trudged closer to the group. “Look, let’s just talk about the elephant in the room right now, okay?”
“But Gage isn’t even here yet.” Kyle chuckled.
“I’m here now, and you keep calling me an elephant, you may just find a trunk full of peanuts shoved up your ass.”
His sexy voice came from behind her, making goose flesh coat her arms and her emotions collide with what felt like chaos until her head spun. “Stop!” Lyla shouted. “I just wanted you all to know that I’m giving up my shares of the bar. Someone can buy me out, or fuck, I’ll just hand them over and you can split them amongst yourselves. Whatever. Just take my name off all of the paperwork for Danny’s on Main. I’m out, okay?”
The room echoed with “What the fuck?” but it was Danny’s, “The hell you are,” that left the house silent.
“What is going on? You need to start explaining yourself, Lyla, and I mean now,” Danny growled in a tone she had never heard him use, one that made her feel like a child. But it was the look of disappointment in his eyes that made words flow from her mouth.
“Look, I’ve given it a lot of thought.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Removing myself from the bar is the only way I can protect all of you and still stay here in Charistown.”
At the sound of gasps and groans, she lifted her gaze, and the first person her eyes met was Kyle. His cloudy green eyes stared at her, narrowing as if he was trying to make sense of her words. As if he didn’t already know her story. Such bullshit.
“Protect us from what exactly?” Kyle said through clenched teeth.
Lyla rolled her eyes. They wanted to make her spell it out? Fine. “From my father! He knows my pen name, and that is a guarded secret. My publishing house signed an NDA to keep it that way. But he found out and he knows where I live. He told me that once he got out of prison, he would stop at nothing to get back at me for putting him behind bars. My name is associated with the bar, and I’ll be damned if anything ever happens to that place because of me.” Tears stung her eyes. “I-I won’t allow it.”
“I’ll ask again,” Danny said slowly, enunciating each of his words. “What. Is. Going. On?”
For the first time since entering the house, Lyla’s gaze fell on a wide-eyed, pale-faced Janie.
“Honey, that was your secret,” Janie croaked. “We didn’t share it.”
“Oh, now it’s my secret? Are you kidding?” Lyla hollered.
Heart thumping against her ribs, breathing felt next to impossible. A strong hand touched her shoulder. It was Sebastian—her body confirmed it without needing to turn around—but she shook him off and put distance between herself and the others in the room. Distance she needed to pull herself together before she shattered.
Part of her was grateful that Janie, Max, and Sebastian had kept the information between the three of them, but the other part was pissed off that now she had to let everyone in on the ugly that was her life. You’re a storyteller. Remove your feelings and tell the story.
Ten pair of eyes bore into her as she paced, tension and sixteen years of pain heavy on her shoulders. Shame and vulnerability twisted and mutated inside her, leaving a shield of sarcasm behind.
“You’re always asking about me,” she said, staring at the group without making eye contact with anyone in particular. “‘What’s wrong with Lyla? What’s Lyla hiding? Why’s she always running? Why doesn’t she trust us?’ You want to know why? Do you? Everyone I loved was dead by the time I was twelve, and I was jealous of their fate by the time I was fourteen. Jealous! Because they got to go to heaven while I was stuck here burning in hell. Broken beyond repair.”
“Ly…” Janie tried to approach her, but Max wrapped his arms around his wife, keeping her in place.
A part of Lyla was grateful. The dam had been breached and she couldn’t stop the flow. “I spent a year and a half with a father I didn’t know existed until I went to live with him. A man who saw me as property and treated me as such.” Memories she had buried deep crashed into her, including some that hadn’t seen conscious thought in over a decade.
“He hurt you,” Danny confirmed, his sad eyes focused on Lyla.
“Yes.”
Kyle ran his hand through his hair, frustration seeping from his skin. “Fuck, Ly, goddammit, why didn’t you tell me? After everything I went through… I… we could have worked through our shit together. You know my father beat the crap out of me. You know how fucked up it was, how it ruined me. I could have helped you… we—”
“Did he invite his friends to help with the beatings? Did he sit back as his buddies held you down and took the one thing that wasn’t theirs to take?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “I was ripped a
part from the inside out. So there you go, the Lyla puzzle complete. Trusting tends to be an issue for me. Sorry if that’s an inconvenience for you all.”
“Ly, honey…” Breaking away from Danny’s hold, Julie walked toward Lyla. “You are loved. Do you know that?”
Thoughts bouncing like rubber balls in her head, she stared Julie in the tear-filled eyes. “Yeah, I actually think I do. That’s why I’m being selfish and not leaving town. Please convince them to take my name off the bar, Juls. Let me do this for you guys, please.”
Before the first platitude could be offered, the first hug given, Lyla turned on her heel and ran out the front door. If anyone called her name or tried to stop her, she didn’t hear them, because her mind was already back in the past.
***
“I WILL KILL that motherfucker,” Kyle exploded as he threw his beer bottle against the wall.
The glass shattered, pulling Sebastian from the state of numbness he’d slipped into the moment Lyla bared her soul. Learning she was not only the victim of child abuse but sexual molestation… had he not forced himself to go numb, he would have done more damage than break a bottle and raise his voice.
“Not. Kidding.” Kyle huffed. “I’ll call Nixon right now. He’s got to know people at the state prison.”
“Your brother is a good cop, Ky. You aren’t going to get him involved in this,” Cate calmly stated.
“Not to mention you aren’t the only one who wants to kill that bastard,” Danny said. “Nor are you the only one with connections. Gonna haveta get in line.”
Loud sobs, agonizing cries filled with raw pain, came from Janie’s corner of the room. “I didn’t know! She’s my sister, and I had no idea. I didn’t want to dig because I was scared to know. What kind of person does that make me, what kind of friend? She’s suffered alone because of me.”
“No, babe, she suffered because of her father. She suffered because of her past. You kept her going. There’s a reason she never told you. It’s the same reason why you’ve never left her side—you love each other.” Max wrapped his arms around his wife and held tight.