She was lying on the bath mat, curled into a ball, sound asleep. Her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks did not go unnoticed. I crouched beside her and placed my palm on her cheek, “Kayla, sweetheart, wake up.” When she didn’t budge, I gently shook her shoulder and said her name a little louder.
Her eyes flew open, and she looked confused for a brief moment before a scowl took over her pretty face. She pushed back from me and sat up. “What are you doing in here?”
“I knocked, and you didn’t answer. I was worried something was wrong,” I explained.
“Oh, okay. This morning you treat me like a damn leper, and now you’re suddenly concerned. Completely rational behavior,” she spat.
“I don’t have the time or patience to argue with you. I need you to get up and come downstairs with me.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“Because I asked you to, okay?”
“Fine,” she huffed. She got to her feet, and just like the brat she could be, she stomped down the stairs with her arms crossed and her lips pursed. And then she froze when she reached the bottom. She took one look at Luke and tried to run back up the stairs.
I caught her by her upper arms and held her in place. “Hey, calm down. Do you know who he is?”
She frantically shook her head. “No, but he looks like a cop, or a fed. Let me go, Copper. Now.”
“No can do, Locks. He’s a friend of mine. You’re not in any trouble, and no one is going to hurt you. He just wants to ask you some questions,” I explained, making an extra effort to keep my voice soft.
She didn’t agree, but she didn’t fight me as I carefully guided her down the stairs and to the living room. Once seated, she stared at Luke with wide eyes full of trepidation.
“Hi, I’m Agent Luke Johnson with the FBI. Like Copper said, you’re not in any trouble. I’m working on a case, and we have reason to believe you were one of the victims. I’m only here to ask you a few questions in hopes you can help tie up a few loose ends in the investigation. Are you comfortable with Copper staying while we talk or would you prefer to speak privately?”
“You might as well go ahead with him here. If I’ve learned anything in the last week, it’s that he has no respect for boundaries and would likely be listening at the door,” she snarked.
“Okay then, let’s get started. Is your full name Layla Jade East?”
She sucked in a breath and stiffened. I whispered, “I already know.” She jerked her head toward me and met my eyes for a brief moment before answering him. “Yes, that’s me.”
Luke continued, “Do you know Lawrence Hastings or Harold Hensley?”
I felt every muscle in her body tense. When I glanced down, she was white as a ghost, and I wasn’t sure she was breathing. “Layla?” I asked.
She blinked at her name, but showed no signs of moving or answering or breathing. I gently shook her shoulder, “Layla, are you okay?”
She whispered, “Define know.”
Luke cleared his throat and softened his voice, “Were Hastings and Hensley planning on selling you?”
I was off the couch and on my feet in a flash. “Are you shitting me?!” I roared.
Luke remained seated and kept his voice level, “Calm down and let her answer the question.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“And you managed to escape? Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“How did you get away?” he asked, and by his tone, he seemed to be genuinely curious.
She shrugged, “I used one of the bedsheets to hold some hay above the door. When the guard or whatever came in to deliver my dinner tray, the hay fell on his head. While he was distracted, I slipped out the door and ran.”
“Simple, yet effective. Well done,” Luke complimented while nodding his head in approval.
“What happened to you while you were there?”
“Nothing, really. I was locked in a stall for horses with a crappy bed. They fed me, occasionally yelled at me, and sprayed me down with a water hose every other day,” she said flatly.
“How did you come to be in their possession?”
The small amount she had managed to relax vanished with that question. “Pass,” she uttered.
“What?” Luke asked.
“Pass. I don’t want to answer that one. Pass,” she explained.
“Layla, I’m trying to make sure everyone associated with Hastings and Hensley have been apprehended. Did they take you themselves or were you sold to them?”
She exhaled tiredly, “I was sold to them.” She held up her hand to stop his next question. “Let me save you the trouble. My mother passed away a few months ago. My father, who was never a part of our lives because my mother claimed he was a bad man, showed up at the funeral. He shoved me into a van, restrained me, and took me to some shithole where I was locked in a room for a few days. One day, he came to get me, threw me in a trunk, and sold me to the two pricks at the horse farm.”
Luke nodded, leaning forward with rapt attention. “What’s your father’s name?”
Layla made a disgusted face and spat three words that rocked my world, “Jimmy ‘Gnaw’ Burnett.”
Chapter Twelve
Layla
The moment I uttered my father’s name, the air in the room shifted. And neither man said a word. I looked between their shocked faces and finally demanded, “What?”
Luke came out of his stupor first. “What do you know about your father?”
“Not much, and what I do know my mother told me on her death bed. She said he was part of a gang and a bad man. When she found out she was pregnant with me, she left him and worked her tail off to make a life for us. The first time I met him was when he kidnapped me after the funeral. I’m not sure how he even knew about me. She said she never told him she was pregnant, and he isn’t listed on my birth certificate,” I explained.
Luke blew out a breath. “Your father is dead,” he blurted.
“Good. How did he die?”
“He was shot in a warehouse that blew up. It couldn’t be determined if the bullet or the fire killed him first.”
“What happened to the person who shot him?” I asked.
“We don’t know who shot him. Why?” Luke asked with a furrowed brow.
“I wanted to know who to thank,” I said, meaning every word. “So, do you have any other good news for me?”
Luke grinned, “Hastings and Hensley have been arrested and are currently in custody awaiting trial. We’d been investigating them for a while. Actually, I was posing as a buyer and set to purchase you, but you managed to get away, which threw a wrench into our plans. In the end, it all worked out, and we got both of them.”
“I’ll fill her in on the other details,” Copper said cryptically.
Luke nodded, “Of course. Only a few more things to clear up, and I’ll get out of your hair. Where have you been since you got away from Hastings? We haven’t been able to find a trace of you since you got away from the stables.”
I tensed. I didn’t want to tell him where I’d been before I found the bunker. Thankfully, I didn’t have to because Copper took care of it for me. “Believe it or not, she stumbled across Badger’s bunker and has been holed up there until I found her last week.”
“How the hell did you get into that thing?” Luke asked.
I shrugged, “It was unlocked.”
His brows rose, and his eyes shot to Copper. “When Ember was at the cabin with Dash, we apparently forgot to lock the bunker when all was said and done. Afterward, no one thought to check it.”
Luke shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, I think I have what I need. What’s the best way to get in touch with you? I may have more questions, but we’ll definitely need you to testify at the trial.”
“You can call me until I can get her a phone,” Copper answered.
We shook hands and said our goodbyes. Once Luke was gone, I faced Copper. “What are the other details?”
“Let’s go upstairs, a
nd I’ll tell you.”
The last thing I wanted to do was go upstairs with him after his behavior that morning, but I desperately wanted to know whatever details he had to share.
He closed the door and took a seat beside me on the bed. “First, I have a question or two for you. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier, but with the way we met…Anyway, how did you get from the Senator’s place in Kentucky to Meadow Ridge? And don’t bullshit me. I know you didn’t walk.”
I swallowed thickly. “You’re right. I didn’t walk, but I don’t feel comfortable telling you that story,” I confessed.
His forehead scrunched while he stared at me for a few seconds before his eyes widened as something occurred to him. “You said you were running from something that was chasing you, but it wasn’t something, was it? It was someone.”
***
I didn’t know what to do, and I couldn’t stop crying. I had no idea where I was, and it was starting to get dark. My feet were killing me, I was exhausted, and I could hardly swallow because my mouth was so dry, but I couldn’t stop moving.
When I heard a car approaching, I darted off into the trees to hide until it passed. But it didn’t pass. Instead, the car came to a stop, and someone got out. My heart pounded in my chest as I heard footsteps getting closer to the tree I was tucked behind.
“Hello?” an elderly female voice called. “You looked like you could use some help, sweetheart. You still there?”
I fought to silence my breathing while my heart worked overtime in my chest.
“Can I give you a ride somewhere? It’s not safe to be walking out here at night, honey. We’ve got a lot of wild animals around here that like to come out after dark, and I can’t in good conscience leave you here,” she continued. “I’m a God-fearing Christian woman, but I don’t pass judgment. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, no questions asked.”
What was I supposed to do? She was right about the animals. I had already heard several coyotes howling in the distance. But what if it was a trap? What if she was sent to find me and bring me back?
“Name’s Evelyn Carmichael. I’m a seventy-two-year-old widow. I live about an hour from here. Just passing through on my way home from my sister’s funeral. It’d sure brighten my day if you’d let me help you.”
Taking a deep breath, I prayed she was being honest and stepped out from behind the tree.
She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, honey, I don’t know what happened, and you don’t have to tell me, but please let me help you.”
I swallowed with what little saliva I had and managed to say, “I could use a ride.”
“Of course, sweetheart. Hop in the truck.”
True to her word, she didn’t ask about how I came to be in my current situation. She gave me a few minutes to myself before asking, “Where would you like to go?”
If that wasn’t the million-dollar question, then I didn’t know what was. I couldn’t go home, and the one person I could always count on was gone. “Um, is there a women’s shelter nearby? Or something like that?”
She made a sound of discontent with her teeth. “I don’t rightly know. I live in Meadow Ridge, about half-way up the mountain, and I know we don’t have one in our little town. I suppose there might be something like that in one of the bigger cities, but I’m afraid we won’t get you there before they close their doors tonight.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” I blurted, trying not to panic and epically failing.
“Of course, you do, sweetheart. You can spend the night at my place. I have a guest bedroom, and you’d be doing me a favor by keeping me company. I used to spend my evenings talking to my sister on the telephone, right up until the night before she passed. I’ve been up at her place ever since, so this’ll be my first night back in my own house. I was wondering what I was going to do with myself when I spotted you jumping into the trees. It was like the good Lord heard me and answered my prayers right then and there.”
“I, I don’t—” I started, but she knew what I was going to say.
“Just say, ‘Okay,’ sweetie,” she prompted.
“Okay, Mrs. Carmichael. Thank you.”
“Psshaw, you can call me Evelyn. Mrs. Carmichael makes me sound old.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
After a few minutes of silence, she finally asked, “What should I call you?”
“Kayla. Kayla West,” I lied. It wasn’t in my nature to outright lie to people, but I couldn’t risk being found.
Evelyn turned out to be my saving grace. After making something for us to eat, she showed me to her guest room, which had an attached bathroom. She went to bed right after dinner, and I took the opportunity to wash off and soak my sore feet in the tub.
The next morning, the unmistakable smell of a home-cooked breakfast and fresh coffee woke me. My feet were killing me, but I managed to wobble out to the kitchen to find Evelyn piling food onto a plate. “You’re just in time. Have a seat,” she said and nodded to the table which already had a plate of food and two mugs of coffee on it.
“How are you feeling this morning? And don’t say fine. There’s no way you’re fine, so go ahead and be honest,” she said before tentatively taking a sip of her coffee.
“My feet hurt, and my legs are a bit sore, but I think I’m okay otherwise.”
She huffed and got up from the table. “I don’t know where my brain is most of the time. Ah, here we go. Take a couple of these and help yourself if you need more later,” she said and placed a bottle of ibuprofen in front of me.
“Thank you,” I replied quietly and swallowed two tablets.
“So, I spent a little time last night thinking and praying about you, and here’s what me and the Lord came up with. I think you ought to stay with me for a spell. I’m old, and my health ain’t all that great. I sure could use some help around this place. I want to get it cleaned out and fixed up so I can sell it and move to a retirement community like all the other old folks are doing. Might even get me a new hairdo and see if I can snag me a fella, maybe even two,” she said with a mischievous grin.
After a little more convincing, I finally agreed to stay with Evelyn and help her get her house ready to sell. She even insisted on paying me for the work I did. I didn’t want to take her money and tried to refuse, but she told me she was planning on hiring a company to do it, so if I didn’t take her money, someone else would.
We spent the next eight weeks diligently working on her house. The woman had an unbelievable amount of stuff. I honestly wasn’t sure we would ever get it cleaned out, but we kept at it and made progress little by little.
Each week, Evelyn made two trips into town; one was to take a load of items to be donated, and the other was to take a load of items to the dump. I was scared to go into town, but I knew she couldn’t unload the truck by herself, so I offered to go with her. She knew I was scared and hiding from something, but, true to her word, she never tried to pry.
“There’s no need for you to tag along. There’s plenty of young men around who won’t let me lift a finger,” she assured me.
It usually took her a little over three hours round trip, but sometimes longer if she needed to stop by the grocery store or the pharmacy. So, when I heard her pull up to the house less than an hour after she left, I automatically thought something was wrong. And I was right.
It wasn’t Evelyn and her truck in the driveway. It was a man I’d never seen before, and he did not look the least bit friendly. He knocked on the front door and immediately tried turning the knob. Without giving it any thought, I moved as fast as I could to the guest bedroom and threw myself into the closet. It wasn’t big by any means, but I managed to wedge myself behind some of the hanging clothes.
I heard a door crash open followed by clomping footsteps. “Ma, you home?” he called out, and I knew who was inside the house, Evelyn’s son, Travis. She told me all about him within the first few days I was with her.
“He�
�s my son, and for that, I will always love him, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind to what he’s become. To put it bluntly, he’s a drug addict who has no desire to change his ways. He’s been to jail so many times I’ve lost count, but he goes right back to his old habits as soon as he gets out. Last I heard, he was supposed to be locked up for three years in the state prison, but half the time they get out of it by telling on somebody else. Honestly, my husband and I washed our hands of him years ago, and I don’t bother trying to keep up with him anymore.”
He continued moving through the house. I could hear drawers being opened and closed, things being rummaged through and dumped onto the floor. Hopefully, he would find whatever he was looking for and leave before Evelyn got back. She didn’t say as much, but I was afraid he would hurt her.
What I didn’t expect was him to fling open the closet door and immediately spot me. “Well, what do we have here?” he said as he wrapped his clammy hand around my arm and pulled me from my hiding place.
“I-I’m your mother’s friend. P-please don’t hurt me,” I blabbered.
“Mom’s been talking about me, huh? The old bitch never could keep her fat mouth shut,” he grumbled and slapped me across the face.
I stumbled back, cupping my stinging cheek. “N-no, she didn’t say anything about you. I heard you call her ‘Ma’ when you came in.”
“Shut up, bitch,” he ordered and started advancing on me, staring at me with cold, beady eyes.
I didn’t have anywhere to go. He was blocking the only exit, and I didn’t think I could get around him. I went for the bathroom, hoping I could close the door and lock it to keep him out, but I wasn’t fast enough.
Copper (Blackwings MC - Devils Springs Book 1) Page 7