“She was raped and murdered.” More filthy words out of my mouth.
“You’ve been dreaming about her, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Bad dreams?” Her voice was soft, coaxing.
“Yes.”
“Oh, baby,” she murmured as her arms came around me, and pulled me to her.
I let her hold me, but my arms stayed by my side. I was unable to hold Layla while talking about Ashley.
Fuck.
She let me go and said, “Tell me about her.”
I stared at her.
I can’t do this.
I rubbed my hand over my face. “I’ve gotta get to work,” I muttered, trying desperately to fight through the haze.
“Don’t do this, please, “ she begged on a whisper.
“I can’t . . . ” My voice was a strangled mess as I fought the emotions pressing against me.
Fuck.
I finished dressing and sat on the bed to put my boots on.
I didn’t look at her.
I couldn’t.
I stood, and walked to the door. Pausing, I said, “I’ll call you.”
And then I left without waiting for her response and without a backwards glance.
***
“Onyx took care of Phil,” Merrick advised me an hour later.
I sat in my office chair, staring out the window at the river, a million thoughts racing through my mind. Turning to him, I said, “Good.”
“Said he would have preferred for it to be more than just a chat.”
I nodded. “Yeah, there’s no love lost between those two, but we need Phil alive so he can sort this shit out for us.”
“I’m sure we could have come up with an alternative plan.”
I threw my pen down on the desk. “Fuck, Merrick, when does the fucking blood end?”
He stared at me in shock. “What?”
“Do you ever get sick of the shit we do? Of the bloody battlefield it feels like some days?”
“You know I do, Blade, but you also know as well as I do that we can’t walk away from that fucking battlefield. We made the decision years ago to help those girls, and we’ve worked fucking hard to keep that good in the world. There’s no turning back now, unless you’re willing to throw them to the wolves again.”
“Fuck!” I roared, and shoved my chair back.
“What the hell has gotten into you, Blade?” Merrick stood as well, his forehead creased with worry.
“Every-fucking-thing. I’m fucking stuck, and I don’t know how to escape it.”
He watched me silently. “Shit.”
I clenched my fists at my side. “Yeah. Shit.”
“She’s gotten to you, hasn’t she?” he asked, quietly.
All the thoughts racing in my mind came to a halt. “Yes.”
“But you’re holding back from her, aren’t you?”
“Fuck, Merrick, how the hell do you read my fucking mind like that?”
“Blade, we’ve known each other since we were fucking kids. Twenty years of friendship will do that shit to you. You’re an unpredictable bastard to most people, but, to me, you’re like the back of my fucking hand.”
I glared at him. “So tell me, how the fuck do I get my shit back under control?”
He smiled. “You let it all go.”
“What?”
“Go to her, and let yourself go. Give yourself to her. If she’s half the woman I suspect she is, she’ll take that shit and put you back together.”
The chaos of my mind eased as I considered what he’d said.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe the way forward was to revisit the past and deal with that shit once and for all.
***
I didn’t go to Layla.
I drove around for hours before finally going home.
And I slept.
For hours.
I woke to my phone ringing in the darkness.
Two am.
Layla.
I answered it but struggled to form words so remained silent.
“Donovan?” Her voice was soft, hesitant. I hated that I’d caused that.
Asshole.
“I’m here, baby.”
“I’m at your front door. Can you let me in?”
Shit.
My thoughts shifted to how she knew my address, but I knew without even thinking about it that Merrick was involved in this somehow. I headed to the front door, and pulled it open to find her waiting patiently for me.
“Why are you on my doorstep at this time of the morning?” I asked as I let her in.
“Your friend rang me.”
“Merrick?”
“Yes.” She grasped my face with both hands. “He’s concerned about you. Told me you need me and gave me your address.”
“Fuck.”
She squeezed my face. “He told me you had stuff to tell me, and that I wasn’t to leave until you’d told me everything.”
“Jesus,” I muttered.
“He told me I had to make you tell me about Leroy, Ashley and the women.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper as she mentioned the women. She thought it was something it wasn’t.
Shit.
That motherfucker.
I pulled away from her hold, and stalked down my hallway, into the kitchen. I pulled the bottle of scotch from the cupboard and two glasses. Filling them, I slid one across the counter to her. Lifting my glass to my lips, I said, “Drink up, baby. None of this shit is pretty. You’re gonna need that.”