Layla drank it silently and waited for me to continue.
After I drank mine, I said, “Ashley helped me become a better man. She helped us push all those changes through and she helped the women change their lives. We moved in together and were planning our wedding when she was murdered.” The pain sliced through my heart, but I pushed on. “She was out with friends one night and her drink was spiked, and . . . they took her. Fucking gang raped her and slit her throat.”
I fought to catch my breath again and forced the rising bile back down. Layla kept massaging my back, soothing me with her touch, but this pain couldn’t be soothed away completely. Not when it was my fault.
I stared at her, preparing to tell her the worst part.
“What else?” she whispered, knowing there was more.
“She tried to call me that night. Her message said she needed a lift home. I didn’t take her call, though, because I was angry at her. We’d been fighting on and off all week and had a huge argument before she went out. It was over fucking trivial shit, but I was a stubborn bastard and didn’t want to talk to her when she rang. She was supposed to be staying at a friend’s house after they finished at the club. I didn’t know she wanted me to come and get her . . . didn’t know she’d walk the streets trying to find a fucking taxi . . . ”
“Oh god,” she said, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry, baby, no wonder you were upset last night.”
I rested my hands on the edge of the kitchen counter, curled my fingers under the edge of it and squeezed hard. I tried to squeeze the agony out of me. It was fucking torture, and after living with it for years, I just wanted it gone. I craved silence in my mind.
I pushed off from the counter. “Fuck!” I yelled into the silence of the night. My body screamed at me, and the anger coursing through me took over. I turned and punched the wall behind me. And then I doubled over, my arms going around my body. I clawed at myself as the emotions tangled together in one big mess.
I can’t do this any longer.
I’m going insane.
And then Layla turned me back around to face her, and wrapped me in her arms. She held tight and didn’t let me go. My arms went around her, and I clung to her.
“Shhh, it’s okay to let it out. Don’t fight it anymore. Holding onto it is hurting you more.”
I took her words in and tried to process them, but after years of fighting this, I knew no other way.
“It’s not your fault, Donovan,” she whispered in my ear.
I stilled and tightened my hold on her, but remained silent.
“We all say and do shit in life we wish we could take back. But what people choose to do with that stuff is up to them. We can’t control their actions, and we sure as shit can’t foresee the future. We also can’t control what other people are going to do to the people we love. You didn’t cause those men to do what they did to Ashley. That’s on them, not you. Baby, you’ve spent long enough beating yourself up for this. It’s time to forgive yourself for whatever you think you’ve done wrong. It’s time to move out of the shadows of the past and start living your life again.”
I buried my head in her neck and let her words wash over me. She held me close and ran her fingers through my hair. Her touch felt so good. After years of denying myself the chance to find love again, Layla’s caresses moved through me, reaching deep into my soul. I had no idea how to even begin to forgive myself, but I figured letting her in was a good place to start.
Lifting my head, I looked into her eyes and said, “Thank you.”
Her smile shone light over me. “Always,” she whispered.
Always.
I needed her skin.
Needed to hold her.
I grabbed her hand and led her to my bedroom.
She let me strip her, and once we were both naked, I took her face in my hands and slowly kissed her. When I ended the kiss, I murmured, “I need you in my arms, baby.”
“I know,” she said, and crawled onto the bed.
I followed her and settled her in my arms. She placed her hand on my chest and traced the skin there. Her body was pressed against mine, our arms and legs entwined, and I wanted nothing more than what she’d already given me.
Tonight, I just needed to hold her.
Chapter Nineteen
Layla
“Annie!” I called up the stairs.
No reply.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. We were going to be late if she didn’t hurry up.
“I’m coming,” she yelled out, and I blew out a breath.
Thank fuck.
A couple of minutes later, she joined me downstairs and I smiled at her choice of outfit. “You look beautiful,” I said, meaning every word I’d said. Annie was a stunning woman, but with the confidence of a child, she didn’t see it.
A blush spread across her cheeks. “Thank you.”
I smiled and reached for her hand so I could join our arms together to walk out to the car. “Okay, chick, let’s get you to your new job.”