Because of You

“I should have known better than to tell you to stay put,” Adam tells me with a small laugh.

Austin had made it to my place in record time. I jumped in his car, turned on my portable police scanner, and quickly discovered the address the police department was searching.

Looking around the small mobile home, I curl my lip in disgust when I see the dirty dishes piled in the sink, the stains on the walls and carpet, and enough fast food wrappers to feed a small country littering every single surface.

“This is the third address we’ve found for Billy Marsh. The other two were apartments, and they were empty. The landlord for both places told us the guy hasn’t been there in months and if we see him to let him know he’s been evicted,” Adam explains as he turns and tells the fingerprint analyst to start in the back of the trailer and make his way forward. “There wasn’t anything in the other two places linking this guy to Layla, Finn, or Eve, so we’re hoping we’ll find something in here. Otherwise, we’re back to square one.”

Adam gives me a pat on the back, then walks away to talk to a detective who just came through the door after interviewing neighbors.

After Eve had confessed everything to Gwen and me, I immediately called Adam to fill him in. He knows Eve hired Ray/Billy to kill Jack, and he knows she kept the secret of Finn and Layla being siblings all these years. Adam had sent a patrol car to my house to pick Eve up and take her into the station. Surprisingly, after Eve unburdened herself of all her transgressions, she accepted responsibility for all of the things she’s done wrong and went with them willingly. She knows her life is pretty much over and there's nothing she could do about it but cooperate.

Adam comes back over to me and flips open his note pad.

“We found Finn’s vehicle. It was in a pretty bad hit and run accident just south of downtown on a side street that doesn’t get much traffic. The front end is completely smashed, and it was hit so hard that it was pushed into a telephone pole,” Adam explains as he reads the notes in his hand.

“Oh Jesus. Is Layla okay? Was she in there?” I ask frantically, hoping to God that she wasn’t hurt too bad.

Adam looks up from his pad and shakes his head.

“The vehicle was empty, Brady. There was some blood on the driver’s side and passenger side. The lab is running the samples right now just to make sure, but…”

Adam trails off and I’m glad he doesn’t continue. I know what he's about to say, and I don’t need to hear him say it out loud.

Layla was in the car when it crashed, she’s bleeding, and now who knows where the f*ck she is. I know from when she was attacked outside the club that her blood doesn't clot very well, so if she’s hurt bad enough and doesn’t receive treatment, her life will be on the line. I should have never let her walk out that door. I should have told her the truth when she stormed over to me with all that passion and conviction in her voice. I should have turned around and told her I loved her instead of pushing her away and making her feel like she didn’t matter.

“Hey, Brady,” Austin calls to me from the hallway. “There’s something back here you need to take a look at.”

Stepping over trash and dirty clothes, I head down the hall behind Austin, following him into a small, cramped bedroom with Adam right on my heels.

“Oh my God,” I mutter as I look around the room.

“Holy f*ck,” Adam whispers, echoing my shock.

Every single available surface is covered with pictures and news articles of Layla and Hummingbird Records. There’s a picture of her on stage at practically every venue she’s been to and pictures of her from magazine articles, photo shoots, and entirely too many candid photos taken from a distance with a telephoto lens. Layla having lunch with Finn at an outdoor café; Layla grocery shopping at Puckett’s; Layla sitting on her front porch holding onto the guitar she’d just played for me; a copy of the picture of the two of us in the truck that had been left on my front windshield.

There are articles pinned to the wall about each new recording artist that Hummingbird signed, copies of their financial reports, and print-outs of Eve’s personal brokerage and savings accounts. Her net worth and that of Hummingbird Records is plastered all over one wall and up on part of the ceiling.

“Jesus, this guy is a sick f*ck,” Austin says as he bends down and looks at the picture of Layla and me. I want to tear that thing off of the wall and rip it to shreds so no one else can see it, no one else can be a part of that private moment between the two of us, but I know I can’t. It’s evidence and it needs to stay right where it is.

“Eve swore she hadn’t talked to this guy since that night she asked him to do something about Jack, right?” Austin asks. “If she’s telling the truth and she didn’t hire this guy to stalk Layla as some sort of twisted publicity stunt, who the hell did?”

I run my fingers through my hair in frustration and turn around in a circle, my eyes running over every single thing in the room.

“Finn. It has to be Finn. He lied about Billy being in custody to get her out of the house,” I reply.

“Okay, so he was pissed about the fact that they were siblings and she got all the limelight when he got diddly squat, but that doesn’t explain how the hell he even knew who this guy was or why he would do something as stupid as put her in his path,” Austin replies.

“How would you feel if one day you found out you had a rich megastar for a sister, and the mother who did everything she could to make sure your sister rose to stardom completely denied your existence?” I ask him.

“Yeah, that’s pretty messed up, and it would probably make me mad, but mad enough to form a connection with a dangerous, convicted felon who would probably stab you in the back, literally and figuratively, to get what he wants? This Billy guy is ten shades of f*cked up from what his rap sheet says. Why the hell would Finn want to tangle with him?”

Glancing over at the wall that holds the only window in the room, my brow furrows as I step closer to a large blueprint that hangs on the wall to the left of it.

“Is that the layout of Hummingbird?” Austin asks, coming up behind me.

“Yeah, it is. Why the f*ck would he need this?”

Austin and I study the page, but it’s just a standard blueprint. There’s nothing written on it and no notes to clue us in as to why this guy has this in his home.

“Can you say obsessed much? Maybe he’s planning on taking all of Eve’s money, taking what he thinks should be his since she basically used him and then tossed him aside,” Austin thinks aloud.

“That would explain why he has all of her financial information, but what the hell would he need this for and where does Finn fit in?” I ask, pointing to the blue-tinted engineering design that shows every emergency exit, every cubicle, every meeting room, and every storage space.

We stare at it for a few more minutes, my impatience growing with each breath I take. Every second we waste is another one where Layla is missing.

“Is Finn his kid? Eve messed around with the guy nine years ago. Who knows how long it was going on before that? Maybe the two of them hatched a plan. Father and son taking what’s rightfully theirs,” Adam states.

“Eve denied that when I asked her. She said that she knows for a fact Finn isn’t Billy’s son, and when I accused her of lying, she told me to go ahead and rerun the DNA. The father was a one-night stand. She hadn’t seen Billy for at least a year before Finn was conceived,” I explain.

“Well, there goes that idea,” Austin complains, angrily flicking his finger against the blueprint. The tack holding it to the wall comes loose, and the page flutters to the floor. It lands facedown, and I quickly pick it up when I see handwriting on the back in the lower left-hand corner.

“Soundproof basement. Access door next to conference room B. Building will be closed on Sunday, will make sure the delivery door on the south side of the building is left unlocked. I’ll make sure she’s there,” I read aloud. “This is Finn’s handwriting.”

I feel sick to my stomach as I read the words that Layla’s own brother wrote on the back of the page.

“Son of a bitch. He delivered her up like a lamb to the slaughter,” Austin curses.

Crumpling up the page in my hand, I throw it against the wall and stalk from the room, rage flowing through me as I shove people out of my way. Slamming open the door of the trailer, I pull my gun from my side holster and check the clip, making sure I have more than enough bullets to shoot through Finn’s heart when I get to that lying sack of shit.

“Brady! Hold up!” Austin yells as he jogs up to me and grabs my arm.

I fling it off and quickly turn to face him, my fear for Layla’s safety exploding out of me.

“Don’t f*cking tell me to hold up! I’ve been climbing the walls this whole f*cking day hoping and praying that she’s still alive,” I shout at him.

“Dude, I know. I know you’re freaked the f*ck out, but you need to be smart about this. You can’t go in there alone, half-cocked or you’ll get yourself killed,” he argues.

I shove both of my hands against his chest and push him away from me. He stumbles a few times before regaining his footing.

“Do you think I give a f*ck what happens to me if Layla is gone? DO YOU?” I scream.

Austin quickly advances on me and gets in my face as a few neighbors and a handful of Nashville’s finest stand around outside the trailer watching me lose my shit.

“Don’t be a f*cking a*shole, man! I’m here to help you, you stubborn son of a bitch! What do you think you’re going to do? Go in there with that Nancy-ass weapon and light the place up like f*cking Rambo?” Austin shouts back.

We stand there staring at one another, both of our chests heaving in anger and our fists clenched to our sides until the fight finally leaves me and I realize I’m standing outside having a shouting match with one of my best friends instead of formulating a plan to get Layla back.

“Stop calling my Beretta 9mm Nancy. It can shoot circles around your pitiful excuse for a weapon,” I finally tell him.

Austin throws his head back in a laugh and punches me in the arm.

“You only wish, a*shole. Now, are we going to go get your girl back or what? Because something tells me you’ve gone to the dark side with Garrett, and now I’m going to have the two of you boring me with details about your amazing women and all the hot sex you’re having,” Austin says with another laugh as we walk towards his car and get in.

“Guys, hold up!”

We hear Adam’s voice through the open window as he runs across the yard with papers in his hand.

“I just called in for backup. They’re going to meet you at Hummingbird. But you need to see this before you go,” he says, sticking his hand through the driver’s side window.

Austin takes the pages from his hand and gives them to me before starting up the car.

“Thanks, man. It’s going to take us about twenty minutes to get there, so let me know if anything changes,” I tell Adam before Austin guns the engine, throwing rocks and dirt out behind his car as he speeds out of the driveway.

“What is it?” Austin asks as he weaves in and out of traffic while I read what Adam gave me and hold on tight to the door handle.

“It looks like emails between Billy and Finn dating back to a few months ago.





August 14, 2012

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

The plan is in motion. Letters have been sent.





September 9, 2012

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

No more letters. It’s getting to be too much, and I think Eve is actually going to do something about it.





September 23, 2012

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Don’t think. It’s not something you’re good at. I’ll decide when it’s too much.





October 1, 2012

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

What in the hell are you doing? You weren’t supposed to attack her. That wasn’t part the plan. We need to stop this right now.





October 5, 2012

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

I’m so tired of watching all of these fans kiss her ass. Everyone loves her when they should love me instead. We need a new plan. I don’t think what we’re doing is a good idea. It will never work.





October 8, 2012

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

No, we don’t need a new plan. Everything is moving along just like we want it to. Stop being such a pathetic excuse for a man and get me those blueprints.





October 12, 2012

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Two weeks from today will be the day. We will bring Hummingbird Records burning to the ground with a sweet little present tied to a pole in the basement. Eve will finally get what’s coming to her when she no longer has a business to run, and you’ll finally get what you deserve when she no longer has a main attraction to flaunt.





October 21, 2012

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

I can’t do this. I can’t bring you Layla. I know that’s what we agreed, but I can’t do it. I can’t do that to her. We can still go through with the plan of burning the place down, but I’m not bringing Layla. I made sure to cancel the insurance policy, so Eve will get nothing and you win.





October 24, 2012

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Bring her to me today, or you’ll be the one tied to the basement as it goes up in flames.





In the dark, cold room, I blink my eyes to focus, but all I can think about is the pain. It hurts to breathe and every inch of my body feels bruised and battered. Probably because it is.

Oh God! Why is this happening to me?

I try to move, to get up off of the hard floor, but my broken body isn’t cooperating. I need to find a way out of here or I won't survive this. I know with every part of my being that if I don’t leave this room, I’m going to die here. Alone.

The tears run down my face, and I can’t even move my arms to brush them away; something is holding them in place.

I slowly turn my head to the side, trying not to throw up from the pain that rushes through me with that one simple movement. I’m tied down to something, but I can’t make out what it is. The only light in the room comes from a street lamp right outside, which throws a thin ray of light through the small window close to the ceiling.

With all of the strength I can muster, I try to pull one of my arms free from whatever is holding me in place, the bindings cutting into my wrists and pain instantly shooting up my arm that's most likely broken in several places.

My scream echoes through the empty room and my throat aches from all of the screaming I’ve already done…yesterday? The day before? I’m losing track of time.

Oh God, this is the arm I play with. This is the arm that cradles the guitar to my side and the fingers that strum the notes that take me away to another place. Notes and melodies that bring me back to life and allow me be who I really am.

“Shhh, don’t scream. It’s okay, it will all be over soon.”

I think I hear a voice by my ear, but I know it’s just in my head. It’s a voice that used to always soothe me, but now it just makes me want to weep. This voice doesn’t tell me how much it loves me anymore or how much my friendship means; it tells me how much it hates, how much it resents, and how much it wants me to suffer. All of my good memories of this voice have been replaced by the bad that happened here in this room.

I know I’m going to pass out again soon. My vision is swimming. Spots flash before my eyes as I struggle to remain conscious. I’m cold, so cold. I’ve lost a lot of blood. Blood I can’t afford to lose because of my condition. I can taste it in my mouth, feel it on the side of my face, and see it dripping onto the floor next to my head in a puddle. My body shivers and my teeth chatter so hard I think they might crack.

Flashbacks of the past few months run through my mind like someone flipping the pages of a book, and my heart shatters at the memories. I should have seen what was happening. I should have listened to Brady from the beginning when he tried to warn me about Finn, but everything about him scared me. The force of what I felt for Brady shouldn’t have been so strong so quickly. He had my heart and my soul from the very first touch, the very first moment. But he didn’t want it. He didn’t want any of it. I trusted too quickly, gave my heart away too easily.

Trusting someone is what got me into this mess. I trusted the wrong person, and now I’m going to pay for it with my life. Someone who should have been there for me and protected me…it was all a lie from the very beginning. Finn never cared about me. Deep down I knew it, I’d always known it. Every time I finished a performance and got off the stage with the crowd screaming and cheering for me, Finn would try to look happy, but looking back, I see now that his happiness was forced. He was jealous. He had always been jealous. I just never wanted to believe the hatred ran that deep.

I let the darkness wash over me, knowing it’s the only way the pain will go away. Ray, Billy, whatever the hell his name is got down on his knees between my legs after he punched me earlier, and as I floated in and out of consciousness, there wasn’t any fight left in me to stop him from tying me to the pole with the rope Finn secured or unbuckling his pants. The only thing holding me together right now is the fact that something stopped him from ruining me any further. Something caused him to scramble off of me quickly, and I remember watching him through the tiny slits in my eyes. His hands were in the air, and he was arguing with someone. I don’t know who it was, and I don’t care since they didn’t bother to save me. Billy isn’t here anymore but I am. I’m still here and I’m not going anywhere.

I can smell smoke now. It’s all around me, burning my nose and clawing at my throat. I’m handcuffed and tied to a pole in the basement of a room that I’m pretty sure is burning.

Closing my eyes, I think back over the last nine years and wonder about all of the things I should have done differently, the choices I made that have led me to where I am now. If I had never let my mother control me, never succumbed to the undeniable connection I had to Finn…if we hadn’t experienced that initial pull towards each other that I now know was something more than friendship—it was blood—maybe things wouldn’t be ending this way.

I hear shouts and the pounding of footsteps in the distance, but I can’t force my eyes open no matter how hard I try. Billy and Finn are probably just coming back to finish the job, not satisfied with how much they have already broken me, how much they have already taken from me.

Maybe if I had realized sooner, listened earlier, put away my pride and the belief that deep down everyone has some good in them, I wouldn’t be where I am now—fighting for my life and wondering if the person I love cares enough to save me from this hell.

With my eyes closed, ready to just be done with all of this, I see a burst of light behind my eyelids as someone flips on the light switch and I hear Brady’s voice. But I know it’s not real. It can’t be real. I’m hearing it because I want to hear it. I want him to love me back, and I want him to be here making all of this go away.

“Put the gun down, Finn! NOW!”

The dream is so real I swear I hear Brady screaming. It makes me smile, knowing that my last thoughts are of him, even if he doesn’t love me. His strong, deep voice washes over me and warms every inch of my cold body.

“NO! It’s over! It’s all f*cking over! I’ve ruined everything!” Finn shouts back.

“Don’t do this, Finn. You killed Billy, you did something good to make up for all of the bad. Put the gun down so we can get out of here,” Brady argues.

My eyes slowly open and I gingerly turn my head to the side, the cold, unblinking eyes of Billy looking right at me a few feet away with a bloody bullet hole right in the middle of his forehead.

“Come on, man. The building is about to blow. We all need to get the f*ck out of here right now.”

Another man’s voice echoes through the room, and it’s not one I recognize. I can’t tell if this is a dream anymore. They said Billy was dead and he is. I’m looking right at him, but I don’t know if what I’m seeing is real. I don’t know if what I’m hearing is really happening. It’s all so confusing and I just want to go to sleep.

“I can’t leave! Don’t you understand? I deserve this! I deserve to die here!” Finn shouts.

His words make me sad for some reason. No matter what he did, no one deserves to die here all alone.

“Don’t make me shoot you, man. Put the gun down. I need to get Layla out of here, Finn. Look at her. She’s barely holding on,” Brady pleads with a shaky voice.

I suddenly feel a hand on my face, and I want to tell whoever it is not to touch me. It hurts. Everything hurts.

“I’m sorry, Layla. I’m so sorry. I just wanted what you had. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was so mad at you for getting everything and you didn’t even want it. I should have never made that phone call to Billy. I should have known he wouldn’t let it be that simple,” Finn tells me with a sob as I feel his hands smoothing the hair off of my face.

“Get away from her, Finn, right now!” Brady screams, his voice closer than it was before.

“I’m so messed up in the head, Layla. I’m messed up and I f*cked up. You need to know that I changed my mind. I wasn’t going to bring you here today. But Billy knew it and he followed me and he slammed into my SUV and made me bring you here. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Lay. It will be over soon. Don’t worry, it will all be over soon,” Finn coos softly next to my ear.

I hear the cock of a gun and shut my mind off, knowing that this is the end.

“GOD DAMMIT, FINN! NO!”

Explosions from several different guns go off all at once and the noise ricochets off of the walls and all around me. I don’t feel like I’ve been shot but who knows. I’m already in so much pain I probably wouldn’t even notice if a bullet pierced my skin anyway. I let myself drift away in the darkness, happy for the first time since all of this started.

I’m dying. I can feel it. My head is fuzzy from the blood loss. A couple of punches to the head wouldn’t be much for some people, but it’s everything to someone with my condition. My blood doesn’t clot like a normal person; it just pours and pours out of me until there’s nothing left. My lungs are filling up with smoke, and it hurts too much to cough to get it out. Nothing flows past my lips but a few gasps and whimpers. I let the smoke travel down my throat and enter my body hoping the fog circling around my lungs, my heart, and all through me helps to numb the pain. It’s probably crazy that my heart is happy when my life ebbs and flows out of me and I can feel my heart slowing down. But at least I have that one little thing left to hold onto as I float away. I’m happy because even if it was a dream, even if Brady was never here, at least for a moment I got to pretend that he was. For just a moment, I felt cared for and loved. He found me and he tried to save me, even if he didn’t succeed. With my eyes closed, I can almost smell his body wash through the stench of smoke; I can almost feel the warmth of his body as he holds me close and calls me baby. I always love it when he calls me baby.

“Layla, open your eyes, baby. Don’t leave me, please.” I imagine his soft voice pleading with me as he easily lifts me into his arms and takes me away from my own personal hell.

“Stay with me. Please! Stay with me!”

I smile as I imagine the things that he might say to me if he was really here, but my imagination isn’t exactly accurate. His voice sounds sad and completely wrecked. That’s not how he really sounds, so I know it’s all just a wonderful dream. Brady doesn’t cry. He’s strong and he’s amazing and he turned me into a fighter. I want to tell him that I tried. I tried to make him proud, and I tried to fight today, but it was too much. It was all too much.

“It’s okay, Layla. You did good. You did so good, baby, and I’m so proud of you.”

I sigh contentedly, knowing that’s all I ever wanted—to make him proud and show him that I'm worth it. I will always remember his voice and his smile and his laugh. No matter what, I will remember. I love him. I love him. I love you.

“I love you too, baby. Do you hear me? I love you. Stay with me.” I imagine him begging again, his voice ripped apart with sobs as I float away grabbing on to my love for him and taking it with me.