It’s three in the afternoon when I venture to my kitchen for food. Axelle finally went out with Cara, leaving me alone to marinate in the silence. I know that her getting back to her social life doesn’t equal healing. That’ll take time, if it’s even possible.
Learning that the man she’s known as dad her entire life is not only a liar but also a gang-rapist isn’t something she’ll get over anytime soon. I’d offered to hunt down her biological father, to have blood tests done, but she refused. Not wanting to push her too hard too soon, I decided to give her the space she needs to process. Maybe in a few years, even though she swears she’ll never want to know, she’ll change her mind.
I’m still coming to terms with the way Axelle was conceived. Anger, betrayal, and confusion all fight for control in my head. But none of them comes close to the guilt. I regret that I didn’t see through Stewart’s true intentions before I gave him my life, and I’m ashamed because I couldn’t protect Axelle from the ramifications of my horrible decisions. I see years of therapy in our future, but the prospect isn’t daunting. It’s comforting. Because in that future there’s no Stewart. There’s only us.
Only us.
I take a deep breath past the smothering sadness that has been my constant companion. I miss Blake. I’ve worried about what he must be going through. He lost his reputation, his career, everything he’s worked hard to accomplish.
All because of me.
Rummaging through my cupboards, I think back to that night in his music room. The despondent look on his face when he explained his reason for hiding his gift. He was forced to downplay and lock away his natural talent in order to protect himself. Even as an adult, he hides his music from his friends, all because he’s afraid that at any moment something will steal it away.
Then I come along and do exactly that. Rob him of the thing he loves most.
His fighting.
No longer hungry, I give up my search for food. My head is heavy, and I contemplate going back to bed for the next few days. Sitting at the kitchen table, I rub my temples. “I’m going to need a new job.”
Chances are I’ll be fired when the UFL’s parent company gets wind of my involvement in Gibbs’s arrest. I can’t afford to go more than a week without income, and even that’s a stretch. Lucky for me, Vegas has a lot of opportunities. An online job search should keep my mind busy for a few—knock, knock.
I stare at my front door. Who the hell could be stopping by? I finally charged my phone but haven’t checked for missed calls since I woke up.
“Who is it?” I make no move to stand. If it’s a door-to-door salesman, I don’t want to exert the effort.
“Open the door, bitch.” Eve’s unmistakable voice filters clearly through my open kitchen window. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
“You’re going to freak her out.” Raven’s hissed words make me grin… “Layla, it’s us. We’re just checking up, wanted to see if you’re okay.”
“Don’t lie, Rave.” Eve’s attempt at a whisper fails. “We’re taking you out. So let us in. Holding all these hangers is killing my fingers.”
“Eve, stop being so pushy,” Raven says.
I’m covering my mouth, laughing my ass off. These two will never leave, and if I know Eve, she’ll take extreme measures if I don’t comply.
“You haven’t seen pushy yet. But if she doesn’t open this door in the next three seconds, I’ll bust it—”
I scramble up from the table and fling open the door. “No, don’t. I’m here—Ompf!”
Raven tackle-hugs me. “Oh my gosh, Layla. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” She stands back and holds my shoulders, checking me over. “Are you okay? You look okay. Tired maybe, but okay.”
Eve kicks the door shut and strolls past us, both of her arms weighed down with what looks like an entire wardrobe.
“I’m fine. Sorry about my phone. It died, and I finally got around to charging it.”
Her blue-green eyes continue to take me in from face to feet. “I think you need to get out.” She grabs my hand and drags me to my room, where Eve has laid hangers and hangers of clothes on my unmade bed.
“No, I don’t feel like going out.” I lean up against my dresser, eyeing the fabulous dresses and outfits that they brought over. I cross my arms, hoping they see it as a sign of defiance rather than what it really is. Me wanting to tear through those clothes like Bridezilla at a wedding gown sale.
“Uh-uh. I didn’t pull a muscle dragging all this shit up here to be told you don’t feel like going out.” Eve rubs her shoulder, grimacing. “So get your ass in a shower and let’s do this.”
Raven sits on the edge of the bed, pleading with her eyes. “Come on, Layla. It’ll be good for you. A night out with the girls, a few drinks, some laughs… what do ya say?”
That actually does sound nice. I could use a few drinks. And after my extended nap, I don’t see myself falling back to sleep anytime soon.
I shrug. “That could be fun.”