Laughter and lies.
My Layna, my dark, dark heart curled up beside me on my mattress. Her chin digging into my back. It hurt. I could feel her deep inside. I couldn’t get her out.
I tried to claw down and hold on. She wouldn’t let go. Why wouldn’t she let go?
“Shh. Elian, go to sleep.”
I closed my eyes and drifted off.
Because she told me to.
And I listened.
I woke up the next morning to silence. And light.
I sat up in bed; the blanket fell to my lap. I ran my hands over my face trying to remember last night.
Every morning was the same. Trying to recall the events from the night before. And I never could. They were slipping away. Between fingers. Before I could catch them.
What was happening to me?
“You’re awake.” Layna walked in and sat down on the edge of the mattress. She was lovely to look at. I think back to the first time that I saw her. All dark hair and coal black eyes. Reading her book and eating seasoned fries.
How could I have ever known that I would love my nightmare?
“I’m awake.” I looked around, not sure what I was looking for. If I was looking for anything.
“Are you going to work?” Layna asked. My head felt fuzzy and my mouth was dry. I took the cup of coffee Layna held out and drank a mouthful.
“Work?”
Layna widened her eyes. Fathomless holes revealing nothing.
Nothing.
“That place that pays you,” she clarified. Her brows knitting together.
Work.
When was the last time I had gone?
I had been wrapped up in a dead sister and a dead past. I had forgotten…
“You don’t have to go if you’re not up to it. You look like you could sleep some more,” she observed, watching me as I drank my coffee.
I couldn’t think much about going anywhere. I was trapped. Here in my house.
With her.
With her.
“Why are you here?” I asked. I couldn’t remember when she had come. Was it last night?
Why couldn’t I remember last night?
What was wrong with me?
“I called you. You said I could come over.” Layna frowned again. She was upset. Why was she upset?
With me?
“Did my phone ring last night? While you were here?” I asked. No texts. No missed calls.
Where had she gone?
Layna shook her head. “No.”
No.
I stood up and found a pair of jeans and a shirt from the pile on the floor.
“Where are you going?” Layna asked.
“To work,” I told her.
I had to get out of there.
Away from Layna and her coal black eyes that confused me. That consumed me.
I wanted to wrap my arms around her and fall. And fall.
And fall apart.
But I needed to go.
Because the call didn’t come last night. And that destroyed me.
“Why don’t you get a shower?” Layna suggested. I nodded. She was right. I smelled. When was the last time I had been clean?
Sixteen years ago.
“I can help you,” Layna offered. She took me to the bathroom and ran the water. She washed me like I was a child.
She cleaned my skin but not my mind. My memories were intact. There was no cleaning them.
I shivered under her touch. I wanted more. So much more.
There was never enough of Layna.
She let me take her clothes off. She let me fill her body. She let me kiss the pain. A-Way.
I moaned. She sighed. I cried. She laughed.
I loved her.
I loved her.
What was wrong with me?
“Elian, we need to talk,” George said as I walked into the studio. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been there.
Where had I been?
Margie wasn’t there. A different girl was behind the counter. I didn’t recognize her. She didn’t acknowledge me when I came in.
“I can’t right now, George. I have things to do.” I walked into the studio. Stan and Tate looked up but neither greeted me.
I didn’t care.
George followed me. Frowning. Irritated.
“Hang on a sec, Elian. You haven’t been here in over a week. No call. No show. And you just waltz back in like you still have a job!” George sputtered.
Over a week?
Where had I been?
With Amelia.