Page 97 of Layla

The thought of the asshole out there trying to get close to Layla has my stomach bottoming out. I haven’t officially quit my post. I just told Louis that I thought it would be best if another guard came out to stay with her for a while. That means that for now, at least, I can still be in touch with the team. I’ve been in contact with them every day, getting updates. So far all seems quiet.

But the fact that I haven’t seen Layla in almost a week makes me sick with worry.

“I’m gonna take that as a no,” Tim mutters when I don’t answer. He’s silent again for a few minutes before pulling into a nearly deserted parking lot outside of a diner. I glance around, surprised. We’re on a rundown looking block, the only buildings this diner, a church across the street, and a few closed up retail stores. I know this neighborhood well from my time on the police force and I can unequivocally say it’s not exactly Tim’s scene, with his flashy car and expensive suits. Since coming home from overseas, Tim has made it a point to enjoy only the finer things in life. I have no idea how he even knows that this diner exists.

“Let’s go grab a bite,” he says, turning off the engine. “You look like you can use it, and I want to talk to you.”

I don’t argue. The truth is, I’ve barely eaten in the last week. I still don’t have an appetite, but my earlier work out on an empty stomach is starting to make me feel shaky. I follow him to a booth near the windows where we both order sandwiches and I avoid Tim’s gaze.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” he finally asks, once the waiter has dropped off our sodas.

“No offense, Tim, but a big part of why I’m in this mess is because I took your advice in the first place.”

“So, you admit you’re in a mess,” he muses, looking thoughtful. “What advice did I give you?” Before I can answer, his face clears. “You went for it with the girl. The hot drummer.”

I groan, the reference to Layla sending a fresh jolt of pain through me. I miss her so much it physically hurts. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

“John.” Tim’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle. “Just tell me what the hell happened, man.”

So, I do. Taking a deep breath, I spill it all. The asshole she’d almost hooked up with back in Miami and how insane it had made me. Deciding I didn’t give a shit about protocol anymore and following her back to her room the next night. I tell him about our week of sneaking around before following her back to Dee’s house. And then I tell him about the fucking photo that asshole had delivered, and my throat closes up with anger.

Tim is frowning. “Let me guess, you felt all guilty about the picture and freaked out.”

I glare at him. “No, actually. I didn’t freak out until after I woke up practically strangling her in her mother’s house.”

Shock registers on his face. “You had a flashback?”

Immediately I wish I hadn’t told him. “It was just a nightmare. But she was in bed with me at the time and ended up with a fucking bruised arm, scared out of her mind.”

“She woke you up?”

I wince, thinking yet again of how bad it might have been if she hadn’t managed to wake me. “Yeah.”

“Shit,” he mutters. “I’m really sorry that happened.” He shakes his head in sympathy. “She asked you to go?”

I attack the napkin in front of me, shredding it in long strips. “No. But there was no way in hell I was going to stick around and let something like that happen again.”

Tim holds up a hand. “Hang on. You broke up with her?”

I shift in my seat, hating the sound of those words. “We weren’t really seeing each other, man. It was just, you know. Hooking up.”

I want to throw up. Of course, it was more than that, no matter what I try to tell myself.

Tim, apparently, isn’t buying it either. “Don’t bullshit me, man. I saw the way you looked just now when you talked about her, and I can see how fucked up you are about it. You’re into this girl.”

“I’m in love with her,” I snap. “Which is why I’m not going to ruin her life.”

His eyebrows go up. “Well at least you’re man enough to admit it. As to the rest of it—you know that’s total BS, right?”

I clench my hands under the table. “I could have killed her.”

“But you didn’t.”

“And what about next time?” I snap back. “I should ask her to keep taking that chance with me?”

He watches me for a long moment. “I’m assuming you talked to her about this? Or did you just throw yourself a little pity party and leave in the middle of the night?”

This guy has no idea how close he is to getting punched in the face. I practically have my fist cocked when the waiter returns with our food. But if I thought Tim might be distracted by his meal, I’m sadly mistaken. Before I can even reach for the mustard, he stills me with a hand to my forearm. “What did she say?”