Taking the Fall Read online

  “Justin must be wearing off on you, Lays, because you’re starting to sound like a snot.”

  I shudder slightly when I thinking of anything of Justin’s rubbing off on me and I cave to her suggestion, wanting to change the subject. And besides, she always lets me pick and I want to do this for her.

  “Fine, I’ll bring a change of clothes and we can leave from work.” I let out a dramatic sigh and adopt a weary tone. “And go to drinks at the Kat House.”

  Jeanette starts letting out hoots and hollers. I can see her in my head, dancing around her studio apartment.

  “Don’t bring any clothes. I’ve got you. Maybe if I get you all dolled up tonight and looking like one extra sexy bitch you can finally live up to your name, Lays.”

  Rolling my eyes at the nickname Jeanette gave me forever ago, I agree, only to get her off the phone so I can go ahead and pack an extra set of clothes. Jeanette gave me my nickname when I started working at the library and we became friends. At first I thought it was just a cute abbreviation of my name, but soon I found out it was because I never get laid.

  I guess after watching me shoot down date request after date request, she figured I wasn’t getting any. And of course she was right. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get any—God, did I want to get some! I just hadn’t found anyone who piqued my interest. Needless to say, I wasn’t going to date one of the teachers who were always at the library. No way was I mixing my two worlds. I had already learned that lesson the hard way. It was because of that I had to start my life over, and I didn’t want to do it again. My life is good here. It might still be lonely, but at least the people around me express emotion.

  Maybe the romance novels have me jaded. I always thought my first and only would be Carter. I know now that’s not happening so I’ve been trying to move on, but not one person has sparked even a fraction of the feelings I had for him. Who am I kidding? Feelings I have for him is more like it. No matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I push, it still ends up back with him. It pisses me off. I started this new life to move forward but most of the time I feel like I’m just going in circles.

  Maybe it’s time I stopped living in my books and pushed myself harder. A sexy night at the Kat House could be just what I need. Let loose and live a little. It’s why I came here, isn’t it? To be free. Maybe even a little wild. I should just get my first time over with. Just rip it off like a Band-Aid. I need to take a page from Jeanette’s book and have a no-strings, sex-filled night, aided by a little liquid courage.

  It’s odd I’ve never even thought about doing it with Justin. I enjoyed the easiness of our relationship. I’m comfortable around him and that makes me feel safe for some reason. I know he can’t hurt me emotionally and I know if he ever dumped me or moved on I would pull through easily enough. I would miss his friendship but it wouldn’t be a love lost.

  We’ve gotten hot and heavy a few times but I always pull back. Just when things start to go to the next level, I push him away. I’m going to have to meet him for lunch and end things. It’s not right leading him on when I don’t think this can go anywhere. I know he wanted the whole marriage and babies thing because we’ve talked about it before. I want that too, but I want it with a man I can’t live without. A part of me loves that Justin is so laid-back and doesn’t push me, but another, bigger part of me thinks I can’t keep going on like this. Maybe I should take the coward’s way out and just send an e-mail…no, I can’t do that.

  Glancing back at the clock, I see I need to get a move on so I’m not late for work. I grab my work bag and head out the door without packing a bag for tonight. If I want to start making changes, maybe it won’t be so bad to see what Jeanette has planned for me. If I don’t pack a bag then at least I’ll have to wear what she brings, and there will be no backing out.

  When I get to work, the day seems to fly by with seemingly endless groups of students and reading sessions. I try to set up a lunch date to meet with Justin but he tells me he’s too busy with work and that we’ll talk later. After clearing out the last bunch of students and locking up the library for the day, Jeanette drags me into the bathroom for a quick make-over.

  She puts me in a black minidress and I protest that everyone can see my underwear if I bend over. Her only suggestion is that I should take them off. Well then, I guess I’ll just risk people seeing my underwear because ditching my panties is not an option. The dress fits me like a second skin and I feel totally exposed.

  We leave our cars at the library and grab a taxi to a local steakhouse. Jeanette has somehow snagged us a last-minute reservation and we’re swiftly seated. Having skipped lunch to play the piano over at the high school, I’m starving and hope that the steak I’m about to devour will fit into this dress with me.

  All through dinner I fidget with the dress. The only thing that makes me feel comfortable is my footwear—five-inch spiked heels. They’re the only things that feel like me, at least. I’m going to have to sneak to the bathroom before we head to the Kat House and maybe tone down the make-up Jeanette put on me. I swear my dark-red lipstick is screaming “I love to suck cock. Does anyone have one I can use?”

  “Stop fidgeting, Lays,” Jeanette admonishes, taking a long sip of her cosmo. “You look sexy as all fuck.”

  Maybe that’s the key, I think, grabbing my own cosmo and shooting it back. I need to relax and enjoy myself. I relish the burn and buzz of the alcohol but something is bothering me. I’m not sure if I’m fidgety because of the dress or because I feel like someone is watching me. I’ve had the feeling for a few weeks now, but lately it’s been constant. I can’t help but think my father has found me. I’ve done my best to hide my tracks using a few tricks I learned from the boys back home. I kept my first name but I thought it would be hard for people to track me with just that alone. I considered dyeing my hair to change my look when I first ran away. My red hair always seems to attract attention, but whenever I looked in the mirror it reminded me of my mother. She might have been a shit mom but it made me feel a little bit closer to her.

  I always thought it was a matter of time until someone found me—either my father or someone looking to use me against him. That’s the reason my father says he kept me so tightly locked away. He did it because he has so many enemies who could use me as leverage against him. As the years have passed, nothing has happened and I’ve started to think he either gave up or he just didn’t care enough to find me. Maybe he even thought it was for the best I was gone.

  “Sorry! I just feel like a slut,” I say, tugging my hem down my thigh once more.

  “Hey bitchness, that’s my dress you’re wearing,” Jeanette responds, giving me a little smirk.

  “Yeah, but it looks longer on your skinny ass whereas my size twelve sucks up some of the important ass-covering length.”

  Jeanette snorts and sips at her drink. She’s the definition of beautiful. She’s the picture in your head when you hear the word ‘model’—long, flowing, perfectly tousled blonde hair, sun-kissed skin that makes her aquamarine eyes almost glow. She makes men take notice when she walks into a room. She looks wholesome and sweet when she’s dressed casually, but tonight she’s done up like she’s about to pound the runway. I’m not sure how she pulls off that tiny waist because the girl could out-eat me any day of the week. Some girls get all the luck.

  “Nothing wrong with showing a little slut now and again, Lays. It’s good for you. What do you think Justin would say if he could see you right now?”

  I know if Justin saw me like this he would probably give me a scolding about what is and isn’t appropriate attire. I hear it about my shoes on the regular from him. I could be covered from neck to ankle and he would say my shoes were too suggestive. No way was I giving up the shoes. This should have been a red flag months ago and nipped us in the ass. He and Jeanette never really got along either. She thinks there’s something slimy about him and always loves to give him a quick jab about something or other. It’s gotten so bad that I don’t ever invite them to the same events anymore. They’re like oil and water—it’s just never going to work.

  “It doesn’t really matter what Justin thinks. I was planning on ending it today, but he couldn’t meet me for lunch to give me the chance.”

  “Oh shit! So you’re a single bitch tonight! Just when I didn’t think this day could get any better. You and me, both single and heading to the Kat House. Lays, it’s going to be one kickass night,” she chirps giddily, a giant smile on her face.

  “Hate to burst the bubble but didn’t you hear when I said I didn’t get to break up with him?”

  Snatching my phone from the table, she fiddles with it for a moment before dropping it back down.

  “Well now you have,” she says with a grin.

  “No, you didn’t!” I exclaim and grab my phone. Yep. She did it. She sent a text to Justin: “Sorry, this isn’t working.” She even added a winky face at the end. I don’t know why I’m shocked.

  “A winky face? Really?”

  “Hey, just trying to soften the blow a little. I felt like a winky face could do that,” she says, nodding as if this is a known fact. “Lays, really, Justin being out of your life is a good thing. He wasn’t the right fit for you and I’m telling you something weird is up with him.”

  “You’re just saying that because you don’t like him,” I reply.

  “No, I’m saying that because the man has a stick up his ass, but can’t seem to get his own stick into you.”

  I blush because the elderly couple sitting at the table next to us begins staring at us in shock. Jeanette gives them a wink.

  “I’m just not ready yet,” I whisper, hoping not to draw more attention to us.

  “Lays, come on now. You’re twenty-four years old. The problem is he isn’t working for you. You two have been together for over a year. A year. If you still haven’t given it up to him by now you’re not going to. So let it go.”

  I know she’s right. It’s time to move on and try something different. Staying with him just because he can’t hurt me is actually hurting me. Sometimes not caring is just as bad as caring.

  “I know. I wish I could be more like you.”

  “Gotta look at men like I do, Lays. They’re only good for one thing, and 90% of the time I either have to tell them how to do it or finish the job myself.”

  Rolling my eyes, I motion for the waiter to bring another round. I notice a man dressed in all black staring at us as he leans up against the bar and that uneasy feeling returns.

  “Hey, let’s finish this round and head out,” I say, glancing back to see if the man is still staring. He is.

  “Sounds like a great plan to me,” Jeanette replies and stands up. “Just going to head to the bathroom to touch up my make-up and we can head out.”

  I look down at my phone and notice Justin hasn’t texted back. Either he doesn’t care or he’s too busy. Story of my life. It seems like all the men in my life don’t care if I’m gone. Grabbing my fresh cocktail, I chug it down and feel it warm my throat. Maybe that will help me loosen up tonight.

  CARTER

  The day I get out of prison I know exactly where I’m going, I’m just not sure which direction it is. I walk out of the joint wearing the clothes I walked in with and clutching a brown grocery bag they threw my shit in. Eight years of working out for entertainment means my clothes are a bit snug. My white thermal long-sleeve is stretched tight across my chest and it feels weird as hell to be out of my peels and in normal clothes. The thighs of my jeans are trying to bust some seams, but thank God my boots still fit. I feel a little like myself, sliding on those motherfuckers. I was released back into the wild a little early, based on the conditions of my plea bargain. It’s about goddamn time.

  As soon as the gate opens, my boy Saint is waiting on me. That grinning bastard is leaning up against my GTO and looking every bit the arrogant asshole I left on the outside. Walking up, I shoulder him out of the way and say “Where.”

  It’s not a question, it’s a demand and he needs to get his ass in gear if he’s taking me where I need to go.

  He laughs. “Yo, good to see you too, man.” He shoulders me back but I’m as big as a brick shithouse so I don’t move an inch. I glare at him and speak clearly. Maybe he got kicked in the head by a mule while I was on the inside. “Where. Is. She.”

  “Calm down, Carter. You’ve been out for twenty-three seconds. Our bags are in the back and we’re headed straight there. I realize we couldn’t discuss this in our phone calls, but you can speak in actual sentences instead of grunts now.” His big grin does nothing to calm my nerves as he pulls out the keys to my classic. I snatch them out of his hand and take a second to run my hands over the top and down the side of my 1967 turquoise beast.

  “If you’ve finished molesting the vehicle, I’ve got a few presents for you in the car to open on the way. Shall we?” Saint walks around to the passenger side and gets in. Bastard is still grinning.

  I open my door, put my bag behind the driver seat and slide on in. I crank the beast to life and I feel it. I’m not what you call a “smiley” type of guy. I’m more of a “silently plotting your death” dude, but right now I can feel my grin as the engine roars to life and I let out the clutch.

  “Head towards the interstate. She’s in Reno,” Saint says. “I’ve got eyes on her right now, before you ask. I’m always the one watching her but I know how you feel about someone else driving this thing so I thought I’d make the special trip. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  I don’t say thanks because he owes me and he knows it. “Give me details. We’ve got a long drive.”

  “Little Layla has been in Reno for the past four years. Took off the day she saw you in prison. I’ve been watching her every day since. She works at a library, so pretty much the most boring person on the planet. Her friend Jeanette though? Goddamn, that chick is wild. She’s been at me for a while and I finally cracked…”

  “Unless her friend is sewn to her body, I don’t give a fuck,” I interrupt. “I haven’t been able to talk openly about her for four years. I haven’t even been able to say her goddamn name! I need to know everything. Starting with whether she has a boyfriend.”

  “Umm, about that…listen, C. I don’t think you need to be driving for this convo. Let’s stop and grab some food and then you can read her file while I drive.”

  I look over and glare at him, but I know he’s right. I’ll jerk the car into a tree if I get the wrong answers. I pull off at the next exit and we hit a diner. Before we get out of the car, Saint hands me two packages. One is a gun. I know immediately from the packaging and weight it’s my Kimber 1911. I take it out and slide it in the back waistband of my jeans.

  “Your leather jacket is in the back. I suggest you put it on. Seeing as you’ve been out a total of three hours, let’s not break every law we can before the day is over,” Saint says, getting out of the car.

  The second package is her file. Hers. I can’t even think her name. It’s like a kick in the nuts hearing him say it so casually. I haven’t said her name since she walked out of the prison that day. It was too painful to say it. I flip it open and there she is. The picture was taken in the summer. She’s wearing a tank top, cut-off shorts, and fuck-me four-inch wedges. Her long red hair is big and loud. I don’t know how she thought she could ever hide from anyone with hair like that. It looks like she’s walking away in the pic, but she’s glancing back over her shoulder, like she knows someone is there. “Good girl,” I mumble to no one.

  I softly trace her body in the picture with my finger. I don’t realize I’ve zoned out until Saint taps on the driver-side window.

  “I got some burgers to go. I’ll drive while you obsess.” The asshole is smirking at me. I don’t say anything, just unfold my big body out of the car and go around to the other side, all while clinging to her file. It’s everything I’ve missed since she “disappeared”. Kind of cute how she thought I wouldn’t keep both my eyes on her.

  The next hours are spent with Saint driving and me looking at everything in the folder. I want to know everything I can before we get there. It’s almost a shame she doesn’t know I’m coming for her. She needs protecting and it’s time to get her out of her father’s reach. She may not know it, but I’m not the only one keeping tabs on her.

  It’s late when we make it to the Kat House. The place looks like a fucking hole in the wall. I can’t believe my sweet girl would choose to hang out in a place like this. We pull in and get out of the car. Saint goes up to some shady-looking guy who I’m assuming is who has been watching Layla and they exchange words. I’m getting anxious. I can feel she’s close. I protected her for so many years; my body is attuned to her. I can almost tell you how many feet away she is.

  Saint comes back over and the guy takes off. “She’s inside. They’re at a booth in the back. I’m going in to chat up her friend. You do your thing.” He pats my shoulder and gives me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t start a fight in there, C. You've only been out for a few hours and I don’t want your ass thrown back in.”

  I nod, knowing we’re both thinking the same thing. If I walk into that bar and someone is all over her, I could possibly lose my shit. And she’s gonna be pissed when she sees me.

  I reach around to feel that my gun is secure and my jacket is covering it. I want to walk around the perimeter of the building and check for exit points before I make my way in. I don’t want her trying to get away.

  The place is big so it takes a few minutes before I’m around the back of the building. When I get there, I’m walking towards the exit door when it bangs open.

  Out stumbles my girl.