05

LAYLA

WEDNESDAY.

9:08 PM

“And he said my sex life was lacking? He shoves his fucking spree in my face, Bells. I want to squeeze his fucking neck so bad.”

I moan, twirling my finger at the bartender for another shot. I'm so drunk.

“Well, you aren’t exactly sexually active, aside from that cute Mexican in Denver. That was three months ago.”

“So I should fuck every day like him?”

I sputtered, clipping my lips at how loudly that sounded.

“Of course not. My brother is an asshole; don’t let what he says get to you. Although, I think you’re more furious at your father than him. Why did you go see him anyway?”

"He summoned me. I had no choice. And no—I don’t even want to hear his name. My father is a man who shoved a dick into a woman’s leg. That woman had me. Maybe for the first six years of my life, they played the role of not letting me see how toxic they were, but you can’t act forever. Their masks fell and my childhood, well, that was shitty. My father is just a man. A fertile man.”

I chuckled, sipping the tequila.

“I seem to think I’m the problem. Their marriage went on for half a decade before I came into the picture. Who knows? Maybe a kid caused the rift.”

“Don’t. Self-depreciation isn’t allowed.”

“Bad luck. Troubled child.”

I giggled, reeling in the burn at the back of my throat.

“Self-deprecating humour isn’t allowed either, Lay. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, right? Maybe Aiden is right. I’ve been working my ass off and now with this project. Maybe I need an orgasm to function.”

The guy at the corner peeped at my words. Instead of blushing, I winked and batted my lashes. He was cute.

“Did you say my brother is right? God, I should’ve got that on a recording. You’re drunk if you believe it. We should get going.”

“No. Today is my day off. I spent eighty per cent of it working, and now I am having fun. I know how to have fun.”

I pouted.

“Layla—”

She warned, tugging at my glass.

“Dance with me.”

I was off the stool, reaching for my best friend’s hand, tugging her to the side of the club where the music was being played.

“Layla, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

I wouldn’t either if I were sober, but now I have at least thirty per cent alcohol flooding my body, more than enough to skin out the rationale in my brain.

“Five minutes.”

I brokered, already shoving my hands, reaching high while jerking my waist to the beat of the music. I think I know this one; it’s Colorado by Zugo.

“I love this song!”

I shrieked, taking her hand in mine and swaying.

“Don’t disappoint me…”

My father’s stern voice as a kid echoed. His mantra. For a while, I worked with it. Perfection. Never any failures. Not tonight.

****

“What’s the word those vape kids use? Lit.”

“Oh God, don’t say that again.”

Bella gagged, spitting the entire water out of her mouth. I guggled some down my throat and then tossed the bottle aside. We were back to the bar with drinks, away from the music.

“I thought, for a second, you’d go shaking your ass on some random dude. You know, as most drunk people do.”

“I’m twenty-two, not a stupid teenager in a romance movie, plus I’m drunk, not stupid.”

“The first is facts; the last part is just debatable.”

I rolled my eyes while glaring, taking out the bun my hair was tied in, so it’d drop freely.

Then, I got a text on my phone.

“Who’s texting?”

Taking out my inbox, a throaty noise escapes my lips.

“Satan. He’s caught up to me.”

The text was plain. List of cities. There’s Hawaii, Toronto, and Berlin.

Why is he sending me...? Another text popped in.

“Those are Cities Penelope has pending contracts with; they may be slowing down the wedding, so we may have to sort them out for her. Game on.”

I let out a hiss so loud that I need to look around if anyone’s glaring. We’re meant to work together, yet he’s making this a competition. I’ll regret this in the morning, but who cares?

“That round ended, and I won; you’re just begging for pity points. I thought you’d do better by getting a head start on the next.”

Too petty not to insert an emoji? Probably. I hit send and dropped it.

“That guy won’t stop staring at you. Dare you to go get his number.”

I nudged Bella's shoulder.

“I thought we weren’t acting like teenagers tonight.”

“Alright then. Let’s make it more mature. Get his number and talk with him.”

“What do I get in return?”

She recknoed with a smirk, already adjusting her gown.

“Tea on what Aiden and I have been doing.”

I winked and knew that caught her attention.

“Alright. Fuck it.”

She hopped off the stool, dashing towards her target.

Chuckling, my phone’s screen lights up and halts my excitement.

Aiden sent an attachment. It's tickets. Booked tickets to those cities, and they’re a week apart from the other. We’ll be in Toronto next week. More importantly, how did he get all my details, including my passport? What in fuck’s...

“How’s that for round two, love?”

Impressive. I snicker, then hit respond.

“Bleak. I could do better.”

I spy Bella, who’s already laughing at something he said. Eye roll.

Aiden texts again.

“The key word being could, but the fact remains can’t.”

I hiss again.

“Fuck off, Smith. Shouldn’t you be fucking someone?”

“Just finished.”

He answers, and I cringe.

“Go for another round and leave me the hell alone.”

“Let me guess you’re home alone on your bed, thinking about how you could be doing anything else but that?”

“Goodnight, Aiden.”

I retorted, then shut the screen off completely.

“I did it. Now spill.”

Bella demanded, swiping a note with the bad guy’s number on it.

“You’ve watched the wedding planner series, right?”

I pushed a Bentley towards the middle, so we could each grab it as needed.

****

THURSDAY.

DAY 02/60

“Good morning, Freckles.”

I hear shuffling and my hair being taken off my face, so the light reflects over my skin. My eyes are still shut, but it’s a male’s voice.

Freckles? My father used to call me that. No one else has said that to me since I was seven.

The road of reminiscence is cut. My weight is taken off the height it was suspended on and free-falling to the ground.

“Bloody hell!”

I scream, wincing in pain.

“It’s eight in the morning, and I come by to your apartment, and you never made it home. Imagine my surprise when I see my sister’s I*******m post. It’s both of you at a club last night. Then I come over here, and you’re what? Sleeping on the couch? That isn’t very professional, Layla.”

Aiden. Mother fucking Aiden. He shoved me off the couch.

I balance and feet and reach him, blinking the sleep away and then exhaling.

“Did you just push me off that couch?”

I recoiled my hand towards it, not taking my face off him.

“Yes.”

He matched my look, tilting his head down to glare.

Two sharp intakes of breaths, and then my hand is flying towards his stupid face.

“Fuck!”

He yelled, stepping back at the impact.

“I’ll kill you!”

I’m on my way to the kitchen for knives when I stop halfway by Bella.

“What’s going on?”

She’s holding two cups of coffee and a sachet of painkillers. I turn towards her side for a bypass, which is blocked.

“I’m going to kill him.”

I swore and moved into the kitchen, pulling the first knife I could reach.

“Okay. Okay. Calm down. Deep breaths.”

“No. He shoved me off the couch. He fucking pushed me.”

“You needed to wake up.”

Aiden utters from the living room.

“Ugh!”

Bella dropped the cups and moved towards me, trying to take the knife away.

“Layla.”

“No. I’m sick of him! I’ll just give him a cut. Maybe on those lips, So he shuts his damn mouth!”

I yelled.

“Maybe think for a second. I know my brother can be annoying...”

“Lil Sis, we’re family.”

She curves her head and glares.

“See? He’s an asshole. I’ll kill him.”

“Layla.”

He mutters, and I stare across from Bella to him. He’s taller than her, so I can make out his stupid head.

“Layla.”

He repeats a second time, trailing towards me with both hands in his pocket.

Once he finally reaches, I’m almost panting with my fingers, clutching the knife. I lift it to the base of his neck, having to stand on my toes to reach it.

He didn’t even blink. I turn to his eyes, but they’re already on mine.

“I hate you.”

I fume, applying just a little more pressure on the surface of his skin. He laughs quietly and then propels his head lower. My knife retreats as he does until his head is at the corner of my ear.

“Mutually shared feeling love. We both know you’re not going to cut me with a knife, so drop it, and we can get to work.”

He stands straight with a smug ass grin.

“If you ever lay a hand on me again, I will kill you. You’re lucky Bella is your sister.”

I grit hard, then step back.

“Wait until you’re begging me not to take my hands off you.”

He answers easily. I close the gap, lift my leg, and kneed his foot.

“Dream big, asshole, but try to keep it realistic.”

I tossed the knife and went back to the living room for the coffee. Day Two of Hell on Earth, starring Aiden Smith as Lucifer.

****