Layla
I watch Dalton disappear around the side of the house. My heart is still pounding in my chest as I rinse off my legs with the hose and stand in the sun to dry off for a moment. My wrist throbs where I sliced it open on the rose bush. That, or from the feeling of Dalton’s tongue gliding over my skin, which had felt… electrifying.
I blush, then blow out my breath, wiping my wet, bare feet on the grass. I pick up my sandals and the mug I’d tossed in the yard before my ill-fated journey through the marsh and walk into the quiet house. I’m not sure where Dalton went, but after dumping my muddy sandals in the utility sink in the laundry room and walking up to my room, I gather he’s not in the house.
I take a cold shower, scrubbing what feels like years’ worth of grime from my skin. I scrub and scrub until my skin is raw and aching and then wrap myself in a towel and sit on the edge of my bed in the h
LaylaI wrap my hand around the back of Dalton’s neck, my nails raking over his skin. His hair is like silk–soft and thick–and his skin is warm against my touch.He’s here; he’s real, and I’m safe.His lips brush against mine again in a silent invitation. My heart is still hammering in my chest as I close my eyes and part my lips, letting go of the crushing weight of the fear I’d just experienced and everything I thought I’d seen while running for my life through the house.His tongue slides over my lower lip–tasting me. I inhale a desperate breath before his tongue slides into my mouth, over my teeth, my tongue.He makes a low, throaty sound of pure male satisfaction before pressing his hand against my throat and deepening the kiss until I’m gasping for air.He tastes like salt and scotch. His leather and spice scent coils around me as he
DaltonThe power is still out an hour later. I lean my weight against the window sill, rain seeping through the screen as I take a drag from my cigarette and look at the wind-beaten marsh beyond the boundary of the backyard. The storm is finally moving away, the dark clouds funneling in the distance as the storm nears the Gulf. What little moonlight there is to be had illuminates the room in pale silver.Dressed in only my sweatpants, the cool, stormy air brushes over my naked chest as I keep my eyes on the cemetery in the distance.Hearing Layla’s anguished screams for help earlier tonight rocked me to my core, and there’s nothing I can do to ease her fear now. No, this has gone too far. This place has already sunk its teeth into her flesh, and there’s no escape now--for either of us.Another drag of my cigarette clears my head enough to break out of the sex-fueled haze I’ve been languishing in for
LaylaMonday morning hits me like a ton of bricks. The sun is shining hot and heavy when I roll out of bed at nearly 10:00, blinking rapidly to adjust to the startling glare. I slept like the dead. No dreams fractured my mind last night but…I sit on the edge of the bed, dressed in a men’s shirt that smells like Dalton.My throat bobs as I swallow against the sudden tightening there. A dull ache spreads up my inner thighs, and a bite mark I know is on my left breast sings with awakening pain.Memories of last night crawl back to the forefront of my mind while I sit in the hot sun. Last night, a storm of epic proportions rolled over the property, leaving destruction in its wake. I rise from bed and walk to the window, seeing Curtis on the back lawn cleaning up branches and debris.Deep puddles glisten in the sunlight–and beyond the yard?The marsh is lost beneath a thick layer of fog, l
LaylaBailey pulls me upright. My legs shake as she guides me to a dusty couch and sits me down, her hands on either side of my face. “God, you’re covered in glass–”“I’m fine,” I choke out, but tears sting my eyes as she lovingly reaches up to pick shards of glass from my hair, collecting them in her open palm.“What happened?”“A–a bird–” I swallow the words, my throat burning over each syllable. My throat aches and my skin burns where the doctor licked my neck.Bile rises in my throat at the memory, heightened by the taste of his blood lingering in my mouth. I press my hands to my lips, gagging. Bailey starts, looking wildly around for something for me to throw up in before gripping me hard and dragging me to the small half-bathroom just off the foyer where I throw up in the toilet.A few minutes later, I’m sitting at the ki
DaltonCold water cascades from my hands. The water flows down the sink in crimson ribbons.Out the kitchen window, night has fallen. Lightning flashes in the distance, but tonight’s storm passes the house without much drama. Rain showers over the landscaped backyard in gentle sheets of silver illuminated by the porch light.I shake my wet hands in the sink, reaching for a towel. My brushes are laid out on the counter, all of them clean and glistening in the light coming from a lamp near the kitchen table.I gather my brushes and turn, the glint of metal catching my eye.A butcher knife rests in the dish rack, freshly sharpened.It’s the only thing in the dish rack. Both Bailey and Layla keep the kitchen spotless and would have noticed a knife being left out. I reach for it and pull it off the rack just as Layla walks into the kitchen.Dressed in pale blue scrubs with her hair pu
LaylaThere isn’t much that can scare me. Maybe that’s why I became a nurse. Maybe that’s why I didn’t balk at the idea of spending a summer in an entirely creepy, and no doubt haunted, French Colonial style mansion smack dab in the center of a swamp, cypress lined property in Hahnville, Louisiana. I’ve seen scarier places. I’ve walked the haunted halls of hospitals all over the country during my four years of being a travel nurse. I’ve seen things in emergency rooms that would make someone’s nightmares look and sound like child's play. This place doesn’t scare me. Although, maybe it should. Mom’s voice rattles in my ear as she pleads, “Layla, seriously, you can turn around and come home!”“I already signed the paperwork,” I say with a sigh, narrowing my eyes at the gargantuan structure looming in the distant haze of summer. Overhead, cypress trees hang with vines that dust the top of my Toyota 4-Runner, the only major purchase I’ve ever made in my life. Before this moment, I’d b
LaylaAunt Penny could be mistaken for a child from a distance. The top of her silver hair barely reaches my sternum as she rests in her bed, and I’m not a tall woman, by any means. She’s definitely not the withered old crone I expected, not with her dainty, childlike features and huge, blue eyes. I’ve never even seen a picture of her before. In truth, I could count on one hand the number of times her name had been brought up in conversation. I’m not sure what I imagined her to look like. All I had to go off were stories about this place and this specific family line. But her brow isn’t perpetually pinched. Her nose isn’t long and gnarled and covered with warts. Her fingernails can’t scratch my eyes out, and I doubt she had a cauldron hidden somewhere in the house where she boiled potions. She doesn’t look like the witch my family made her out to be. It makes me sad, honestly, seeing her lying motionless in the massive four-poster bed. It swallows her tiny body whole, making her l
LaylaBailey dumps an assortment of pastries on a serving platter in the humid, sun drenched kitchen. I lean on the counter and take a sip of my iced latte, praying the caffeine will hit my system and thaw the numbness still gripping my body. Whatever happened earlier this morning still has me in somewhat of a trance. I can’t shake the feeling I hadn’t been alone in that upstairs hallway, and especially that I hadn’t been alone in my room. “You’re holding that coffee like it’s a weapon.” Bailey giggles, rolling her eyes as she picks up the platter and sets it on the kitchen table. “Are you okay?”“I didn’t sleep well at all,” I admit, blinking into the unforgiving sunlight. God, it’s hot. It’s not even 8:00 in the morning. and the entire room is already suffocating with heat. I press the plastic cup to my temple and sigh with relief. Bailey watches me curiously for a moment then shrugs. “You should go get some rest, then. You’re the night nurse, remember? You should really be getti