“Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry,” he says in a pained voice. “What happened?”
I wipe my eyes and stuff my emotions back down where it doesn’t hurt as bad. “He worked at a bank, and someone came in to rob the place. I learned later that the guy was high on something, and nothing my dad could have said to him would have talked him down off the ledge. He grabbed one of the young cashiers and held a gun to her head, demanding money. She was a young mother to a two-year-old, and my father told him if he let her go, he would take him to the safe where he could get more money than what the cashier had in her drawer. He released the girl and held the gun to my dad instead. When my dad knew she was safe, he jumped the guy and managed to get his gun out of his hand…what he didn’t expect was the knife the guy had hidden in his jacket. My dad died instantly when it pierced his gut. After that, the guy freaked out and fled. The cops found him later and arrested him.”
“Jesus, Lyla. I can’t imagine what you went through.”
“I envied that little girl for so long,” I admit quietly. “She got to keep both her parents because my dad risked his life to save her mom when I lost both that day.”
“Both?” He asks, confused. “Your mom died too?”
“She might as well have died that day. It’s like a switch went off inside her so she wouldn’t have to feel the pain. No matter how hard I tried, I could never turn it back on.”
He runs a hand roughly over his face, and I hear him take a deep breath. “You were only ten,” he says bitterly. “You should have been riding bikes and eating ice cream—instead, you were living through hell.” I meet his eyes briefly but quickly look away when I see too much in them. I’m afraid if I stare too long, I’ll never want to let go.
“Did it ever get better?” His question breaks through my thoughts.
“She learned to walk through the motions. I was the adult half the time, cleaning and making her meals. I guess that’s where I learned to cook. It was either teach myself or starve.” I give a small laugh to try to lighten the mood, but he only furrows his brow.
“I didn’t have any other family to turn to, and I was afraid if I told my teachers, they would take my mom away too, so I hid our home life from everyone. She distanced herself from her friends so much that they eventually stopped checking up on her. She could still function enough at that point to pay the bills with Dad’s life insurance money, and somehow, we got by through the years.”
I don’t know why I’m telling him all of this, but it feels good to talk to someone. It’s easy to talk to him.
“Eventually, we ran out of money and had to move into a tiny apartment. By then, I was almost sixteen and got a job to help pay the bills. I ended up having to drop out of school to take on more hours. It was a matter of survival at that point. Her mind got worse over the years, and I was working two jobs on top of caring for her and making sure she was eating and showering.” I stop my story there, not wanting to get into the rest of it.
“Where is she now?”
“She’s in a private mental facility up in Georgia right now, which is why I put up with Al. He paid me good money, and almost all the money I make goes to paying her expenses. She’s still my mother, even though I haven’t caught a glimpse of her since the day she kissed my dad goodbye. I have to believe she’s still in there, and if there is a chance she can find her way back, I want to give her the best resources to do it.”
He’s silent on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I feel fear creeping in that I may have told him too much, and he realizes I come with a lot of baggage.
“You really are the strongest person I know,” he says,breaking the silence. “Even after all you have been through, you still find it in your heart to put others' needs before yourself.
“I’m not strong, Jake,” I sigh, shaking my head against the pillow. “I did things I’m not proud of and stayed in situations that I knew weren’t good for me all because I was tired of being alone and wanted help, even if it came at the expense of myself.”
“You’re talking about him,” he says quietly. “What did he offer you?”
“A way out,” I say simply. “I don’t want to talk anymore tonight. I’ve told you things that I’ve never told anyone. If I’m being honest, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to share the rest.”
“Thank you for telling me. I know how hard that was for you, and I don’t take it lightly. Maybe you’ll be comfortable enough to tell me the rest one day. I really do want to be that safe place for you, Lyla,” he says softly. “Will you do me one more thing tonight?”
I meet his greys in the dim light, scared that I will be unable to deny this man anything. “I’ll try,” I whisper.
“Will you stay on the phone with me so I can watch you sleep?”
“You want to watch me sleep? Isn’t that a little weird?” I hide my smile against the covers, feeling giddy again.
“I like knowing you are here safe with me. I’ll sleep better if I can hear you breathing next to me.”
He weaves his way into another part of me that I’ve kept hidden as his words start to shine light in areas of my life that have been in the shadows for too long.
“Okay,” I nod. “I’ll keep my phone on.”
“Thank you,” he smiles. “Sweet dreams, Lyla.”
“You too,” I say sleepily. I snuggle deeper into the covers and watch the light from the phone play across his features until I’m finally pulled under into a deep, peaceful sleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
JAKE
