Chapter 26
26
LAYLA
F inishing the last bite of my sandwich, I carefully fold today’s newspaper to the rental section and sling my purse up my shoulder.
Usually, I make sure to pack my lunch for work. But today, I decided to treat myself at the coffee shop across the street from Hammers and Hardware. With all the tension that’s been hovering over the hardware store lately, I was eager to escape at lunchtime to clear my head.
I’ve been on a strict budget over the past few weeks, but Mrs. Brighton was right. I can reward myself with small luxuries even though my life isn’t entirely in order. And today, I really needed a little pick me up.
I’ve dragged my feet on this house hunting thing for too long. I know that Archer gave me 90 days to get back on my feet but I feel like I need to find a new home for my son and me sooner than later. I need to get out of this unhealthy fantasyland I’ve been living in and focus on building our future. So I used my lunch break to browse the local property listings as I ate.
The whole thing with Archer—living in his house, pretending to be his girlfriend—it was all fun and games for a while. But after what happened in his kitchen the other night, it’s too heavy, too painful. Everything is hopelessly complicated.
Now, I’m ready for all this to just be over. I’m ready to go back to being Archer’s younger sister’s best friend and nothing more.
But all the rental options around town are painfully out of my budget. Now, I’m searching my brain for ways to make some extra cash. Maybe I need a second job. Maybe an online gig I can work on after Sky goes to bed at night. I’ll have to figure it out.
Gosh—I’m so damn tired of always having to figure everything out.
I say hello to familiar faces as I wade my way through the small midday crowd here at Jittery Joe’s. I wear my brightest smile the whole time. My neighbors smile back.
No-one can tell that, as I exit the coffee shop and walk toward the intersection, I’m busy trying not to have an anxiety attack.
Maybe that’s why I don’t see him coming.
“Layla!”
When I hear Razor bark my name, my blood runs cold.
My head shoots up. My knees momentarily wobble on the icy sidewalk when I see my ex charging toward me where I’m standing at the red light. Can I catch a break?
“What do you want, Ansel?” I say. I clutch the strap of my purse and try to look unbothered as I stroll past him once the light is green.
“I want to see my son,” he announces, stomping after me.
My stomach clenches with shock— oh shit! —because that’s about the last thing I’d expect Razor to say.
I try to keep my voice level, not wanting to give him a reaction. “Since when are you interested in your son?” He hasn’t expressed any desire to see Sky at any point over the past year and a half. Why now?
“Janet thinks we should start babysitting him. As practice for when our own kid is born.”
The horror I feel when he says that almost knocks me flat on my ass.
A switch flips inside me, instantly causing my blood to boil. I turn to face him, seeing red. “Janet?!” I spit out. “I don’t want that woman anywhere near my child.”
“I don’t exactly care what you want, love bug.” Razor seethes, his stained teeth gritted. “I want to see my son and I’m going to see my son.”
I turn and barrel down the sidewalk. “Sky’s not a crash-test dummy, you asshole,” I screech, grabbing the attention of a group of giggly high schoolers who appear to be on lunch break. I pick up my pace. I just need this conversation to be over.
Razor growls from somewhere behind me. “I have rights. I have the right to see my son.”
I’m shaking in my boots as the hardware store’s front door comes into view. “Why don’t we have a judge determine that?” I toss over my shoulder.
Razor grabs my upper arm, whirling me around to face him. “I’ve let you run around this town doing whatever the fuck you want for long enough, Layla. It’s time for you to do as I say.”
It took some soul-searching, but now I realize that I didn’t really love Razor. I was just with him because I thought there was no other option for me.
Now, I’m strong enough to know that I don’t need a man.And I definitely don’t need a man-child like Razor in my life.I’d rather stay single forever. Even if my cooch does wilt up like a head of lettuce or whatever it is Rainbow said.
“I don’t have to do a damn thing,” I retort, my voice raising an octave or two as I jerk my arm out of his grasp.
“It’s about time I remind you who’s in charge here. You had my kid. You are mine. You always will be—” Razor’s threats cut off suddenly, his eyes widening. I follow his gaze as he peers inside the hardware store.
I catch sight of Archer where he’s helping a customer in the plumbing section of the shop. His wide back is turned to the window and he hasn’t seen us yet. Thank god, because it would be instant drama right here on this sidewalk.
Even still, knowing that my best friend’s brother is right behind that window already has me feeling less afraid.
Until I remember—I don’t rely on Archer in that way anymore. I stand on my own two feet now.
I don’t want Archer to see this confrontation with Razor. I don’t want him to think he has to save me. I need to get rid of Razor. Fast.
But when I turn around, I find my son’s father already shrinking away. “I hear you’re fucking your boss to keep a roof over your head these days. Real classy.”
A strangled sound flies out of my mouth and I slap a palm across my lips to suppress it. Is that what people think is happening between Archer and me? They think I’m fucking him for a place to live? I’m horrified.
“Sex. That’s all it is, Layla. That’s all he’d ever want from you. You realize that, right? A guy like Brighton—he doesn’t actually want anything serious with trash like you. No one does.”
Another sob shakes its way up my chest but I refuse to fall apart. “You are scum, Ansel. Making comments like that. Especially after you kicked me out on the street with your child.” I straighten my shoulders as best I can. “I’m done talking to you. If you don’t stay the fuck away from me, I’ll make a friendly call to the deputy. I’m sure they’d love another mugshot of your ugly face in the system.”
He bares his stained teeth, leaving me with one final threat. “Fuck off, Layla. You’d better think long and hard about pissing me off. Because the next time I come back for you, I won’t be so nice.”
A chill runs through me as Razor throws a parting glance at the hardware store. Then he takes off down the sidewalk, a quickness in his steps.
I stand there, blocking the doorway, shivering, head swimming as I replay the whole conversation. Forget all the insults he just hurled at me. The scariest part is that Razor wants Sky. He wants to get his hands on my baby. For Janet’s sake .
A million terrifying thoughts flash through my mind. I have no idea how I’m going to stop him. All I know is, I can’t let any of this happen.
I hear the hardware store door open behind me. I spin around to find Archer there, eyebrows furrowed, staring at me.
He steps out onto the sidewalk, concern on his handsome face as he marches right into my personal space. “Layla? Did something happen? Are you okay?”
Looks like he didn’t see my ex out here, harassing me. Thank god. My sanity is hanging on by a thread here. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with an Archer-Razor showdown right now.
When I blank out, my handsome boss reaches for me, giving my right forearm a soft squeeze. His touch feels so comforting. So safe. So different from Razor’s.
For one half of a second, I allow myself to melt into the tenderness of his stare.
But then I forcefully remind myself of what happened the other night. The way he rejected me. The memory pierces my heart like a harpoon. This is the same man who lit me on fire, and then left me to burn.
Archer doesn’t see me the way I want him to see me. He doesn’t see me like a woman he desires, a woman he wants, a woman who deserves him. He sees me as a pathetic case. As someone who can’t take care of herself. It’s time I have a little pride.
“I’m fine, Archer. You don’t have to concern yourself about me.” I shrink out of his reach. “Excuse me. I have some boxes to open in the back.”
Head held high, I get back to work.