Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Layla
I t’s my birthday, and I’ll die if I want to.
My test results were back, and I’d not only tested positive for the flu, but I also had strep throat and a chest infection on top of it. Fucking yay!
Curling into a ball on the couch, I snuggled Zeus and pulled the blanket up to cover both of us.
“Dad, just apologize to her,” Cole demanded as he glared at him.
“I don’t need to apologize for anything. I adopted those puppies, knowing full well that she’d fall in love instantly.” Dad tilted his chin up, looking defiantly back at my brother. “Then she told me to stay on the couch until she’d fed them and gotten snuggles so she could ream my ass.”
Whose parents used the term ‘ream my ass?’ Mine, that’s who.
My brother looked as grossed out as I was about it. Sometimes, things just brought on vivid mental images, and when it involved your parents, that wasn’t a bueno headspace to be in.
“So, she likes the dogs?” Cole checked, steering clear of ‘reaming.’
“Loved ‘em, which is why I refuse to get shit when she’s happy about them being ours.”
I closed my eyes and tuned them out, hoping I could grab a quick nap. The problem was that the tickle in my throat was starting to burn.
“Cole, could you get me the Tylenol and ibuprofen? They’re on the counter in my bathroom.”
He got up out of his seat without acknowledging the request and went to the stairs and—hopefully—up to my room.
“Shame you finished the kids' stuff,” Dad muttered, picking up the remote and channel surfing. “I’ve got a headache coming on, and that shit tasted awesome.”
He wasn’t lying. Why drug companies didn’t make more things flavored like kids' medicine was, I didn’t know. If they made them grape, banana, or bubble gum flavored, fewer people would forget to take doses or have an issue with pills. As it was, I was still struggling to swallow, so I was dreading taking the ones I’d asked Cole to get me, but I had to.
A flashback of me sitting up and spitting out pills while Mark watched hit me, but that couldn’t be right, could it? When would I have spat out— Ohhh .
Seriously, why hadn’t he demanded a divorce by this point? Cheese on the head, flour in the hair, arresting my brother, and me spitting pills as far across the room as I could because my throat hurt too much to swallow them were just the tip of my crimes against attractiveness.
“Did you hear that?” Dad asked, muting the television and looking around the room.
“No, what was it?”
“Shh, I’m waiting to see if it happens again.”
At that moment, the faint sound of someone cursing came from upstairs.
“What’s the boy done now?” he sighed, getting up off the couch and moving to the bottom of the stairs. “Cole, what’s wrong?”
The floorboards creaked slightly above where I was lying, and then he was at the top of the stairs, glaring at Dad.
“You know those stupid bottles they put the pills in? Well, they’ve got one of those impossible childproof locks on them. I pressed down like it told me to and tried to open it, but nothing happened, so I threw them at the wall to open it like the guy online said to do when I Googled it.”
“Why didn’t you just shout out that you needed a hand or bring them downstairs, genius?”
I could make out my brother’s footsteps on the stairs as he headed back down them.
“Because I was trying to do something nice for my sister.” He crouched down in front of me and looked apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I’ll find you something to take, okay?”
“Just pick the pills up off the floor. It’s clean, so I’m not worried about the five second rule,” I mumbled, feeling my throat and head burning even more now as the pills I’d taken four hours earlier wore off.
He cursed under his breath. “They didn’t fall on the floor. The open bottles fell into the toilet.”
Dad made his way back to the couch and sat down with a groan like he’d been doing yard work for hours. “How’d you manage to get both of them to open at the same time when you couldn’t even open one, to begin with?”
Cole stood up and threw his arms in the air. “Like I know the answer to that, Dad. Seriously, do you remember who you’re talking to? Shit like that happens all the time to me, and I can never explain it.”
He had a point.
Not that I’d say anything, especially with how shitty I was feeling now.
“Cole, I don’t feel good.” I could barely get the words out, and even those five said in a whisper made my eyes water.
My poor brother panicked and pulled his phone out. Ever since I could remember, if I even shed one tear, my brothers would freak the hell out. That’s likely why I didn’t cry that often, because watching them when they lost it and tried to fix whatever was upsetting me usually made the problem worse. At least they cared, though. Bless their ‘thpecial’ hearts.
“Gramps, is Grams there? Shit, okay, do you have any Tylenol or painkillers like that we could give to Layla?” He chewed on his lower lip while he listened to what Gramps was saying.
“And they’re like Tylenol? Awesome. No, she didn’t forget, but the others had a…” he shot a glare over at Dad, who was laughing silently, “…an accident.”
Dad got up and took the phone out of Cole’s hand. “Yeah, Dad, he threw the bottles at the wall because he couldn’t open them, and they fell into the toilet. No, they opened when they hit the tiles. Right. Right? Right.”
He’d said the word three times in a row, but each time Dad changed the tone he said it in, giving it a different meaning. For some reason, that struck me as pretty cool, but that could be because I felt like shit.
“Ten bucks says they’re calling me a dumbass,” Cole whispered, his eyes on Dad’s back as he held his hand out.
Weakly pushing it away, I pulled the blanket up higher on my shoulder. “I’m not taking that bet because they’re totally calling you a dumbass.”
Hearing my voice was even raspier, his eyes widened, and he disappeared out of sight. Charming! Only a couple of minutes later, he was back with a glass of orange juice with ice floating in it.
“Drink some of this for me, Lala. You’re starting to sound like Marge Simpson.”
Weakly resting on my elbow, I accepted the glass and took a sip of the juice. Big mistake— huge .
“Oh, shit. That burns like acid,” I gasped, pushing the glass back toward him.
“Damn it, I’m sorry.” The poor guy looked so frustrated as he turned and barked over his shoulder, “Where is he with those painkillers? She’s in pain.”
Dad spun around and asked Gramps to hurry up before he hung up. “What can I do to help you, Layla? What do you need?”
“Water, please. Freezing cold water.”
Dad had managed to get someone out to fix my freezer yesterday, so I had ice once again, and there were no words to describe how grateful I was about that.
By the time Gramps arrived, panting like he’d run a 10K marathon instead of from his truck to the front door of my house, my eyes had stopped watering, and I’d experienced the sweet relief that a glassful of ice with water poured over it provided. It was heaven.
“Okay, these are from when your grandmother had that operation on her foot a couple of months back. It says you can take two every four hours, but don’t exceed eight.”
He glared down at the pill bottle. “What fucked up kind of math is that? There are twenty-four hours in a day. Why can you only take these for sixteen of them? What if you wake up in the night in pain?”
Cole held his hand out for the bottle, but Dad took it instead, shooting him a look. That was probably a good idea, given what’d happened with the bottles the last time he’d tried to get them for me. If I had to wait for us to find someone else to bring painkillers, I might literally die an agonizing death before they got here.
“Here you go, honey.” Dad held two out to me. “They’ll make you feel better soon.”
Gramps made himself comfortable and pulled the leaver to extend the footrest out of the bottom of the recliner. “Now that I’m here may as well take a load off and have a break.”
Cole looked confused. “What have you been doing today that you need to take a break?”
Oh, there were so many possible answers to that question that’d likely scar us all if he said half of them.
Popping the pills in my mouth and taking a large gulp of water, I laid back down and discreetly covered my ears. I didn’t need to know one of the scarring answers. Sure, it could be a mayoral duty, but Gramps loved to wind my brothers and Dad up, so he deliberately did it as often as he could.
I felt my limbs get heavier within a few minutes, and then I was dragged under. Usually Tylenol didn’t work on me that quickly or that well, but I guess with a list of things wrong with me, my body was that bit more sensitive.
Aces!
Mark
I leaned into the car to get the bags and flowers out for Layla’s birthday. Given that she wasn’t well on her birthday—something which had happened to me as a kid—so I’d decided to get some other things to spoil her with.
“Make her stop!” someone bellowed from inside the house, and the slow walking I’d been doing up the stairs to the porch turned into a jump and a sprint to the front door.
“What did you give her? I said Tylenol and ibuprofen, not whatever this is.”
Pushing the door open, I took in the scene in front of me. There was toilet paper spread out around the place like someone had been running around with a roll of it.
The television had a crack through the screen, making half of it just a bright colored splotch as whatever they’d been watching continued to play on the other half. Hay and sawdust were scattered everywhere, and the three men—Cole, Jack, and Hurst—were covered in it as they stared at something in front of them.
Following where they were looking, I saw feet sticking out the end of the couch, which had been tipped over onto its side.
Closing the door, I asked slowly, “What’s going on?”
All three men looked at me with relief.
“Thank God you’re back,” Hurst cried, trying to make his way toward me and jerking to a halt when Cole caught him by this shirt. “Let go of me. He’s married to this disaster, so he gets to sit through this shit.”
“There wouldn’t be any shit to sit through if it wasn’t for you,” Cole seethed.
Jack just looked like he was going to cry. “It’s terrible.”
That worried me enough to drop everything and run over to where I could see the feet. “Did she get crushed when it tipped over? Layla? Baby, I’m going to lift it off you. Just stay still, and we’ll get you out of there.”
“Man, what are you talking about?” Cole asked, pointing at the television behind him. “The last time we tried to do that, she threw one of your dog’s toys at us.”
Well, that explained the television.
“She started off as Batman, then decided she was a rabbit like that big bastard in the pantry,” Hurst snapped. “We’ve been toilet papered, and then we had to feed her carrots while she hopped around on her hands and knees.”
“At least she didn’t poop on the floor,” Cole pointed out, shooting his grandad a dirty look.
Hurst threw his hands in the air. “Well, thank shit for small mercies then, right? Like it wasn’t bad enough that she almost garroted me with a wet sheet and then spat mouthfuls of chewed carrot at me.”
“I’m of the opinion her taking a dump on the ground and being too out of her mind to clean it up herself would be worse than that,” Cole offered. “What if the dog ran through it?”
“Where is the dog?” I asked, turning around to see if I could see him anywhere.
Jack said nothing but pointed at the front of his hoodie.
“Is your stomach moving?”
He nodded and pulled the zipper down just enough for a little head to poke out over the top. At least Zeus was safe from whatever was going on in here.
Seeing as how Cole seemed to be the most lucid one for once, I asked him, “What’s going on? Is the fever making Layla act weird? Have y’all called a doctor?”
Cole glared at Hurst. “What’s going on is that this guy gave her painkillers, and now she thinks she’s a cross between Batman and a rabbit. What we’ve got is the Energizer bunny from hell, who turned this place over in five minutes flat with some toilet paper, a couple of pushes on the couch, and five carrots.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Please tell me Layla hasn’t developed a sensitivity to medications like you have.”
“What? No, but when you give her painkillers that were prescribed after someone had surgery on their foot, that’s when the freaky shit apparently starts happening.”
Jack cleared his throat. “Th-the doctor said it was probably because she’s so ru-run d-down and they’re…” he choked on whatever he was going to say.
Looking at Cole to explain it, he shoved his hand into the hair on the top of his head. “Man, she’s been sick for a few days, and her body’s fighting a lot. Add that onto antibiotics and painkillers for surgery on a fused big toe, and you’ve got a hot mess express running around.”
His cheeks went pink, and he shuffled slightly. “And maybe Layla’s a bit sensitive to the strong drugs, and we didn’t know it.” Glaring at his dad, he muttered, “And he’s all freaked out because she’s scary as fuck right now.”
Aaaand wasn’t that just fucking peachy.
“Why didn’t she just take the Tylenol and ibuprofen I got for her or the kids’ stuff your mom dropped off on Sunday?”
He gave me a tired look. “She finished the kids’ shit, and I accidentally knocked the other stuff into the toilet.”
I blinked. “And no one out of all of the family members you have close has normal meds you could have given her? None of you keep a stock of it just in case you need it?”
He winced. “More than likely, but I knew Gramps was home, so I called him and specifically asked for normal stuff because she was about to start crying and needed it ASAP. He said what he brought was the normal stuff, but now we know it isn’t.”
“ I’m hungreeeee! ” Layla sang from under the couch.
Her voice was still raw sounding, but she managed to hit the higher notes without sounding too much like a pubescent boy, which gave me hope.
“Ah, shit!” Hurst groaned, taking a step toward the door again.
“You leave this house, old man, and I swear I’ll find your most embarrassing secret and air it for the world,” Cole threatened.
Jack had finally snapped out of his stupor and was glaring at his dad now. “I won’t protect you from any of it or from Colette and Mom.”
I leaned into Cole’s side and whispered, “Why does he need protecting from them?”
“They were planning to surprise Layla for her birthday, but that’s been canceled because she’s out of her damn mind. They’re also pissed he gave her prescription meds without even looking them up first.”
Fair enough.
The couch flipped up, surprising all of us, and then Layla rolled out from under it, only narrowly missing having her leg crushed when it dropped back down to the floor with a bang.
She was wearing a pair of SpongeBob pajamas, one matching sock, and had half of her hair up in a ponytail at the very top of her head.
“ I’m Batman ,” she rasped, looking around like someone was going to jump out.
“Hey, baby,” I said softly as I went over to where I’d dropped everything when I’d first come in. “I brought you some things for your birthday.”
“Carrots?”
“No, there aren’t any of those in here, but I can get you one from the kitchen.”
“Make sure you have an umbrella,” Hurst muttered loud enough for me to hear.
I held out the bunch of sunflowers—Layla’s favorite flower—for her. Instead of taking them from me, she opened her mouth and leaned in close to them, almost taking a bite out of one before I pulled them away.
“You can’t eat them, pretty girl. Tell you what, why don’t I put you in bed, and you can open your presents later after you’ve had a nap?”
Holding her arm in the air, she let out what was meant to be a shriek, but with how sore her throat was, it was only high-pitched squeaks here and there that made us all wince.
“Layla, just—”
She turned around to run, just as Hurst yelled, “Catch her!”
“ I’m Batman !”
I managed to grab her just as she flew past me and picked her up.
“I’m going to go and put her to bed to sleep this off.”
“I’ll go and get her some proper painkillers from the store,” Cole said, walking quickly over to the door.
Unwilling to be around for more of the insanity, both Jack and Hurst followed behind him.
“We’ll get her some Gatorade while we’re out,” Jack offered, glancing quickly at her like he was afraid to make prolonged eye contact with Layla.
Rolling my eyes, I took her up the stairs and into her bedroom. As soon as her feet slid to the floor, she smiled widely up at me.
“I love you, hubbubala. And I love your penis, too. They just don’t make penises like yours in the stores.”
What the hell was I meant to say to that?
It turns out the answer to that was nothing because she suddenly dropped to her knees on the floor and tugged down the waistband of the sweatpants I’d changed into after work.
“Layla, we don—” I cut off on a gasp as she wrapped her hand firmly around my cock. “Jesus.”
“Yum!”
Glancing down, I saw her staring at it and licking her lips. Before I could stop her, she swooped forward and took a third of it into her mouth, sucking hard the second she had it in there.
She’d caught me just as we came into her bedroom, so the door was still slightly open, and if her dad or brother came back, they’d be able to hear everything. That issue was fixed as my arm snapped out to grab onto the wall to balance me, hitting the door in the process and closing it.
“Fuck.”
“Mmhmm,” she murmured around it, the vibrations from her mouth making my eyes cross.
Using her hand to work in tandem with her mouth, she took more of me, withdrew to the tip, and did it all over again. Opening my eyes, I blindly stared at her bed, wondering how quickly I could get her on it and naked, when I blinked and saw the package of antibiotics she was taking.
“Layla, honey, when you’re better we’ll do this.”
She sucked harder, her hand tightening around the base as she glared up at me.
“I promise. I’ll spend all day naked with you, eat y— Oh, shit !”
The crazy bitch was gripping me even tighter now because I’d moved my hips slightly away from her as I tried to pull out of her mouth.
“Baby, that’s attached to my body. You’ve got to let go.”
“But I want it,” she pouted, looking up at me like some sort of weird Lolita gone wrong with her hair like it was. I didn’t even want to think about the poor SpongeBob pajamas. Some things that poor sponge shouldn’t see, and this counted as one of them.
“I swear, as soon as you feel better, we’ll finish this, Layla.” Seeing I was getting through to her, I added, “But you need to sleep for that to happen.”
Finally, she nodded and pulled away, allowing me to put my dick away to keep him out of harm's way.
And then I watched in disbelief as she bunny hopped over to her bed and crawled under the comforter, falling asleep the second she got into place.
The prospect of a lifetime of this might scare some people, but for me, it sounded like the best way to spend my life.