Layla
. . .
Araw, guttural scream escapes me before I even realize it’s happening.
The nightmare has been the same every night—his hand around my throat, his fist connecting with my face, and the hiss of his voice in my ear, whispering obscenities in my ear, all while he was threatening me.
Reed’s voice cuts through the darkness as his footsteps thunder down the hall. He appears instantly, barefoot and half-dressed, eyes wide and wild, pausing in the doorway, hesitating, unsure whether he can come near me.
My chest heaves as I sit upright in bed, the blanket tangled around my legs as my hands clutch my throat.
It feels like I can’t breathe; I claw at my throat, struggling for air as the ghost of Brian’s hands squeeze around my neck.
“Hey, hey, sunshine,” he says quietly, his tone shifting from alarm to gentleness in a breath. He lifts his hands slightly, palms out. “You’re okay. You’re safe. It’s me.”
I shake my head, struggling to hold back a sob. “He was here, Reed—he—”
He takes a slow step forward. “No one’s here, baby. I checked the locks before I went to bed. You’re safe, Layla.”
I can’t stop trembling. My entire body shakes as if it’s about to fall apart.
He lingers by the door for a moment longer before crouching down low, his voice soft and gentle. “You want me to come closer?”
I nod quickly, tears spilling over.
He crosses the room in two quick steps. The mattress dips when he sits on the edge, close but not touching. “You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re just dreamin’. Look at me, baby.”
I force my gaze upward. His hair’s a mess, sticking up in every direction as his chest rises quickly. His hands are trembling too, but his steady, green eyes hold me there.
My voice cracks. “It felt real.”
He nods, his throat working. “I know. It’s gonna feel that way for a while.” His voice catches, softer now. “You’ve been through too damn much.”
I press my hand to my chest, trying to slow the pounding rhythm against my ribs. “I can’t—I keep seeing him. I can’t make him stop.”
He exhales shakily, running a hand through his hair. “I know, baby, but you’re safe here, I promise.”
I wipe my face, the words barely coming out. “What if he comes here? The letters, the ones I left, they had your address.”
He shifts a little closer, still giving me space. “He’d never make it past my property line, Layla. I’ll make sure of it.”
My lip trembles. “I don’t feel safe.”
His expression softens, and his voice becomes gentler. “Then I’ll stay right here until you do.”
I blink up at him, exhausted. “You don’t have to—”
“Not leavin’ you like this,” he says firmly, shaking his head. He leans forward slightly, his elbows on his knees. “Not tonight.”
I take a shaky breath. “Can you just talk? Please?”
He nods, clearing his throat, his eyes glancing to the window before returning to me. “Well,” he murmurs, “you’ve successfully scared the shit outta me. Thought someone broke in.”
A faint laugh escapes me, more air than sound. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he says softly, his mouth twitching into the faintest smile. “I’m just glad you scream loud enough to wake the dead. Means I’ll always hear you.”
My lip curves, just barely.
He grunts, looking away for a second, his jaw flexing before his voice drops low again. “Layla… you’re safe now, you hear me? He ain’t ever touchin’ you again.”
I nod, but my shoulders tremble. “It doesn’t feel over.”
He swallows, his eyes shining in the dark. “I know.” He pauses, then softly asks, “Can I—?” He makes a faint gesture toward me.
My voice cracks. “Yeah.”
He moves slowly, carefully, sitting beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, it’s light, tentative, giving me space to pull away if I want to.
I don’t as I lean in, pressing my forehead to his chest, the soft cotton of his shirt damp beneath my cheek from tears.
His hand gently circles against my arm. “Breathe with me, sunshine,” he says, taking in a breath of his own, coaching me. “In and out. That’s it. You’re here. Not there.”
My breath finally evens out against him, and my body feels heavy with exhaustion.
“You did good gettin’ out,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “You’re stronger than you think.”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” I whisper.
He doesn’t respond as he presses me tighter against his chest.
Silence falls around us; just our breathing, filling up the space.
The fear still lingers, but it’s quieter now, softened by his voice and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear.
For the first time in years, I let myself believe that maybe he’s right.
Maybe I really am safe.
“Mornin’, sunshine.”
My gaze moves toward the doorway, and I spot Reed, barefoot, with a tray in his hands.
There’s French toast, powdered sugar dusted over it, a side of strawberries, and an iced coffee packed with ice. He gives me a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You brought me breakfast?” I whisper, my voice scratchy.
He nods. “Yeah, and I made it myself,” he says jokingly.
I almost smile, but it fades too quickly, my throat tightening. “I’m not really hungry.”
He places the tray on the nightstand, moving towards me cautiously before sitting gently on the edge of the bed. The mattress sinks under his weight, and the clink of the plate against the wood fills the quiet.
“I know,” he says softly. “But you need to eat, baby.”
The way he says ‘baby’ with his Southern drawl makes something in me ache.
“I just…” My voice trails off. “I can’t make myself move.”
He exhales slowly, nodding as if he understands, because he does. He’s never pushed me, not once.
“Alright,” he says after a moment. “Then we’ll do it together.”
He reaches out slowly, waiting until I nod, before his hand touches my arm. He helps me sit up, fixing the pillow behind my back.
“There we go,” he murmurs. “See? Not so bad.”
He adjusts his glasses, then cuts a piece of French toast into smaller bites, holding it out to me. “Just start with this.”
It’s ridiculous being fed like this, but I don’t stop him. I open my mouth and take a small bite.
“There you go,” he says, voice gentle but relieved. “You’re doin’ good, sunshine.”
My throat burns as I swallow. “You don’t have to take care of me like this.”
He gives a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, baby, I do.”
That’s what breaks me down. The tears come quickly, initially silent, then grow stronger until my breath catches.
“Hey, hey,” he whispers, setting the plate down and moving closer, but not too close. “Talk to me, baby.”
“I just—” I press a trembling hand over my face. “I need my girls. I need to tell them everything. I can’t hold it in anymore.”
He nods slowly, his eyes gentle. “Then we’ll call ‘em, alright?”
I nod, wiping at my eyes. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Start wherever you need to. They love you. They’ll listen.”
He reaches out again, softly brushing his thumb across my cheek, catching a tear before it falls. “You don’t gotta do it alone anymore, sunshine.”
I nod again, a broken sound escaping my throat as I lean forward, just enough for my forehead to rest against his shoulder.
He remains still, his hand lightly resting on my back as the other is steady on the blanket beside me.
I feel something that nearly resembles hope.
He doesn’t move immediately as he stays still, his hand steady against my back while I try to calm my breathing. My tears slow down, but the heaviness doesn’t go away.
He pulls back slightly, enough to look at me. “You want me to call them for you?”
I sniff, nodding. “Yeah. I can’t—I don’t think I can talk yet.”
“Alright, baby,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
He stands and reaches for his phone on the nightstand, the mattress creaking as he moves.
His thumb swipes across the screen, and for a moment, the faint ring fills the room. I watch him pace near the window, sunlight spilling over his shoulder and bathing him in soft gold.
It takes three rings before someone answers.
“Hey, Cat,” he says softly, his tone shifts, but with an undercurrent that makes my stomach churn.
A pause. Catalina must have said something, because his jaw tightens, but he keeps his voice gentle. “Layla’s here.” He glances back at me, eyes soft.
I can’t hear what Catalina is saying, but I can picture the sharp inhale, the way she probably presses her hand to her chest. She’s always felt things too deeply.
Reed nods slowly. “Yeah. You, Amelia, Mav, and Carter. Just get here, alright? She needs you.”
There’s a pause again. His thumb moves over his bottom lip as he listens. “Yeah, Cat. She’s okay. But… she needs her girls right now.”
I close my eyes, swallowing hard.
My girls.
Catalina’s fiery warmth. Amelia’s quiet steadiness. The kind of love that doesn’t ask or judge. Just shows up.
“Alright,” Reed finally says, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper. “We’ll see y’all soon.”
Ending the call, he gently places his phone on the dresser. For a moment, he doesn’t turn around, just stands there with tense shoulders, breathing slowly.
He turns slowly, his eyes meeting mine. “They’re on their way.”
My throat tightens again, but nothing escapes my lips as quiet sobs wrack through my body.
He crosses the room, crouching down to be at my eye level, his hand hovers before gently resting on my knee. “You did the right thing, sunshine. You don’t have to face this alone anymore.”
Tears blur my vision. “What will they think when they see me like this?”
He tilts his head slightly, voice quiet but certain. “They’ll see a woman who got out. A woman who’s still standin’. That’s what they’ll see.”
Something in me opens up again, but this time, it’s not from fear. It’s relief.
He gently squeezes my knee, then stands, brushing his palms on his jeans. “I’ll get some more coffee going. They’ll be here soon.”
I watch him walk out of the bedroom, into the narrow hallway, and into the kitchen, hearing the sound of him opening the cabinets and glass clinking as he starts the coffee pot.
My girls will be here soon, and finally, I’ll tell them everything.
About five minutes later, the muffled sound of engines breaks the morning silence, followed by the closing of doors and quiet voices outside.
I haven’t moved from the bed since Reed left the room to make coffee.
The front door opens with a familiar creak that echoes down the hallway. I hear quick footsteps scatter into his home, and frantic voices are muffled by the walls.
“Where is she?” Catalina’s voice I recognize first, laced with panic.
Reed’s quiet response comes, steady but weary. “Bedroom. She’s resting.”
The floorboards creak closer and closer until the doorway is filled with soft light and familiar faces.
Catalina stops first, her chestnut eyes widening the moment she sees me sitting against the headboard.
She’s wrapped in Carter’s enormous hoodie, her hair’s tangled, and her eyes are swollen from crying as she gently touches her small baby bump.
Her eyes flick from the bruises starting to heal, and she lets out a sharp gasp.
“Oh, baby,” she whispers. Her voice cracks as she crosses the room and drops onto the mattress beside me before I can even process it.
The bed dips under her weight, then she’s holding me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
“Cat—” I start, but my voice breaks on the first word.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she says quickly, her breath shaky against my hair. “You don’t owe us an explanation. You’re safe now, that’s all that matters.”
The scent of her lavender-and-vanilla perfume hits me, and it’s enough to finally break me open. The tears come suddenly and silently, and my body trembles as I clutch the front of her hoodie.
Amelia steps forward next, quiet as usual.
She kneels by the bed, her hand brushing my leg, then gently wrapping around my wrist. Her eyes shine, but her voice remains soft and steady. “We’re here, babe. We’re right here.”
I can’t stop trembling. “I—I didn’t know what to do,” I whisper, my words spilling out between gasps. “I thought maybe he’d change, that, ma-maybe he’d be different, but he just got worse.”
Amelia’s grip tightens on my wrist. “They always say they’re going to change,” she says softly. “They promise things will get better, but as soon as they get mad, they blame anyone but themselves. It’s not your fault, Layla. None of this is.”
Behind them, Maverick lingers in the doorway, shoulders tense, jaw clenched. He’s not his usual loud, chaotic self. His voice is calm as he asks, “You okay, sugar?”
I give him a small nod, tears forming in my eyes.
Carter steps in beside him, his expression grim yet gentle. “You’re safe here. We’ll make damn sure that fucker doesn’t get anywhere near you.”
Reed finally walks over and stands next to Carter, watching everything with red-rimmed eyes. He’s trying to stay steady, but I can see the tension in his shoulders and the way his hands keep flexing open and closed.
Catalina finally pulls back just enough to look at me, brushing the hair from my face. “You want to sit up, baby? You look pale.”
I nod feebly, and Reed steps forward quietly.
He adjusts the pillows behind me, being careful not to touch too much. The mattress dips slightly as he helps lift me upright, his arm steady at my back but never pressing.
“Easy,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re okay.”
I look up at him through tears, my chest twisting. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “For bringing all this here.”
Reed shakes his head instantly. “Don’t you dare apologize, sunshine. You didn’t bring this. He did.”
Catalina wipes her eyes and looks toward the boys. “Coffee,” she says, her voice shaking but determined.
Amelia nods and stands up slowly. “And something to eat. I’ll help.”
As they leave, Reed sinks back onto the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees. “You did the right thing, baby,” he says softly. “You did the right thing comin’ here.”
Catalina gives Reed a curious look after he just called me “baby,” then smirks, staying seated beside me, rubbing small circles into my back while whispering soft reassurances as the others move around the house.
Being surrounded by them, by their warmth and quiet presence, I feel something close to steady.
And when I glance over at Reed, his eyes already on me, I realize he’s the reason I made it out at all.