Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
Layla
I watched as my mother's tears fell silently, each drop another weight added to the crushing guilt in my chest. The steaming mugs of coffee Sarge had brought us sat untouched on the side table.
"I'm so sorry," Claudia whispered, her voice raw. "If I had known... if I had searched harder."
I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. "It wasn't your fault, Mom. You couldn't have known."
But even as the words left my lips, a part of me—that angry, wounded child I'd buried deep inside—wanted to scream at her. Why didn't you look harder? Why didn't you find me? The rational part of me knew it wasn't fair, that she had truly believed I was dead.
Claudia reached out, her hand hovering uncertainty over mine before settling on the arm of the couch instead. "When they told me you were alive, I couldn't believe it. After all these years, hearing what you've been through..." Her voice broke on a sob.
I closed my eyes, memories flashing behind my eyelids. The dank, cramped shipping container. The leering faces of men twice my age. The sickening realization that my body was no longer my own.
When I opened my eyes again, my mother was watching me with a mixture of horror and heartbreak that made my chest ache. I took a deep breath, forcing the memories back into the dark corners of my mind where they belonged.
"It wasn't all bad," I said, surprising myself with the admission. "Raul saved me, in his own way. Gave me purpose, taught me to be strong."
Claudia flinched at Raul's name, her eyes hardening. "That monster. He stole you from me, turned you into a killer."
I shook my head, feeling a sudden urge to defend the man who had shaped me into who I am. "No, Mom. Raul didn't turn me into anything. He wasn’t the one who kidnapped me. He just gave me the tools to survive in a world that had already tried to break me. He offered me the chance to leave once, and I refused. I was in too deep to ever pretend I was just some normal girl."
I reached for my coffee, needing something to do with my hands. The mug was warm against my palms, grounding me in the present. "I know it's hard to understand. Hell, sometimes I don't understand it myself. But Raul became the closest thing to a father I had."
Claudia's face crumpled, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "And what about your real father? What about me? We mourned you, Layla. We had a funeral. An empty casket, but still, we thought you were gone forever."
The mention of my father sent a jolt through me. In all the chaos of the past few days, I hadn't even thought to ask about him. "Is he..."
Claudia shook her head, her voice soft. "He passed away five years ago. Cancer."
I nodded, feeling strangely numb. The man I remembered as my father—with his booming laugh and gentle hands, was little more than a faded photograph in my mind now. His death didn't feel real, just another loss in a long line of them.
"I'm sorry," I said, the words feeling hollow and inadequate.
Claudia reached out again, this time finding the courage to take my hand in hers. Her skin was soft, unmarred by the calluses and scars that covered my own hands. "Oh, sweetheart. You have nothing to be sorry for."
I pulled away, unable to bear the tenderness in her touch. "You don't know what I've done, Mom. The people I've hurt, the lives I've taken. If you knew..."
“And I don’t need to know,” she said firmly. “All I need to know is that you’re alive, healthy, and happy.”
I huffed out a humorless laugh. “I wouldn't call myself happy, but I’m alive and healthy.” My eyes flitted to the door of the kitchen.
As if on cue, but mostly because they were probably listening in, the others began filtering back into the room.
Alex sauntered in first, his usual cocky grin firmly in place as he sprawled across an overstuffed armchair. The leather creaked beneath his weight, the sound unnaturally loud in the tense silence. River followed close behind him, his eyes connecting with mine briefly.
Sarge positioned himself near the window. His bulk blocked out most of the fading sunlight, casting the room in deeper shadow. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking incredibly intimidating. If he wanted to put my mom at ease, this wasn’t doing it.
Sarah and Gage came in last, Sarah shooting me a glare, which I met with a smirk. The bruising on her neck was darkening. Gage’s eyes met mine, and suddenly it felt like all the air in the room had been sucked out.
For a moment, I was transported back to countless nights spent tangled in cheap motel sheets during a mission, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin as he whispered wicked things to me in the dark. Of stolen moments in the little guest house, fucking on the desk or against the bookshelves.
The memory of his phone call echoed in my mind, each word etched into my brain like a tattoo. His voice had been raw, desperate as he'd laid bare the extent of his deception—and the lengths he'd gone to protect me.
But why? Why would he want to protect a criminal, regardless of these feelings between us? Surely they didn’t override years and years of training and oaths to uphold the rule of law.
My fingers twitched, itching to reach for the gun holstered at my hip. It would be so easy to end this, to put a bullet between those eyes and be done with it.
Thou shalt not suffer a narc to live .
The words were practically carved into my bones.
But I couldn't do it. Not here, not now. Not with my mother watching, her eyes wide and fearful as she took in the dangerous men surrounding us. I forced my hand to relax, plastering on a brittle smile as I turned to face her.
"Mom, these are... my associates ," I said, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "They're here to help keep us safe."
Claudia nodded hesitantly, her gaze darting between the faces in the room. I could see the questions burning in her eyes, the struggle to reconcile the daughter she remembered with the woman I'd become.
"It's nice to meet you all," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sarah snorted, her golden hair catching the fading sunlight as she tossed her head. "Associates? Please. Let's call a spade a spade, shall we?According to the intel I received this morning, they're not just your associates anymore. They're your underlings."
The words hung in the air, heavy and charged. I could feel my mother's eyes on me, wide with confusion and a hint of fear. The muscles in my jaw clenched as I fought to keep my expression neutral.
Gage stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor with a sound like nails on a chalkboard. "What?" he demanded, his voice rough with shock. "What happened? Is Raul alright?"
I kept my glare on Sarah, fury bubbling up inside me. How dare she? This wasn't her story to tell, it wasn't her moment to steal. The bruises on her neck seemed to darken under my gaze, a reminder of what happened to those who crossed me.
“You might want to consider how I got there in the first place, little girl. I have no problem taking you out back and putting you down like a dog.”
Sarah blanched at my threat, her hand instinctively moving towards her gun. But before she could respond, Alex let out a low whistle. "Easy there, ladies. As much as I'd love to see a good fight, maybe we should focus on the matter at hand. Layla’s the boss lady now, so we might as well get that established right now."
My mother's hand flew to her mouth. "Layla," she whispered, her voice trembling. "What is he talking about?"
I looked to Gage instead. His shoulders were heaving with every breath, his eyes blazing. “Raul is dead, and he named me as his successor. The family is mine now."
The silence that followed was deafening. Gage looked like he'd been punched in the gut, his face a mask of cold disbelief and something that might have been regret and grief. But again, why the fuck did he care if Raul was dead? He’d spent the last year lying to us all, collecting information and feeding it to the fucking cops. Raul would have slaughtered him with his bare fucking hands.
"Jesus Christ," Gage muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I never thought... How did it happen?"
I met his gaze coldly. "Does it matter? He's dead. I'm in charge now. End of story."
Sarah let out a bitter laugh. "Well isn't that just perfect. The princess becomes queen. I'm sure you're thrilled to inherit daddy's blood money empire."
The sharp crack of the gunshot shattered the tense silence. The acrid scent of cordite filled the air as Sarah's eyes widened in shock. For a split second, she stood frozen, her mouth opening in a silent scream. Then her legs buckled and she crumpled to the floor, clutching at her thigh as blood began to seep between her fingers.
My mother's scream pierced the air. The sound grated against my nerves, but I forced myself to remain still, my gun still trained on Sarah's writhing form. From the corner of my eye, I saw Gage take a single step forward, only to be restrained by River's arm across his chest.
"You fucking psycho!" Sarah snarled through gritted teeth, her face contorted with pain and rage. "You shot me!"
I smiled coldly, cocking my head to the side. "Be grateful it was just your leg. Next time, I won't be so nice."
Claudia stumbled to her feet, her face ashen as she stared at me in horror. "Layla, what have you done?"
I turned to face my mother, my gun still warm in my hand. Her eyes were wide with horror, her face ashen as she stared at me like she was seeing a stranger. In a way, I suppose she was.
"This is who I am now, mom," I said, my voice steady and cold. "I'm not that little girl you lost all those years ago. That Layla died in a shipping container." I gestured around the room with my free hand, taking in the blood-spattered floor, the tense faces of my men. "This is my world. Violence, power, control. I've crawled my way up from nothing, fought and bled and killed to get where I am. And I'm not sorry for it."
"Raul saw my potential. He gave me the tools to survive—to thrive in a world that would have chewed me up and spit me out. He made me strong. I know this isn't what you wanted for me. You probably dreamed of a daughter with a normal life—college, a respectable job, maybe a husband and kids. But that was never in the cards for me, and it never, ever will be."
Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the blood-spattered floor, Sarah's writhing form, the tense, dangerous men surrounding us. "I think..." Claudia began, her voice trembling. She paused, swallowing hard as she fought to regain her composure. "I think I need to lie down."
Her legs buckled suddenly, and Sarge was there, his massive frame seeming to materialize beside her in an instant. He caught her gently, supporting her weight with ease. Sarge looked at me questioningly. I nodded, gesturing towards the hallway. "Let her rest."
He carried my unconscious mother from the room, and I turned back to the others. Sarah was still on the floor, her face pale with pain as she clutched at her bleeding thigh. Gage knelt beside her, his jaw clenched as he applied pressure to the wound.
"Get her patched up," I ordered, my voice cold. "And when she's coherent, make sure she understands that the next time she opens her mouth, it'll be the last thing she ever does."
Gage's eyes met mine, narrowing slightly. "Layla this isn't you. I know you're pissed, but?—"
"You don't know shit about me," I snarled, cutting him off. "Not anymore. The woman you thought you knew? She's gone. This is who I am now. Get used to it or get the fuck out."
I turned on my heel, striding towards the door. I needed air, needed space to think. As I reached the threshold, I paused, glancing back over my shoulder. "Alex, with me. The rest of you, I want eyes on every approach to this cabin."
I stormed out of the cabin, the screen door slamming behind me. The cool night air hit my flushed skin, a welcome relief from the suffocating tension inside. Gravel crunched under my heels as I made my way to the truck.
The forest loomed dark and imposing around us, ancient redwoods stretching endlessly into the inky sky. An owl hooted mournfully in the distance. I yanked open the rear door, sliding into the backseat. The leather was cool against my heated skin.
Alex was right behind me, his breath coming fast as he climbed in and slammed the door. For a moment we just stared at each other, chests heaving. Then he reached for me and I surged forward, crashing my lips against his.
The kiss was all teeth and tongue, savage and desperate. I clawed at his shirt, needing to feel his skin under my hands. He growled low in his throat, large hands gripping my hips bruisingly tight as he pulled me onto his lap.
I ground down against him, feeling his hardness press against me through layers of denim. His fingers tangled in my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat. His lips and teeth blazed a trail of fire down my neck as I fumbled with his belt buckle.
We didn't bother fully undressing, I just kicked off my heels and Alex yanked my jeans off, pulling his cock free and stroking himself once—twice—before pulling me back over him. I sank down onto him with a gasp, reveling in the delicious stretch and burn. Alex's hands gripped my hips, guiding me as I began to move. The truck rocked slightly with our frantic rhythm.
I rode him hard and fast, chasing oblivion. I needed this—needed to feel something other than the fear and rage. Alex's lips found my breast through the thin fabric of my tank top, teeth grazing my nipple. I cried out, arching into him.
"Fuck—" he groaned, thrusting up to meet me. "So goddamn wet for me, beautiful."
I silenced him with another bruising kiss, not wanting to hear sweet words right now. This wasn't about tenderness or love. This was about forgetting, about losing myself in sensation.
My nails raked down his chest, leaving angry red welts in their wake. Alex hissed, retaliating by bringing his hand down sharply on my ass. The sting only spurred me on, my movements becoming more frenzied.
I could feel my release building, coiling tighter and tighter in my core. Alex's thumb found my clit, circling roughly. "Shit—fuck, baby girl—” He moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head.
I felt my pussy clench around him as the tension inside me snapped. My vision whited out as waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me trembling and gasping. Alex followed a moment later, his grip on my hips bruising as he thrust up into me one final time with a guttural groan.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both panting heavily as we came down from our high. Eventually, I climbed off him on shaky legs, grimacing slightly at the sticky mess between my thighs. Without a word, Alex handed me a handful of fast food napkins from the glove compartment.
As I cleaned myself up, the silence in the truck felt thick and heavy. The windows had fogged up, creating a cocoon of privacy from the outside world. The scent of sex and sweat hung in the air, mingling with the lingering smell of leather and pine air freshener.
Suddenly, the door opened, letting in a rush of cool night air. River's hulking form slid into the seat beside me, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. Without a word, he passed it to me, the ember glowing bright orange in the darkness.
I took a long drag, letting the harsh smoke fill my lungs. The nicotine hit my system, easing some of the tension that still thrummed through my body.
River pulled the door closed with a soft thunk, sealing us back into our little bubble. For a moment, the only sound was our breathing and the faint crackle of the cigarette as I took another pull.
"You know," River drawled, his deep voice rumbling in the confined space, "if you two wanted to go stargazing, there are more comfortable spots than the backseat of a truck."
I snorted, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. “Alex definitely saw some stars.”
I passed the cigarette to Alex, watching as he took a long drag. The ember glowed brightly in the darkness, illuminating the sharp planes of his face for a moment before fading. Smoke curled lazily from his lips as he exhaled, ghosting across my skin and sending a shiver through me.
"So, has Sarah stopped whining about being shot yet?"
River's deep chuckle rumbled through the truck. "Last I saw, she was still cursing your name and threatening to call for backup. Gage managed to get the bleeding under control, though. She'll live."
"Pity," I muttered, taking the cigarette back from Alex.
Alex's hand found my thigh, squeezing gently. "I've never been so turned on in my life,"
I smirked, raising an eyebrow at Alex. "You've said that before, you know. I'm starting to think you have a violence kink."
“Watching you hurt people makes my dick hard." His hand slid higher up my thigh.
As I opened my mouth, a blinding flash of light exploded outside, searing my retinas and leaving spots dancing across my vision.
"What the f—" Alex's curse was cut short as dark shapes materialized through the fogged windows, moving with eerie silence and precision. My hand flew to my gun, but before I could draw, a deafening crack split the air.
The windows exploded inward in a shower of glass shards. I instinctively threw my arms up to shield my face, feeling the sting of tiny cuts on my exposed skin. A hissing sound filled the air as thick, greenish gas began pouring in through the shattered windows.
"Hold your fucking breath!” River bellowed, already lunging to cover my body with his. But it was too late. The acrid fumes hit my lungs like liquid fire, setting off an explosion of coughing.
My eyes watered uncontrollably, vision blurring as the gas seeped in. I fumbled blindly for my weapon, but my limbs felt leaden, uncooperative. Through the haze, I saw Alex slumped against the seat, his eyes rolling back in his head. River managed to wrench the door open but collapsed half out of the truck, his bulk blocking any chance of escape.
The last thing I registered before darkness claimed me was the rhythmic thud of booted feet approaching and a deep, unfamiliar voice crackling through a radio.