Chapter Fourteen
Monica held out the key to Jayla. “Here’s your key, Miss Davenport.”
“Please call me Jayla.”
“All right,” she said and smiled. “Order from room service for dinner and breakfast. We have a tab here, so if I were you. I’d get the lobster,” she said and laughed.
She watched the young woman walk to the window.
They were on the twenty-second floor, so the view was breathtaking with the city and the buildings’ night-lights, which looked like a thousand fireflies. “Do you have any questions?”
Jayla turned back. “Can I make a call?”
Monica nodded. “Of course. As many as you want.”
Jayla’s eyes fell on a suitcase next to the dresser. “What’s that?”
“I was told it’s the clothes you’re going to need for the next few days. Is there a problem?”
“No. I just wasn’t told what was going to happen. Thank you, Monica.”
“We’ll be here to pick you up around ten.”
“I’ll be down in the lobby waiting.”
“We would rather you stay in the protected room. We don’t foresee anything happening, but we don’t want to take a chance. How about I just come to the room? I’ll make sure I’m the one that comes and gets you, so you feel more comfortable.”
Jayla tried to smile. “That would be great.”
“Get some rest.”
Jayla closed and locked the door behind the woman and turned. She felt aimless. She didn’t know what to think or do at this point. The director might know what’s going on. She sat on the side of the bed and lifted the phone.
It took talking to three people and ten minutes to get through to him. “Sir, it’s Jayla.”
“Jayla, I wish you’d stop calling me Sir.”
“I’m sorry. I wondered where Beau and Diego were. Would you have any idea where they might be or a number I can reach them at?” She grew more and more anxious as the seconds passed in silence.
“Jayla, I need you to concentrate on the trial. I’ll find the men and have them get word to you.”
“But why did they have to leave? I expected them to come into the courthouse.”
Another pause. “I’m not sure.”
“Sir, I know the reason they didn’t come in with me was because they had to call you. What was said to keep them away?”
“I’m sure they’ll contact you when they get a chance.”
Jayla paused for a moment. She didn’t believe him. Not one word. “Why are you doing this?” She swallowed the tears. She never wanted to let him know he had upset her that badly.
“What?” he asked, confused.
“Hurting me? What did I do to make you hate me so much?”
“Hate you? I’ve never hated you. I never could. You’re a part of the two people I’ve loved more than life itself. You’re the only thing left in this world I care about.”
Jayla shook her head and sat down on the bed. “I don’t believe a word you’re saying. If you cared about me at all, how could you have tossed me away like you did when I needed you the most?”
“Oh, Jayla. I felt like I was losing my mind. The school was the only thing I could think of to keep you safe because I couldn’t at the time.”
Jayla rubbed her forehead. “I’m going to hang up. I’m tired.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“I hear what everyone says to me, but they never mean it. Good night.” She heard him try to keep her on the line, but she couldn’t take any more lies. She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked. The pain was excruciating, and it felt like it was eating at her insides.
What was it about her that made people walk away from her? She rolled over to lie on her side. Tears would come, but right then, she was hollow, a shell of a person.
She woke several hours later, shaking. The hotel room had become so cold, and she was on top of the bedspread. She hurried to the heater by the window and cranked it as high as it would go, and then went to the bathroom and did the same.
A shaft of pain hit her when she thought she hadn’t had to worry about being warm for so long because her men—the men—took care to keep her from getting chilled.
Jayla picked up the suitcase and put it on top of the desk. She was so confused. Everything she would need was packed in the case. Some were hers, but some looked brand new. Who the hell was doing her packing? She vaguely wondered if she’d ever find out or if she even cared.
She took out a nightgown and toiletries and closed herself in the bathroom.
Jayla took a long, hot shower, dispelling the last chill from herself.
She made use of the hair dryer and spent half an hour drying most of her hair.
The long black strands sifted through her fingers before falling down around her.
She asked herself many times why she kept it this long, and all she could come up with was that it was the only thing that made her feel beautiful.
But that was before. Now it was just a hindrance. She braided it quickly before she dressed, but kept her gaze away from her reflection. She didn’t have to see the pain or lifeless look that would stare back at her in the mirror to know it was there.
She was relieved to feel the heater had done its job, and the room was toasty.
At least she wouldn’t die of hypothermia.
Jayla lay under the covers and looked toward the clock.
Four-thirty in the morning. Sleep was dragging her down, but her mind wouldn’t rest enough to let go.
With every hour that passed, she grew more frozen inside.
She had to get through the trial, and then she’d take off.
Maybe to the beach or perhaps the mountains.
She’d give herself time to grieve, and then she had to make a life for herself.
Making plans helped a bit. It was a reminder that she could still make a great life for herself.
Jayla was up, dressed, and ready an hour before Monica knocked on the door.
Monica tried to hide her shock. Jayla was pale and looked like she hadn’t slept the night before. But it was the nothingness in her light-colored eyes that tugged at her heart. Whoever the bastard was that was hurting her, he deserved to get his ass royally kicked or a knee in the balls.
Monica waited until they were in her car. “Jayla, did you eat any breakfast?”
She shook her head and kept her face turned out her side window. “No, I had some coffee.”
“Do you think you could eat something?”
“No, but thank you.”
Jayla followed Monica into the room they used the day before. Gannon looked up from some papers, and an immediate scowl crossed his face. Monica shrugged and then went back to work and let him deal with it.
Gannon stood and held out a chair for Jayla before sitting back down. “Is everything okay?”
Jayla nodded. “Yes. I’m just a little tired.”
He didn’t believe a word she said but didn’t push it. “Are you ready for the questions again and a few more my group thought of last night?”
“Yes.”
Gannon paused, then went to work. He made sure she had a drink in front of her and took a few bites of the sandwich. Between the interruptions and the calls, they didn’t finish until after five that afternoon.
“I’m going to have Monica take you back to the hotel. Get some rest, and we’ll have someone pick you up at nine a.m. tomorrow. Any problems with that?”
Jayla stood and shook her head. “No, I’ll be waiting. After I testify, may I leave?”
“Yes, after you’re done testifying, you may go back to your life.”
“Yes, my life ... thank you.”