Taking the Fall (1-4)

“My real name is Layla O’Leary, not Layla Matthews. You might know my father, Dean O’Leary.”

When Jeanette gasps, I know she gets it now. Dean O’Leary is a well-known name in the papers and to top it off, the FBI has been looking for him for the past few years. I’ve been keeping my own tabs on my father on the internet the best I can but he seems to have disappeared without a trace.

I was shocked and relieved that my name somehow never got thrown into the mix. I kept waiting for my picture to pop on the news, but it never did. My father kept me so well hidden over the years I’m not even sure many know I exist.

“Holy shit,” is all she says.

“Yeah, holy shit. Let me start at the beginning. Well, what I can remember anyways.” As I tell Jeanette all that went on before I left, she just sits and listens with a few questions here and there. I tell her about my love of—and obsession with—Carter, the night I can’t remember and how it took him away from me. I tell her about the last time I went to the prison, and I tell her about running away. Then I go into last night.

“Wow, that’s all so crazy, Lays. And you think he’s gone?”

I just nod my head, not wanting to say it out loud. It’s all still so confusing to me. He said he loved me, that I’m his. He had my name on his chest but he kept saying he wasn’t good enough for me. Maybe that’s what won in the end.

“And all you know is he did eight years for manslaughter?”

“Yes, the man he killed was never identified. The report said he had no ID and no one could identify the body.”

“You’re upset because he’s gone? You want to be with him?” Jeanette asks, and I can tell she’s hesitant to push me.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Looking around, I find the picture of Carter and hand it to Jeanette.

“Jesus, he doesn’t look like a man to fuck with,” she says while turning it over and reading the back.

“I know he looks scary, but he was always so different with me. Well, he used to be. I think prison changed him. I hear they say that can happen.”

“But you’re free, right, Lays? He may have left, but you got that. He told you you’re okay to live now, to not be scared. Not having to be scared is a wonderful thing.” She’s right, but I feel longing in her words. Why is Jeanette scared?

“You’re right,” I say.

It’s time to really start living. I need to come to terms with the fact that a part of me will always love him. I need to stop trying to fight it. Embrace it and move on. In fact, I know just the way I want to do that.

“Will you come with me? I have a few places I want to go today,” I ask.

“Where to, Miss Lays?”

“I want to go look into getting a piano.”

“Fuck, I hear those things cost out the ass. This Carter dude leave some money before he split?” she jokes, trying to make me laugh.

“I have some ‘oh shit’ money I’ve been holding on to and I think I’m ready to use it now.”

“Sounds like a plan. We’ve got to stop and grab something to eat though, because the caveman fucked every calorie from my body,” Jeanette groans, jumping up from my bed.

“Also…I want to get a tattoo,” I blurt out.

Jeanette swirls around and gives me a look like she doesn’t know who I am. “Now we’re talking,” she says, doing her classic eyebrow wiggle. “Get that ass up, Lays. We got shit to do, and you can’t wear that sheet in public.”

Crawling from my bed, I grab a pair of black leggings, a cream off-the-shoulder sweater and a pair of pink peep-toes before I head into the bathroom. I drop the sheet and take a look at the marks Carter left all over my body. My mind flashes to the day I woke up in the hospital with a different set of marks. I’d wondered if I’d been raped that night, and no one would tell me. I had wondered that maybe my mind had blanked that part out, but last night I felt Carter slip past that barrier. Maybe that’s part of why I’ve been holding myself back. Carter said I was waiting for him, but maybe I was scared that the first time I’d have sex, I’d find out a shocking truth. Luckily, that didn’t happen.

Pulling my hair up, I turn on the shower and jump in. When I wash between my legs, I can still feel him there. I love and hate the feeling. I jump back out and quickly brush my teeth, re-pile my hair on top of my head and get dressed. Giving myself one last look in the mirror, I determine that this is the best it’s getting today. My eyes are still swollen but I can’t bring myself to care right now. I slip from the bathroom and grab the picture off my bed. I walk over to the trash can and toss it in.

“You sure you wanna throw that out?” Jeanette asks.

I nod my head and grab my purse and keys. I’m ready to start my new life. I won’t ever forget Carter or the gift of freedom he has given me but it’s time to move on with my life. It’s time to be free.

Two months later

I hear the doorbell ring, and yell, “Be right there!”

I know it’s Justin but he’s ten minutes early and I still need to get dressed, having only done my hair and make-up. I look down and trace my finger over the tattoo I got two months ago. The days and weeks seemed to drag on since then, and a small part of me kept thinking Carter would show up. He didn’t. The tattoo of his name on my ribcage is a reminder that he would always own a part of me, even if at times I hated him.