He’s Carter’s man
“Why?” I ask, bringing his eyes back to me.
“I can’t answer that for you, Layla,” Saint says.
“Because you don’t know or because you won’t tell me?” I question.
“A little of both. But I do know he loves you.”
“You don’t know shit,” I spit. Why have Saint here watching me if he loved me? Why isn’t Carter here himself? I want to scream until my lungs burst.
“If there’s one thing I know about Carter it’s that.”
I can’t do this anymore. The hope that was still dangling there for Carter slips free. I won’t do this anymore. They have to let me go, let us go.
“Why won’t you guys just let me go? He said I was free. Just give me my freedom!” I yell at him.
“You’ll never be free of Carter. Never. Even more so with his baby inside you.”
Bullshit, I think to myself. If he truly cared he would’ve been here for me. I went to see him in prison and he took my first kiss and told me to leave. He came back again, taking my virginity this time. Maybe he was just fulfilling his needs with me. I’m just not getting how I fit into all of this. My mind can’t take it anymore. Nothing is making any sense to me. If he loved me, he would’ve told me what the hell is happening. He knows I can’t remember and that it’s driving me crazy. Does he really think keeping me in the dark will help me?
Why does he keep ripping this scab open? I’m not dumb. I know I’ll always wear the scar of Carter’s love on me, it’s part of why I got the tattoo. But they won’t even allow the wound to heal. They keep ripping it open and making me bleed. They’ll keep doing it if I let them, until it consumes me.
“You’re just like him,” I say. “Filled with lies. He doesn’t love me. Does a man leave the woman he loves? Does he rip her to shreds and then leave her to pull herself together alone? If that’s your guy’s kind of love, I don’t want any. Keep it.”
“Layla, there’s just so much you don’t know,” Saint says, but I’m not hearing it anymore.
“You’re not getting it. No one cared enough about me to tell me. And I’m done. When you leave here you tell Carter if I ever see him again we’re all going to find out how much of my father I have in me. And this baby, it’s mine. I won’t have it in his world. I’ll make sure it never knows your type of love,” I hiss, before turning to face Jeanette who is staring at Saint.
“You got what you needed from him?” she asks, still not taking her eyes from him.
“Yes,” I say, grabbing her hand
“Get out,” she says, way calmer than I thought she would.
“Mama, it’s not what you think.”
“Don’t call me that,” she says through gritted teeth, and I can see her control slipping. I squeeze her hand tighter so she knows I’m here.
“Jeanette, it’s why I came here but not why I’m staying.”
“You used me.”
“That is not true!” he shouts.
“I won’t be used by another man. I’ve played that game before and I won’t play it again. Get out. We’re through.”
I can hear the pain in her voice. This must be the past she still hasn’t told me about.
“We’re so far from through and you know it. You. Are. Mine.”
“I’m not your shit. I’m not your goddamn anything, Michael.”
Saint goes to reach for her but Jeanette shrinks back from him and he stops.
“Touch me and I’ll scream this house down. You better get out or I’m calling the cops.”
Saint takes a step back and I see his shoulders drop in defeat. “I’ll give you some time but this will never be over, Mama,” he says with resolve and turns to leave. It’s only then that I notice a silent Justin behind him walk out at the same time.
And then Jeanette does the one thing I’ve never seen her do. She cries.
CARTER
I put the picture on her bedside table and I stare down at her naked body, not wanting to leave. Every cell in my body is pulling me back to bed with her but I have to ignore it. I sit on the edge of the bed and allow myself two more minutes. I’ve waited eight years to be this close to her. I just need two more minutes before we’re separated again.
I lightly stroke her cheek and she leans into my touch. She smiles a little and I can only hope she’s dreaming of me.
The only thing that could take me away from her is protecting her. I didn’t lie to her – she’s safe and she’s free. I’m out and she won’t ever have to worry again, but I’m going to find her father and make him pay for everything he did to her. I told her I’ll be back and I just hope she doesn’t hate me for leaving like this. If she looked me in the eyes and asked me to stay, I would. So I’m taking the easy way out because I can’t risk someone coming after her again.
My soul aches as I stand up and step away from the bed. I turn around and let myself have one last look at her before I close the door.
“Wait for me, baby,” I whisper. And then I’m gone.
LAYLA
Three months later
“I said get your nasty fucking cunt out of my face before I lose my temper,” I growl. I have a pounding headache and this shit isn’t helping.
“Oh come on, Daddy, don’t be like that. I can feel you’ve got a big pole in there you’d like me to dance on. Let me take you in the back, no extra charge.” The stripper grinds on my limp cock and winks over her shoulder at me. Like that’s what it’s going to take to get me to fuck her. She eyed me up the second I walked in this place. She’s been rubbing all over me and it’s taking all my strength not to stand up and put her on her ass. Fake tits and bleached-out hair might do it for some guys, but my cock only gets hard for one woman, and this one ain’t her.