Recovery (4 page)
Authors: Abigail Stone
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Contemporary Fiction
RAIN
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
When Layla awoke, the man in front of her was one she vaguely recognized, but he wasn't Leo. She blinked, trying her best to familiarize herself with her surroundings. It didn't take long for everything to come flooding back. Layla looked down at her watch, squinting. It was just after six in the morning. She was in Leo’s cabin and had managed to sleep the entire night away.
Layla sat up, stretching her arms out above her head and yawning as she tossed her legs over the side of the squeaking bed. A few feet in front of her, a stocky man sat unconscious, his large body slumped sideways in an armchair. He was snoring, his muscular chest rising and falling every time he inhaled and exhaled.
Layla felt a bout of uneasiness settling over her. From her spot in Leo's bed, she could just barely make out a name stitched onto the patch on the sleeping mans cracked leather cut. She could make out the second half of the name, but not the first. Frustrated and tired of guessing, Layla stood up, quietly approaching him. She reached out, gently lifting his leather cut to read the name on his patch.
Just as her fingers grazed the fabric, the man, who Layla had learned was named Chase, shot awake, grabbing her roughly by the wrist. Layla screamed and stumbled backwards, caught completely off guard. She flinched at the pain in her ankle, gripping the bedframe for support.
“I'm sorry!” she exclaimed, holding her arms out to protect herself. Chase appeared visibly thrown off, but relaxed once he realized where he was.
“How long have I been out?” he finally asked, getting ahold of himself.
It was then that Layla realized who he was. He was the man who had wrapped his hand around her throat a few months prior, who had threatened her and Leo, forcing them to cooperate with his agenda. He was someone Layla hoped to never see again and now, here he was, far too close to her for comfort.
Layla shivered, backing towards the door. She had to find Leo. She called out his name, searching the small cabin for any sign of him, but he was nowhere to be found. Confused and fed up, Layla stormed back into the tiny bedroom. She paused a few inches from the doorway, crossing her arms over her chest. Chase sat in the chair in front of her, smoking a cigarette, an amused looked etched across his striking face.
Layla tried to ignore how handsome he was, focusing instead on the fact that he was now the only one left with her in the cabin. She patted her body, searching the room frantically for her car keys. Finally, she found them on the floor beneath the bed. She reached down to pick them up, cringing as Chase whistled at her loudly.
What a pig,
Layla thought as she exited the room, searching the cabin for anything else that belonged to her. This was it. The final straw. Layla told herself that she was leaving and never coming back. That she would forget about Leo once and for all. He didn't seem to feel the way about her that she thought he did. Layla had thought they shared a connection. That Leo cared about her safety, at least enough not to leave her alone with one of his creepy friends, who had already behaved out of line once before.
Before Layla could open the door of the cabin to leave, Chase stepped forward from his spot in the shadows, pressing a large hand against the wood and grabbing Layla as softly as he could manage from behind.
“Let me go!” Layla shrieked as Chase pulled her over to the sofa, plopping her down onto it without a single word. Then, he approached a cooler stuffed full of beer, opening it and pulling out two small ice packs. He tossed them to Layla, nodding at her swollen ankle. After everything that had happened, Layla had somehow managed to forget how much pain she was in. Overnight, her ankle had turned an undesirable shade of purple and was tender to the touch. She flinched, hesitantly allowing Chase to press the cold ice pack against her aching flesh. To her surprise, he was gentle. He took his time, rubbing his hands over the strain in Layla's ankle and rotating between each icepack.
“Where's Leo?” Layla finally asked, her eyes fluttering closed as she gave into the feeling of relief that flooded over her as Chase massaged her ankle. He had the touch of a well-trained masseuse and Layla could hardly concentrate long enough to string two sentences together. She felt an odd sense of dread settle over her as a lump surfaced in her throat.
“Leo is handling some business,” Chase finally said, his voice hoarse and sultry. “We voted on who was to stay with you.”
Layla nodded. At least she had some shred of an explanation. She knew by now that asking for further details was fruitless. She was a woman, which meant she wasn’t worthy of an explanation, at least not in the eyes of the club.
“So I guess you lost then?” she questioned, fidgeting.
Chase shrugged.
“That depends how you look at it,” he said, reaching over to grab a beer from the cooler and cracking it, taking a sip. “Some might say I won.”
Layla felt herself blushing, her cheeks flushing a light shade of pink as she took in Chase’s disheveled appearance. His hair was short and honey blonde and tapered off near his temples. His lips were full and offset by heavy facial hair, which covered his jawline, chin and upper lip. His eyes were a captivating mix of brown and green, something not quite like hazel, and try as she might, Layla couldn't bring herself to look away from him.
Sure, she he had met him once before, but the situation had been so precarious that Layla hadn’t really took in his appearance the way she was now. He was so handsome, but in a different way than Leo was. While Layla could hardly look at Leo without seeing some of herself in him, she didn’t see any of herself in Chase’s rugged demeanor. In fact, he was as different from her as anyone could be, and in a way, that intrigued her.
“What?” he asked Layla, flashing her a sideways smile. She blushed, looking away from him.
“Nothing,” she whispered. Then, she changed the subject.
“Where is your girlfriend?” she questioned, remembering the boisterous blonde she had met a few months prior. Chase raised his eyebrows in confusion, then, he chuckled once he realized who Layla was referring to.
“Laura?” he exclaimed. “She was just a bike warmer, not my ol’ lady or anything.”
“Why?”
Layla shrugged. She didn’t know why she had asked.
“Just wondering,” she whispered.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Chase stood up, answering it. Leo and three other burly men entered, all of them with large firearms pressed beneath their arms.
“What’s going on?” Layla heard herself ask. She watched as Chase helped the men cart the guns into the basement.
No one answered her.
Against her better judgment, Layla stood up, limping towards the basement door and cracking it, listening as the men spoke.
“We raided the place just like you instructed,” Layla heard an unfamiliar voice say.
“Did anyone get hurt?” she heard Chase question.
“No,” Leo responded. “It was a clean raid. No one was home.”
“Good,” Chase said. “The guy is a fucking waxer, we know he never takes out those shiny chrome-plated cycles of his, least not past his driveway. I think it’s safe to assume he’s not using these, either.”
There was a long lap of silence before Layla heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. She raced back over to the sofa, collapsing on it and trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. Finally, the men entered the room, none of them speaking.
“Layla,” Leo said, nodding at her as he pointed to the men beside him.
“Meet Mason, Hop Scotch and Emmett.”
What kind of name is Hop Scotch?
Layla wondered, waving at each man. She vaguely recognizing their faces. She had met them before, the same time she met Chase, who stood beside Leo with his hands in his pockets.
“Oh and I’m sure you remember Chase…” Leo trailed off, shooting Layla a knowing glare. She nodded.
“Yeah,” she managed, clearing her throat. “We, uh, met.”
“So these are the guys,” Leo concluded, collapsing on the sofa beside Layla and cracking open a beer. He offered one to her, but she shook her head. “Everyone except for Richie.”
Richie.
The face of the man who had narrowly saved Layla from being raped flashed through her head. She wondered where he was, but figured Leo would mention it if he wanted to.
“But I’m sure you’re wondering what you just saw,” Leo added.
He was referencing the cabins sudden influx of firearms, but Layla wasn’t about to press him on the issue. She had learned her place in the presence of the men, all of whom wore patches on their jackets with the words “Disciples MC” stitched into them.
“Not really,” Layla responded, reaching for her purse and pulling out her phone. She looked at it nonchalantly, shrugging. “That’s your business.”
Leo looked up, flashing the boys a knowing smile. They nodded, making their way out the door and onto the front porch. Chase lagged behind, pausing to look at Layla with a glimmer in his eye that she couldn’t quite decipher.
“I’ll be out in a second man,” Leo said to him.
“Alright,” Chase said, closing the door behind himself. Layla listened as the boys started up their bikes. The rain had died down, and the sky was clear and blue in the way that it only was after a heavy storm.
“I’m sorry,” Leo whispered, urging Layla to look at him. She shrugged her shoulders.
“Why?” she asked. “All you did was leave me alone with a guy I don’t know, who I should also mention – threatened me once before.”
Leo grabbed Layla’s phone from her hand.
“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Give it back!”
“Not until you accept my apology,” he insisted, nodding towards the door. “And Chase isn’t a bad guy. I promise. You just…have to get to know him.”
Layla scoffed. It might have been true, but she wasn’t about to give Leo the satisfaction of knowing that.
“It was still kind of a dick move of you to not even let me know you were leaving,” Layla finally said. She grabbed her phone from Leo’s calloused hand, stuffing it back in her purse.
“I know,” he agreed. “But something came up and you were sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you. And Chase…well I know it doesn’t make any sense to you considering your first impression of him, but he’s my brother and I trust him.”
Leo’s word’s bumped against each other as they left his mouth. Layla looked at him from out of the corner of her eye, continuing to pout. She was dying for an explanation but as usual, Leo didn’t seem prepared to give her one.
“So what was so important?” she finally asked, uncrossing her arms and slouching against the armrest of the sofa. “What did you just have to go do this time?”
Leo cleared his throat. The noise outside the cabin had died down, but Layla could still hear the boys talking to each other, although she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“Look,” Leo finally said. “I told you that you could stay here. I want you to stay here. But…I don’t want to get you involved in my business. The club’s business. I made that mistake once before and I won’t do it again.”
He brought his heavy hand to Layla’s chin, turning her face so that she was looking at him.
“Say you’ll stay,” he whispered. “And give the guy’s a chance. I promise they aren’t so bad.”
Layla sighed. She didn’t want to argue with Leo after going so long without seeing him. If all he was doing was trying to protect her, then she would accept that.
“Okay,” she finally said. “But I do have one last question. And I promise…it’s not that intrusive.”
Leo nodded, his intense eyes burning against Layla’s.
“Ok,” he said. “Shoot.”
Layla cleared her throat.
“What kind of name is Hop Scotch?"
BORN TO DIE
