Recovery (8 page)

“I get it,” he said with a smile. “Really, I know stage moms. How about this…” he reached in his wallet, pulling out a golden business card and stuffing it in the pocket of Layla’s flannel shirt.

“Give me a call as soon as you turn eighteen.”

Layla thanked him before climbing in the passenger’s seat of her mother’s Mercedes – another luxurious item that Emily had financed on Layla’s dime. Emily tried to make small talk with her, but Layla ignored her, sliding her headphones over her head. As they made their way down the long stretch of road towards home, Layla rubbed her finger over the business card Jerry had given her, vowing to never lose it.

One day I’ll be free of her,
Layla told herself as she looked over at Emily. She looked so much like her daughter, but they couldn’t have been more different. She lit a cigarette, rolling down her window to ash it and veering slightly into another lane. Someone honked at her, but Emily rolled her eyes.

“People are so fucking inconsiderate,” she scoffed, turning onto the freeway, “no one in LA ever thinks about anyone but themselves.”

Layla couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of her mother’s words.

“Yeah,” Layla whispered, turning on her iPod and pressing play on one of her favorite songs.

“No one ever does.”

MAIN MAN

"I'm my main man.
Always ready for what ever's gonna happen.
Spend my time in a cold jail cell, shootin' up poison
And livin' in hell and I never care what people think,
My history's written on me in tattooed ink."

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“When are you going to tell her?” Emily asked.

She turned over onto her side, running a hand through Leo’s tousled hair. He had arrived at her mansion in Hollywood Hills the previous evening, catching Emily off guard.

She buzzed him inside apprehensively, looking over at the alarm clock on her bedside table. It was eleven p.m.

“Whatever he wants,” she said aloud, “it better be good.”

It had been months since Emily had last seen Leo, and their previous encounter had hardly been a good one. She had reprimanded him for holding her daughter hostage, taking it as a personal attack.
He must have found out
, she thought to herself.

Emily had never been one to take any stock in coincidences, and when Leo came stumbling back into her life after a single encounter they had shared together over twenty years ago, she became convinced that there was only one reason why.

He wanted money. He had found out that he was Layla’s father. That there was at least a chance of it being true. He had put the dots together. He had done his research, and now, he expected a cut of the pie.

At least, that’s what Emily had convinced herself.

Hearing a knock on her door, she got out of bed and pulled on her silk robe, taking a quick look in the mirror before answering. Leo stood in front of her, soaking wet from the rain, a guilty look etched across his handsome face.

“What do you want?” Emily asked evenly, stepping aside and shutting the door behind him.

She had figured this moment would come eventually. In fact, she had prepared for it.

“Here,” Emily said, stepping into her bathroom and grabbing a towel. She tossed it to Leo and he thanked her. Emily watched as he dried off his hair, pulling off his leather cut and placing it over one of her dining room chairs.

“Wait,” Emily interjected, grabbing it from him. Their hands touched for an electrifying second and their eyes met, but Emily tore herself away from him. She hung Leo’s cut on a hanger, sliding it into a closet near the front door.

“I don’t want to ruin the upholstery,” she whispered, not making eye contact with him.

“Look can we just cut to the chase?” she asked, reaching for her purse on the table and pulling out a checkbook. She had expected this day to come eventually.

“How much do you want?” she asked.

Leo raised his eyebrows, a look of confusion surfacing on his face.

“What?”

“To keep you quiet…” Emily trailed off.

“How much is it going to take? Five grand? Ten? Give me a number.”

Finally understanding what she was getting at, Leo chuckled, leaning against the island counter that sat in the middle of Emily’s kitchen.

“Is that really why you think I’m here?” he asked, his wet t-shirt pulling taut over his muscular chest. Emily swallowed hard.

“Why else would you be?” she bit back.

Leo shrugged.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you,” he whispered, stepping slowly towards her. Emily stumbled backwards, tripping over her coffee table and landing on her large leather coach. Leo laughed.

“You’re the mother of my child, after all.”

The words hit Emily like a slap across the face.

There it is,
she thought.
He knows
.

“How did you find out?” she asked, her voice dull and monotone.

But Leo didn’t answer. Instead, he slid down on the couch beside Emily, closing the distance between them. He was here for one reason and one reason only, and it wasn’t money. If he couldn’t have Layla, he wanted the next best thing, and that was Emily.

“Get off of me,” she demanded, attempting to slide away from Leo as he gripped her thigh beneath her night gown and robe. Finally, she managed to free herself from him. She stood up, pointing at the door.

“Get out!” she yelled.

 “Now! I swear to god, I’ll call the cops.”

Her voice was shaky, uneven, and not at all authoritative. Leo could tell just by looking at her that she was all bluff, which is why he didn’t move.

“I mean it!” she bellowed as Leo stood up, inching towards her. He grabbed her hand tightly, pulling her petite frame against his much larger one and pressing a hand over her mouth.

“Shh,” he whispered into her dark red hair. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Emily cowered beneath his grip, her green eyes wild and afraid. She wasn’t sure what Leo was capable of. He might have been the father of her daughter, but Emily barely knew him. All she knew was that actions spoke louder than words, and Leo’s actions were making it quite clear that he was up to no good.

“Please,” she begged, her voice muffled by Leo’s large calloused hand.

In one quick motion, he picked Emily up, heaving her over his broad shoulders as she kicked and tensed beneath him. She hit his back, her tiny fists balled tight with anger, but the impact barely affected him.

Once inside Emily’s bedroom, he tossed her on her unmade bed, locking the door behind himself. She scrambled to stand up, but Leo approached her, slowly pushing her back down.

“Why are you doing this?” Emily begged, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She looked over at the picture sitting on her bedside table. It was one Emily had taken with Stephen months ago, during one of their random vacations. He was one of Emily’s oldest clients and the man Emily wanted to believe was Layla’s father.

Then, Leo came crashing back into her life, forcing Emily to come to terms with her bitter reality. The father of her only child was a dirt poor biker who, while incredibly handsome in his own right, had nothing to offer her. He wasn’t the wealthy, all-American doctor Emily was embracing in the photograph – the only client Emily had ever developed actual feelings for. What they had wasn’t a relationship, but it was something. For the past twenty years, Emily had been meeting with Stephen on a monthly basis, but it had stopped being about the money a long time ago.

“Who is the guy?” Leo asked, interjecting Emily’s train of thought. She pulled her eyes away from the picture, swallowing hard.

“No one,” Emily whispered. She looked at the wilted roses on the table beside the photograph. Stephen had given them to her before they last parted ways, but they had long sense faded, drooping in discouragement – a dull shadow of what they had once been.

Tired of talking, Leo grabbed Emily by the wrist, pushing her down onto the bed. She tried her best to fight him off, but it was no use. He had all of the control. Breathing hard, Leo slipped Emily’s silk robe down her shoulders, his fingertips lingering over the curve of her bare neckline. He groaned. She looked so much like Layla. The reality of who she was to Leo still felt like salt being sprinkled on a fresh wound, but regardless, he couldn’t help the way he felt.

It didn’t occur to Leo that what he was doing to Emily constituted as assault. He simply needed a release – one he couldn’t bring himself to find in Layla. She might not have known the truth, but Leo did, and that was enough. The had committed the ultimate sin once already and regardless of how much Leo might have wanted to, he wouldn’t allow it to happen again.

Leo knew that Layla had been coming to his cabin for months. That she was using it as a place to escape. Often times he would watch her through the dusty windows, never coming inside. He wasn’t ready to come face to face with her yet. Not after what they had done. But he let her stay, never seeing a reason to object.

Then came the heist.

Chase and the boys had decided that the best place to store their stolen firearms was at Leo’s cabin. It was secluded and as far as they knew, deserted.

“It’s perfect,” Chase said.

Leo hesitantly agreed, knowing full well what the decision entailed. He would almost certainly bump into Layla, and when he did, he wasn’t sure how he would react.

The day of the heist, Leo made sure to arrive at the cabin before the rest of the boys and sure enough, Layla’s Range Rover was parked in its usual spot amongst the trees. It was raining and Leo parked his bike uphill, away from the current of mud and water that was flowing from where the cabin sat, perched in the distance.

And that’s when he saw her.

She must have heard him approaching. She was standing a few feet away from him, a look of shock etched across her pretty face. She looked stunning. Leo approached her as she stumbled backwards, falling into a puddle of mud and twisting her ankle in the process.

Feeling Emily shudder beneath him, Leo pulled himself from his thoughts, bringing his lips crashing down against hers. It was electrifying. Emily tensed, but Leo could feel her slowly beginning to loosen up, relinquishing herself to the invasion.

If this is what I have to do to make him go away then so be it,
Emily thought. But there was a part of her, something buried deeper inside, that didn’t mind it. Kissing Leo brought Emily back to a time in her life when she had felt the freest, long before she had become distracted by her daughter’s fame and fortune.

Convincing herself that she was only playing a role, Emily kissed Leo back, allowing her tongue to tangle against his. She moaned into his mouth, overcome by the smell of his after shave mixed with a familiar tinge of firewood, gasoline, whiskey and cigarettes. Emily’s eyes fluttered closed. Leo could tell just by looking at her that she was done operating under the pretense that she didn’t want this as much as he did.

Ever since Leo had slid his way back into her life, ever since she had slapped him across the face and told him to stay away from her and Layla, Emily had found herself fantasizing about what it would be like to be with him again. Even just once.

With a groan, Leo reached down, unbuckling his jeans and pulling them down around his ankles – followed immediately by his briefs. Emily could feel his cock springing to life against her inner thighs, veiny and throbbing. He was at least eight inches long with a meaty girth and while he wasn’t circumcised, his shiny cock head was on full display to Emily as his foreskin retracted.

Emily reached down, wrapping her hand around Leo’s exposed sex as he groaned in approval. “Fuck,” he whispered.

With shaking hands, Emily began to pump him, the silky barrier of his foreskin sliding back and forth against his shaft. Overcome by pleasure, Leo braced himself with one hand against the wall, bringing the other between Emily’s legs.

“I want to feel you,” he groaned. Emily tensed her legs in surprise. “I want to be looking at it when I come.”

 “Ok,” Emily panted, lifting her hips off the bed and allowing Leo to pull off the soft barrier of her panties. He dragged them downwards, tossing them to the ground. Then, he eased two firm fingers inside of Emily’s damp womanhood, sliding them in and out to match the way she was stroking him.