Make Me Yours (14 page)

   The beer bottle fumbles from his hands. I reach and grab it, holding it out to the side. I have no idea what I’ m doing, but I wave it at David as he walks toward me. I screech when he launches toward me, jutting the bottle out. He curses and grabs his wrist. I see the blood dripping and my stomach churns.

    Firm hands from behind me grab me and I scream. “Shh, it’s me,” Taylor says. “Come on the cops are coming,” he says. I keep the bottle in my hand as I run along with the rest of the crowd. I glance back at the tree but Rod is gone. Chills set in but I toss them away, hoping I’ll right this wrong soon.

   Brett takes Cindy home and says he’ll stay with her. I’ve glanced at Taylor a few times, he has a scratch on his cheek and a
bloody shirt, but it’s not his blood. Thank God.

   He says nothing as he leads us toward his apartment.
I can smell the blood on him, but I’m too much of a pansy ass to say anything.

 
We go into his apartment, I shut the door behind me, fingers shaking. “What the fuck did you do that for?” Taylor turns around and slams his hand beside me on the door. “You could have been killed!” he screams.

   Opening my mouth I shut it, when he gives me a warning glance. I guess that’s a rhetorical question. “You could have…” he trails off, then grabs my chin in his calloused hands, “you tried to save me, Layla. You could have died.”

   “Rather me than you,” I say, biting my bottom lip. “This is my fault anyway.” A tear trails down my cheek and Taylor brushes it away.

   “This happens to me on a monthly basis. I’m prone to disasters, Lay.”

   I shrug. “I would guess so, you’re prone to me.” I toss my hands in the air, running them through my tangled blonde hair. “I can’t do this, I can’t put everyone in harm’s way.”

   Taylor grabs the back of my head and forces me to look at him. His gray eyes
bear into mine, his full lips part. I want to run my arms over his tattooed chest, but I don’t. I keep my hands to myself.

   “You are not leaving me because of Rod. If you leave, it’d be a different reason.” He grabs my waist and pushes me against the wall. “I want to take you right now, Layla. You saved me. You stood up for me. No one has ever done that.”

   I’m shivering from pain. I know I can’t keep dragging him along. Today proved that. Who is next, Cindy? Eric? Mittens?

   He grips my nape and unzips my jeans. “I want you, Lay. I want you to give me a chance.” He rubs his jaw along my cheek, the scruff rubbing hardly against my soft skin.

   I look up at him and nod. “Take me,” I mumble against his lips.

   Taylor wraps me in his arms, warm and hard. I feel the bed beneath me and I shiver until he hovers over me. His lips trail along my jaw, tongue jutting out, leaving me shivering with need. He stares down at me, as I lift my hips so he can slide my jeans off. He tossed them to the side, pul
ling at his clothes until he is above me naked. He kisses me, and I kiss him back. I know I’m not going to be kissing him again. As much as I love the feel of his skin, I know it’s wrong. It’s wrong to put someone in danger.

  
I lift my head to capture his mouth again, trailing my nails between his shoulder blades, over the protruding back muscles.

   Taylor kisses me fiercely finally rocking into me. I arch my back and grip his brown hair. He lets out a sigh, and pulls out again. “I’m going to make you feel good, baby.” He pulls my shirt above my head and unsnaps my bra with ease. My breasts spill free and he takes one in his mouth. He starts to move, at a steady pace, that’s torturous. He fills me up and pulls back. I wrap my legs around him and pull him deeper into me.

   “I want all of you,” I whisper.

   Taylor leans up and rocks into me. “You have it.”

  
I’d run away
before. Before my parent’s died. I had loaded up my backpack with candy, my Power Ranger cards and a Coke. My parents had been fighting, so I decided I better make a run for it. Dad caught me two blocks down, hiding out in a tree. The little boy that had watched me pointed right to the tree and said, “There she is.” I could have killed him.

   But, now it’s different. It’s still running away, but I’m older. I have the right. I have the right to take mys
elf out of a situation I know I would hurt by staying. Taylor is lying on his back, arm twisted around his head. His tattoos open and a sheet wrapped around his lower half. I fight the urge to run my fingers over him one more time. But, that was what last night was for. I watched him sleep, ran my fingers over him. He took me several times, me screaming his name and convulsing around him. It was a memorable last night.

  
Mittens yawns beside him, stretching her back, before curling back into Taylor’s side. Tears threaten to fall from my face, but I push them back. This is for the best. I’m pushing away before Taylor becomes a victim. Before Cindy is hurt or Brett is dragged into anything. And God knows Eric can’t defend himself.

  
I grab my suitcase and shut the door behind me. I left the window in the living room unlocked last night. The alarm system is too complicated. I step outside and the cool air wraps around me. I half expect Taylor to pop up and offer me his jacket.

  
Dumb, girl
. I shake my head and walk toward the pool hall.

   It seems when you’re looking for someone, no one knows where to find them. I know each and every one of these suckers knows who Rod or David is. They all pretend I didn’t say anything or tell me to fuck off.

   Angry, I sit at the bar and run my fingers through my hair. I’ve had a thousand calls from Taylor, Cindy and Brett. I’ve turned my phone off. I just pray none of them come here. I figure they don’t think I’d sentence myself to death. But, I can’t risk him coming after them.

   “Hey, you’re Taylor’s girl?
Layla, right?” I flinch when she says
Taylor’s girl
. I glance up and see the brunette from
Fight Night.
“You remember me? From
Fight Night
? I’m Becky.”

   I smile and offer her my hand.
“Hi, Becky.”

   She slides in beside me and pushes up her cleavage. “Want a drink?” she asks me.

   I shake my head. “No, thanks.” I don’t need any alcohol in my system. I swing my legs and remember what Becky had told me at
Fight Night.
“Do you know Rod? You said you dated him, right?”  I ask.

   She pops the top of her beer and nods, before taking a big long drink. I fight the urge to push the drink from her hands. First, because it’s nasty, second, because I need any help I can get.

   “Yea, use to date him.” She rolls her eyes. “In high school. What’d you do to piss him off so bad?” She flicks on a lighter and lights a cigarette.

   “Just some pool stuff, you know where I could find him? I need to speak with him about it.”

   She alternates between her cigarette and her beer. “Yeah, over on 45
th
avenue. He lives in apartment 2B. I’d knock first.”

   I was gonna knock alright.

   45
th
avenue is in a terrible neighborhood. The police patrol non-stop and there are thugs standing on each street corner. I get the taxi to drop me off right in front of the building. I can’t risk getting ganged rapped while I’m on a mission.

   I hide my belongings behind a bush and make my way to apartment 2B. I hear a few
voices inside, and I know one is Rod. There is knocking against the wall, and the TV is playing loudly.

   I fidget with my
shirt and take a gulp of air. The back of the apartment has a window that’s cracked. I peek in and see a bed that’s unmade, clothes and beer on the floor. I swallow and lift the window. Pulling myself up, I know what I’m doing is stupid, but I can’t let him hurt anyone. I search for the floor and crouch down as soon as I enter his home.

   The TV is loud from the living room, and I’m breathing so
hard, I can barely make myself see straight. The floor creaks when I step and I screw my eyes shut. All I need is the advantage of surprise. I can beat him until he is begging for his life, then I’ll make a run for it. I’m not sure where, maybe back to Dallas? No, not there. Who knows?

   I can hear him laughing at the TV as I squeak the door open. The light flickers against the hallway wall, causing me to jump. Slipping my fingers around a baseball bat
that is in the corner of his room, I stand and walk into the living room.

   He is sprawled out on the couch, legs under a blanket. His gaze flicks to mine. “What the fuck,” he yells, jumping to his feet.

   My heart begins to pound in my ears. “What are you doing here?” he asks, pushing his shirt sleeves up his arms.

   “I’m here so you won’t hurt my friends anymore.” I grip the bat and his eyes dart toward the movement. All the sudden he begins to laugh.

   “You’re gonna fight me, Layla? That’s not what I had in mind as a payment.”

   Vomit rises in my throat, and I take a swing, hitting him in the side. He crumbles to t
he floor, grabbing at his skin. “Fuuuccck, you stupid bitch.” He climbs to his feet and I can see the anger saturating his face. “I’m gonna fuck you, then kill your crazy hustling ass.”

   I hold onto the bat tight, as he walks toward me. I swing again but he ducks, sliding to the left. Panicking, I try to swing again, this time he catches the bat in his hand, snatching it from me. I stumble backwards, grabbing everything I can and tossing it at him. He covers
his face, but the lamp I throw nicks his eye. A dark trail of red blood starts to trickle down his face. “You’re gonna fucking die, bitch.”

   I’m too scared to turn my back and run, so I put my fist up and hold them there. I know it’s ridiculous, but I can’t let him hurt anyone else. I have to end this. I can’t end up like my dad. I won’t lose everything because I hustled the wrong person.

   I close my eyes and throw a punch, contacting with his jaw. I’m surprised I even hit him, but he grabs my arms and tosses me over and onto the couch. I crash into his wooden coffee table, sending wood scattering out around his living room. I feel something hard drive into my back, I scream, unable to get up.

   Rod stares down at me, smiling. He reaches my jeans and unzips them.
Oh, God, no. Please, give me strength.
I slap, and claw at his face, pressing my thumbs into this eyes. He growls and holds both of my wrists in his grip. I kick, bite and scream but no one calls the cops, no one even hears us.

   My panties are at my ankles, and he leans up to unzip his own jeans. I push up, but he slams me back down, slugging me in the face.
My eyes blacken and I moan. I can feel my eye swelling shut.

   No, my vision is going in and out. I see black and white, different
shapes swirling around. I can feel the pressure of him against me. I close my eyes and shake my head back and forth. Rod’s head snaps up, but I’m too out of it to know what he’s looking at. He lifts up, and I feel the pressure off of me, I’m light. I’m picked up. “Shh, baby. I’m going to give you to Brett. Hang on to him.” I cry out, knowing its Taylor. I press my mouth to his neck but he is passing me on. I try to reach after him, but he is out of my sight.

Chapter Nine

 
 
The faint sound of constant dripping wakes me. My eyes focus on the light, but I close them again. “I think she’s awake,” someone says. “Doctor.”

   I feel someone poke me in the arm, I wince.
What the hell?
“She’s gonna be fine, ma’am. I need you to please go take a seat outside.”

   “No, I need to talk to her now!” I know that voice anywhere. Cindy.

   “Yes, escort her out, please.” The doctor mumbles underneath his breath. “You have some majorly concerned friends, love,” he says, mostly to himself.

   I’m not sure if I smile where he can see or not, but I know I’m smiling on the inside.

  
My body hurts.
More than I’d ever want to experience again. I hope child birth isn’t this bad. My eyes feel heavy, I can’t open it. My side hurt, then there is my back. I remember hitting the wooden table and I wince knowing it probably stuck in me. My fingers work just fine, and I wiggle them first, then I try my toes. They all work. Now, I have to work on my eyes.