Make Me Yours (7 page)

  
Rod’s face is white when I glance back up. A nervous flutter runs through my stomach. “Well, Layla. Looks like you’re way better than we thought you were,” he says, voice low, stepping closer.

  
I immediately feel the need to run, like Hell. David is behind me, and even though he isn’t big, I know I can’t fight him off. I could maybe out run them, until we got to the door, but once we were in the open, I am dead. I tear at my lip with my teeth. He is examining me, flicking his tongue at his lip ring.

  
“You sure learned
quickly
, Layla,” Rod says, popping his fingers. “I should go into teaching, don’t ya think, David?”

  
I don’t dare turn to look at David. He doesn’t say anything.

  
“I guess Daddy taught you more than you said he did.” He takes another step forward, until I’m trapped between him and the table. He grabs my chin, hard. “Look at me, when I talk to you, little girl. How long have you been hustling people, huh?”

  
I bite my lip hard, his fingers are bruising my cheek, I can feel vomit in my stomach. He lets out a laugh, and digs in his pocket. He brings out a one hundred dollar bill and places it in front of my face. “How about you earn this the right way…on your back. Then will talk about giving you the money.”

  
Bile rises in my throat. I have got to get out of here. My skin is cold from fear, and my hands are shaking against the pool table. I’m trying to glance around but Rod is too big and now holding my chin again in his massive hand.

  
Please, help me. Someone.
  “I’m sorry, you can keep it,” I mumble out, not sure how I found my voice.

  
Rod shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m through with you just yet,” he says, leaning closer to my mouth. His breath smells like beer and weed. His different colors eyes are lazy and a smile is riding on his face.

  
I grip his wrist, trying to force it away from my face. It doesn’t budge. I’m about to scream, when Rod falls over on me. At first, I’m panicked, knowing he is going to try and take me here in front of everyone. His overly-heavy body, fumbling for balance. Then I look up and see Taylor standing behind him, face cold, eyes narrowed.

  
“Get up, Layla,” he says, pulling Rod away from me.

  
Rod curses, spits and rubs the back of his head. His eyes are now wide, and a grin slithers up his face. “Oh, I see we have a brave one,” he spits out, cracking his neck.

  
David is fully alert on the other side of the room. He looks ready to pounce at any time.
Great.
Taylor never takes his eyes away from Rod. He is too still, it’s an utterly scary stance. “Looks like
Layla
has a prince charming, coming to save the day.”

  
Taylor smiles, it’s a scary smile. “I’m going to take Layla home. I suggest you assholes beat it before I break your skulls in.” I don’t doubt he can do it either.

  
Rod sighs, rubs his fingers over his face and smiles. “I don’t think that’s going to work, pretty boy. See, I have plans for Layla, and I’m not a sharer. So, I insist you get on out of the way, and let me take my pretty little prize ho--,”

  
Bam. Right in the fucking neck
. It was so fast, I didn’t understand what happened at first. I search for the wall behind me and rest against it.

  
Rod grabs his throat and hurls over to the ground, coughing and twitching. Taylor’s gaze goes over to David who has pushed himself off the wall. He takes a swing, but Taylor dodges, slamming his knee into David’s nose.
Oh. My. God.
My heart is beating so loud, it sounds like a humming bird’s wings against my rib cage.

  
Taylor glances over at me. He is pissed. Before I can try and explain, he grabs me, tosses me over his shoulder and walks out the back EXIT.

Ch
apter Four

  
I slam my fist against Taylor’s ass. “Let me the fuck down, Taylor, “I yell. He doesn’t say anything, hasn’t since we exited the pool hall. I can’t see where we’re going, only that we’re in the parking lot. “Please, put me the fuck down. Now!”

  
His hand grips my thigh hard. “You’re going to learn, Layla. Those guys aren’t joking when they say they’ll kill you, you know that right? They will shoot you in the head and not think twice about it. How dare you? How dare you put yourself in harm’s way?”

  
I swallow hard, and hold my head. The blood is rushing there quickly. “What do you want me to say? I’m sorry? That’s not gonna take it back. Just let me down, I have to find Eric.”

  
“He went home. I told him I would bring you home. Now, I’m not.”

  
“What do you mean?” I yell. Several girls pass by us. I hear their heels clicking against the ground. “Help me!” I yell. They momentarily stop laughing and grow silent. “Help me, call the cops!”

  
Taylor slaps my ass hard. “She is just drunk, carryon, ladies.”

  
I hear their heels again, then their way far away, too far to hear me.
Bitches.
Taylor’s grip loosens on me and he drops me to the ground. Before I can run, he grabs my waist and pins me against his truck. “You move and I’ll chase you down. You don’t want to make me mad, Layla. I’m trying to keep you safe. Now, get in the truck.”

  
There is no fighting it. I’m going home with Taylor Jacks.

  
Taylor’s grip is tight on the steering wheel. He hasn’t said anything to me since he threatened to chase me down. I had no doubt he would stay true to his word. I sit, arms crossed over my chest, waiting for Taylor to change his mind and take me home.

  
We pull into his apartment complex.              

  
He gets out, and I stay in the car. I contemplate running, but Taylor opens my car door and gestures for me to get out.

  
“You’re lucky I knocked them out, or they’d follow you. It’s only a matter of time before they find out where you live. Then me.”

  
This is what my dad told me about. Don’t get too close, it’ll hurt the ones you care about. Anger flashes through me. I didn’t make Taylor bring me to his house. I’ve been trying to avoid him all week. He is the one that wouldn’t leave me alone. He is the one putting himself in danger. “I didn’t ask you to take me anywhere, Taylor. I’m sorry if I’ve inconvenienced you. You are more than welcomed to take me home. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. You went all macho gorilla on me, then decided to kidnap me. So, take me home, then we won’t have to worry about Rod or David jumping you.”

  
Taylor is standing in his doorway, a blank expression on his face. He presses his teeth into his lip and I swear he is fighting back a smile. “Get in the house, Layla,” he says, softly.

  
Ah! I swear I want to knock him the hell out.
“Better not run, get inside before someone sees you.”

  
I walk inside, then fold my arms over my chest. “What now, huh? I just stay here, trapped like a damn animal?”

  
Taylor shrugs off his shirt and wipes at his neck. He’s sweating. I guess beating some ass might make you sweat. It trickles down his chest, down his abs until it disappears into the fabric of his jeans. “Just calm down. We’ll figure this out. We can’t really take it to the cops, it’ll make you look wrong. You did hustle them, Layla.” He walks past me into the kitchen. “You hungry, thirsty?”

  
“Water,” I say.

  
He nods, and brings two water bottles into the living room. I sit down on his overly-priced leather couch and drink half of the bottle.

  
Taylor relaxes beside me, arms stretched out over my head. “So, how much?”

  
“How much what?”

  
“Did you hustle them for?”

  
I shrug. “It was going to be one hundred, but he didn’t give it to me.” I pick at my jeans. “He was going to…”

  
“Going to what?” Taylor asks, voice low. I don’t dare look at him.

  
“He said I could earn it.”

  
Taylor cusses beneath his breath. “He could have killed you, Layla. Do you not get what this does to you? Look at me,” he says. I turn and glance at him. He grabs my shoulders. “Why do you do this? Is it money?”

  
I don’t want to tell him that I’m broke, the coffee shop doesn’t really pay that well. I don’t have any money left over after bills and this is what I’m good at. My dad taught me well. I’m doing this for my dad. “It’s a long story,” I say, sitting back away from his grip. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

  
Taylor raises a pierced brow and sits back against the couch. “Okay. We don’t have to.”

  
The silence is killing me. Taylor is just watching TV completely oblivious to me sitting beside him. When he stands up and turns off the TV I sit up. “We have school tomorrow. I think we should hit the sack.”

  
Hit the sack?
“I’m not going to school with you tomorrow. I have no clothes. I have nothing to change into. What do you expect me to do?”

  
“Strip,” he says, pointing toward my outfit. “I’ll wash those, and you can wear them to school tomorrow. I’m not taking you home until I know it’s safe. Don’t beg, that’s the end of the story.”

  
Grr.
“Where am I sleeping? I’m not sleeping with you.”

  
Taylor reaches for my shirt and pulls it over my head. “You have no boundaries,” I say, covering myself up. Heat rises to my cheeks.

  
He smirks. “Better get in the bathroom before I take the liberty of taking your jeans off, too. Unless that’s what you’re shooting for.”

  
I walk toward the bathroom and slip off my jeans, then underwear and hand them to him. “Towels are in the cabinet, I’ll bring you something to sleep in.”

  
This is madness. I’m being kidnapped. Okay, so not really. But, it makes me aggravated that I can’t make a run for it. He’ll catch me. I can wait until he is asleep. Will he go to sleep? I did see a complex alarm system on his door. Damn it. I run my fingers through my hair and slip into the shower.

  
The shower is hot and warms every crevice. Taylor has some manly body wash, and it smells just like him. I use it, seeing nothing else I can use.

  
“Layla,” he says.

  
“Shit,” I say, dropping the soap. “Can’t you knock?”

  
I hear him chuckle. “It’s my house. And since it’s my house, I’m tempted to join you.” My heart stops.

  
“But,” he sighs, “you’re clearly angry at me. But, you’ll get the hell over it. There is a spare bedroom across the hallway. Don’t think about running, I have an alarm system. See you in the morning, hustler.”

  
The door closes. I hate him.

Chapter Five

   A thump in the kitchen wakes me. I stretch. Taylor’s spare bed is so comfortable. My thrift store mattress, is nothing compared to the lush softness of his. I tug my feet out from the covers, shivering as my feet hit the coldness of the wood floor. I tug on Taylor’s shirt he left on the toilet last night. Not to mention his boxers. I try not to think about his body being in the same clothing. It brings up things, I don’t want to feel.

  
Another thud comes from the kitchen. I stand up and walk to my door. I glance toward the kitchen. Taylor is shirtless, running pants low on his slender waist. He has his back toward me, but I can see he’s been working out. Sweat drips down his back, and he is downing a huge glass of water. He turns and my eyes widen. “Are you watching me?” he asks, brow raised.