Layla - Colleen Hoover Page 0,47
hatred in her eyes. “I’m leaving. And if you try to stop me this time, I will scream until someone hears me or until I die. I don’t really care which comes first.”
“I’m not the one who stopped you from leaving last time, Layla.”
I stay where I am as she brushes past me, but I watch as she crosses the foyer and heads toward the front door. She gets the top lock unbolted before she stops, pauses, and then backs away from the door.
She turns around to face me, and I can tell Layla isn’t the one looking back at me right now. It’s Willow.
“She’s really upset,” Willow says. Her eyes are full of concern. “I think you need to tie her up again.”
I nod and walk back up the stairs with Willow and into the bedroom. She sits down on the bed, and I notice a tear fall down her cheek as she lifts her hands up to me.
“Don’t feel bad,” I say, even though I know she does. We both do.
“I can’t help it. I hate that we’re doing this to her. She thinks you’re evil and that she’s going crazy.”
I rewrap her hands before I tie them with the rope, hoping Willow will stay inside her long enough for Layla to fall asleep. “Have you been downstairs with us this whole time?” I ask her.
Willow nods. “Yes, but he hasn’t offered up any advice. No explanations.”
“I know, but he’s getting there. I don’t have much more to tell him, and then he could know exactly how to help you. It’s why we have to keep Layla here until we’re finished. We might need her.”
Willow is crying a little bit harder now. Her tears are different than Layla’s. Layla cries out of anger and fear. Willow cries because she’s sympathetic toward Layla.
God, what a tangled web we’ve woven.
I grab a tissue from beside the bed and wipe the tears from her cheeks. I tilt her face up. “We’re going to figure this out. I promise. Can you try to make Layla fall asleep?”
She nods. I lean forward and kiss her on top of the head; then I go back downstairs. When I walk into the kitchen, I feel guilt, but it’s also accompanied by a little bit more hope than it has been lately. This man has seen Layla. He’s seen what Willow can do. None of it seemed to faze him, though, so that gives me a sense of optimism. If it didn’t faze him, maybe he’s seen things like this before. And if he’s seen things like this before, maybe he really can help.
“Is Willow making you do this?” the man asks as I take a seat.
I’m not sure how to answer that. She doesn’t want us to leave. She’s made that clear. But I also haven’t fought back very hard. “I don’t know. I think this is a mutual effort, unfortunately.”
“Why won’t either of you let Layla leave?”
I don’t answer that, because the answer makes me feel like a monster.
The man leans forward, tilting his head. “Are you in love with her?”
“Of course. She’s only tied up because I want to keep an eye on her, but I can’t do that if she leaves.”
“I wasn’t talking about Layla.”
My eyes fall to the table when I realize what he’s insinuating. I can feel the heat in my chest spread to my neck . . . my cheeks. “No. It’s not like that.”
“Not like what?”
“It’s not . . . I don’t know. I care about Willow. But I’m in love with Layla.”
“But you’ve developed a relationship with Willow. Enough of one that you would put Layla at risk in order to help Willow.”
“I don’t feel like Layla is at risk,” I say.
“You certainly aren’t keeping her out of harm’s way by forcing her to stay here.”
“But I’m also not doing it out of a lack of concern for her.” I’m getting agitated at his line of questioning. “Look, it doesn’t matter why I’m choosing to keep Layla here. She’s seen too much. That’s a good enough reason alone.” I wave my hand toward him. “Ask me something else.”
He rolls his eyes a little. “All right. How often do you and Willow use Layla’s body without her knowledge?”
“Not as much as we did at first.”
“How often did it happen in the beginning?”
“A lot.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The way a person wakes up in the morning reveals a lot about the stage they’re at in life. Before I met Layla, I was