you, but I’m grateful. Thank you for your generosity and for the ride.” She reaches for the handle and climbs out of the car.
I hear catcalls as she shuts the door, and I’m shouting at the driver to stop, and to wait for me. My door flies open, and I jog around the car to catch up with her. I glare at the men who are calling out to her, placing my hand on the small of her back. She visibly relaxes and allows me to lead her to the main entrance of the apartment building.
“I’m right here.” She points to the first door on the left.” Her hand trembles as she places the key into the lock and turns the knob. Turning to face me, she says, “Thank you again. For everything.”
“Do they bother you?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “They’re harmless.”
“Until they’re not.”
“I’ve lived here on my own for seven years. I can handle myself. Tonight, I had a momentary moment of weakness. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Pack a bag,” I tell her, looking at the flimsy handle and lock on her door.
“What?” She takes a step back and into her apartment.
“Pack a bag. You can’t stay here.”
“That’s not up to you,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Layla, it’s not safe.”
“This is my home, Owen. And who do you think you are? Telling me where I can and can’t stay. You don’t know me.”
My jaw ticks. “I can’t let you stay here. Look at this lock.” I reach for the door handle and wiggle it, showing her it’s loose.
“Thank you for your generosity.” She steps back, reaching for the door, and I place my hand on it to stop her.
“Please.”
More tears coat her cheeks, and I hate that I’m upsetting her, but damnit, I can’t let her stay here. This place is a dump, and those guys are sitting right outside her window.
“I don’t have anywhere to go,” she murmurs.
Fuck me. “I’ll take care of it. Please, go pack a bag.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Get you a room. Hell, I have a suite. You can stay with me.”
“Then what, Owen? That’s fine for tonight, or even until you go back to wherever you came from, but then what? That still leaves me here, in this ratty old apartment. Look, I appreciate your concern, but this is my life. I’ve worked hard to keep this shitty roof over my head.”
“I’ll stay,” I say, taking a step forward, putting us toe-to-toe.
“No.” Her hands land flat against my chest, holding off my advances to enter her apartment. “I don’t even know you. Hell, you just told me your name tonight. This is not happening.” She huffs out a breath, blowing the errant hair out of her eyes. “I’m a big girl. I’ve got this. Thank you again for the ride, and the generous tips. I’ll see you around, Owen.”
She gives me a shove, and I stumble back, surprised. This gives her enough time to slam the door in my face. “Layla.” I pound my fist on the door. Nothing but silence greets me. “Shit.” Making my way outside, I take in the five guys who are sitting around drinking and smoking. “Gentlemen,” I greet them. “How about a little business proposition?” I ask them.
“What ya got in mind?” one of them asks.
“Hundred bucks for each of you to leave this building and not come back for at least twenty-four hours.” They stumble to their feet. Hands held out. I slap a crisp hundred in each of their hands and watch as they blindly walk away from the building. It’s not much, but I’ll feel better about leaving her here on her own. I bought myself some time, but now I need a plan. I can’t let her stay here. I know that. What I don’t know is why it bothers me so much.
Chapter 4
Layla
If I thought I was tired last night, that’s nothing compared to today. I didn’t sleep at all. I couldn’t seem to shut my mind off. One minute I’m worrying about my car and how much it’s going to cost to fix it, and the next, my mind is consumed with Owen.
While I appreciate his concern, I barely know the guy. No way am I letting him put me up in a room, or even stay with him. No way. I’ve served him a week’s worth of meals, and we’ve exchanged small talk. That does not translate to a sleepover, or a hey, let