She doesn’t know me very well.
We’re halfway down our coffees when she arrives and joins the coffee queue. She assesses me from the counter before turning her attention on Bear. Her eyes widen a fraction and rake over him. Her whole body tenses, but a hungry look flares in their depths. Her eyes flick back to mine, but lose the heat. The amused smile on my face must ease some tension and her shoulders relax.
She walks up to the barista and orders a mocha-choca-latte, whatever that shit is. After getting her drink she slides herself into the seat opposite us. The girl behind the counter glares at Layla’s back. I’d watched her approving gaze on us earlier. The petty jealousy makes me chuckle.
The sound dies on my lips as Layla pins me with her eyes. They’re tormented, and full of anxiety. I hadn’t seen it yesterday, but here and now, they glare at me like a distress flare in the darkness. Anguish grips my stomach. I swallow deeply, trying to keep down what’s left of its contents.
“Layla, this is ‘Bear,’ or Ted, if you prefer. He can perhaps help.”
I sense Bear shift in his seat.
She turns to him, her head dips a fraction in acknowledgement, and her face flushes. The spark is visible in her eyes again, but she shuts it down just as fast as it appeared. Her attraction to Bear is obvious, but the worry she’s displaying must override it. I take in her emotion with interest but it doesn’t make me feel any better, just a hell of a lot worse.
“Can you fill me in, Layla?” Bear asks. His voice is tight and the uneasiness makes me turn in his direction. It’s not just his voice; his whole body’s tense. Weird.
“I don’t know what Noah has told you, but Lizzie has disappeared. It’s not been long, a few days at most.” The nervous picking of the skin around her nails starts.
She glances at me briefly before continuing, “There… there were reasons she left the first time I can’t go into.” Again her anxious eyes flit to me. “I don’t know whether you heard or not, but Mac overdosed a couple of weeks ago. His maid found him dead.”
I hadn’t heard. I also really don’t fucking care. I’m glad he’s dead. That man had what should’ve been mine. Fucker.
Bear glares at me, expecting me to react to Layla’s comment in some derogatory manner, so I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying anything. My pulse pounds in my ears as pressure builds in my veins. What has this got to do with anything?
“She was getting ready to come home. Not for the funeral like you’re thinking,” she adds in haste. “She wouldn’t have gone there if you paid her. Lizzie was just coming home.” This time she bites at the skin surrounding her nail beds. The woman is as nervous as a lamb surrounded by wolves.
Layla’s eyes sear into mine. It’s like she wants me to understand something, but at this point I’m barely functioning and have to concentrate to even breathe. The pain, ever-present in my chest, amplifies with every word Layla utters. Lizzie was coming back. I take a gulp of my coffee to hide the shuddery breaths racking my body.
“I don’t understand why I can’t get a hold of them, her or Alex. If she stays away, she tells me. Not to say anything is just so out of character for her.”
“Maybe they have gone on a trip? Have you contacted the police?” Bear asks.
I want to yell at the mention of this Alex fucker again. I flex my fists at my sides to control the urge to smash them into the table.
Layla gives a solemn shake of her head. “They’d just laugh at me. It’s not been long enough, and she’s an adult. It’s not the same as when a child goes missing, is it?”
Bear breathes a visible sigh of relief. If the police don’t know then we’re not interfering with anything they’re doing. On the flip side, they’re not interfering with us either.
“Why did you come to Noah?” Bear’s suspicious. He’s worried she knows about me, and in turn, about him. I see him rub his abdominals where his Underdog tattoo is, and my stomach begs me to scratch the itch of mine.
“Lizzie trusted him.” She stares him straight in the eye, her gaze firm and unwavering. She truly believes what she’s saying.
“Yeah, but she’s been gone for years. Things change.” As usual, Bear’s poking the beast.
Her head drops and she takes a sip of her coffee concoction. “Not a lot changes when you love someone more than your own life.”
If she’s talking about Lizzie she’s got that one wrapped around her arse. She lifts her eyes to mine then to Bear.
“I thought maybe I was barking up the wrong tree as well. I mean, it’s a bit random just turning up on your best friend’s ex’s doorstep and asking for help. But when I saw Noah the backlash I received could only come from a man desperately hurt, and still very much in love. It was obvious how hard it was for him to hear about her. Lizzie’s trust in him has never wavered, not once, and I can see why.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I spit out through clenched teeth. I’m holding onto a very small rope and have the feeling my hands are going to let go any second. Bear scowls at me, willing me to keep it under control. But when it comes to Lizzie I have very little control left.
She lets out an exaggerated sigh and looks me in the eye, not in the least intimidated by my anger. “Do you honestly not see?” She raises her eyebrows at me. “Can’t you put together the little bits I’ve told you? Make them into a whole story, even if missing a few bits of information I can’t give you? Personally I don’t know why she just didn’t tell you. You radiate badass, which on the flip side means you would have protected her. It would have saved a lot of pain on both sides.”
My mind’s going to explode. I’m going to explode. What in the hell is going on? I shove my chair back, making a loud screech on the floor and spilling coffee all over the table. Everyone in the shop turns to look. I don’t give a fuck. I storm out of the coffee house into the fresh air needed to breathe normally again. But I stumble out onto the pavement and curse my fucked-up life. There is no way that what Layla’s implying is true. No fucking way, because if what she’s saying is true, then all the pain was for nothing. And that’s worse than being for something, much worse. Protected her? Of course I would have fucking protected her. I’ve killed for a fucking living.
She didn’t know that though, did she?
My nostrils flare and I struggle to heave in each breath. I feel… helpless. Helpless and fucking angry. Never a good combination. Helplessness makes you careless. Anger makes you volatile, and together they make you weak. When someone finds your weakness you’re fucked. And that’s how I feel right now, right this instant. Right royally fucked, with bells on.
I look around the street and people are staring at me. Let them fucking stare, see if I care. I’m falling apart with nothing to catch the pieces except the cold, hard ground.
Spotting a bench nearby, I stride over to it and sit my arse down. My head collapses into my hands and I stare at the floor, willing it to swallow me up. Spit me out. God, anything that would stop the fucking fragments unravelling, and the war raging in my mind.
“She must be some woman, eh?”
I whip my head up. On my left sits an old man. The wrinkles lining his weathered face tell a multitude of tales of their own. He’s dirty, unkempt, and the stench from him turns my guts. I don’t answer him.
“Yes, I thought so,” he laughs, and then coughs, one of those coughs that sound like a lung’s going to appear at any second.
“Let me tell you, lad, I fell in love once. She may not have been everyone’s cup of tea, but she was definitely mine.” A glint sparks in his milky eyes. “Red hair, like a sunset, and a smile which could keep me warm on the coldest of days.” And a sad smile creeps on his face displaying his rotten teeth.
I’m not sure why I’m listening to him, but there’s just something about his countenance, which has me rooted to the spot. I should just get up and walk away. He clearly has a screw loose.