“Jesus, how could I be so stupid,” she mutters under her breath. “I should know better.”
“It’s an easy mistake to make.” I look out the window at the clouds covering the sky and showing the land. “And you’re not used to this kind of stuff.”
“Still… why do you think they’re here…” She pauses, then exhales. “He thinks you’re going to come to me for help.” It’s not a question, but a revelation about my father. “Lola, just how much trouble are you in? Please just tell me what happened. Maybe I can help.”
“It’s better if you don’t know,” I tell her, then swallow hard. “In fact, I think it’s probably better if I don’t call you anymore… I don’t want to bring you into this mess anymore.”
“Lola, I want to help—”
I cut her off. “Bye Glady. I love you.” I hang up before she can say anything else. Then I pull the battery out of the phone and toss it into the garbage can, knowing it’s what I have to do to protect not only myself, but the ones I love.
Everything single part of my body aches, like my bones are splintering apart, my lungs shriveling—dying and taking my heart right alone with it. It feels like I should be crying, but instead I feel cold. Numb. I want to get revenge. Track down Layton’s killer and kill him myself. I wonder if I could do it? Kill again. If I was this dead inside them maybe.
Go back.
Stay.
Run.
What the hell should I do?
There’s so much emotion flaring through me, hot, potent, just like the night I killed someone. It’s too much. Life is too much. I want it gone.
Shut if down. Shut if down. I don’t want to feel the pain of death again.
I was able to do it before, when I killed someone, but this time, no matter what I tell myself, no matter what I refuse to feel, Layton is dead and that fact in itself hurts more than anything else I’ve ever experienced. The guy I grew up with, who made me smile, who protected me from everything, even myself, the guy who told me he loved me and I couldn’t say it back is gone forever.
I could have loved him, but now I’ll never know. I wouldn’t even let him kiss me. God, if he was here again, I’d let him kiss me.
As that thought replays in my head over and over, I feel part of myself die too. And I know I’ll never be the same again—that part of me died right along with him.
So I do the only thing I can.
I run.
Refusing to look back.
Refusing to ever feel anything again.
Chapter 2
18 months later….
Lola
I’m not sure who I am anymore. Lola. Lolita. Good? Bad? Somewhere in the middle? All this time running from death and I think I might have landed somewhere in the middle. One of those women who see in blurry color, half good and half bad. Half alive, half dead inside.
God I feels so dead inside. But it’s good. It’s what I deserve.
During the day when the sun is up, I’m Lola Benntingson, the secretary at a car dealership. I wear longer skirts, collar shirts with sleeves that conceal my tattoos. My hair is either loose at my shoulders or pulled back in a bun. So sophisticated. So proper. This is how I have to be, in order to survive life. And the same goes for so my nightlife. The one that I make a lot of money fast, the one I feel more comfortable in because it helps take the pain away for a moment. The one where I’m, Lolita Leigh, the escort who men pay to take out and then have sex with, following right in my mother’s footsteps I guess. It’s life I can’t let anyone know about, because if I allow too many people know Lola Leigh, draw too much attention to myself, then they discover my real name, which is neither my day or night name. And if the wrong people found out my real one, I’d be dead. Dead like Layton.
God, every time. Stop thinking about him!
“Earth to Lola.” Marla Walterford, a secretary at Danni and Dony’s Hot Deals Dealership, waves her hand in front of my face, jerking me out of my daze.
I blink my attention away from the computer screen, which I’ve been staring at for God knows how long. She’s twenty-five, two years older than me, but looks at least seven or eight years my senior mainly because she wears the wrong shades of makeup and likes to wear sweater sets and slacks.
“What’s up?” I ask her, pretending to sort through files stacked on my desk, like I’m actual doing something instead of staring off into empty space, thinking about a guy I may have loved but will never ever know for sure.
She gives me a fake smile, the one she uses on me everyday. There’s a smudge of pink lipstick on her teeth and a flake of what looks like lettuce. “Danny wants to see you in his office,” she says.
I arch my brow as I set the folders aside. “What for?”
She shrugs, rolling her eyes, but then catches her blunder and plasters the grin back on her face. “He didn’t say why. Just that he needed to see you.”
I set a stack of files aside. “Maybe he’s finally going to give me those extra hours I’ve been asking for.”
“Maybe… or maybe he’s cutting them back. He has been talking about letting a few people go,” she replies and I can hear the hope in her voice, like she’s crossing her fingers that the reason. “But don’t worry. I’m sure there’s a ton of other jobs out there for you.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s the extra hours thing,” I say. I’ve been wanting more hours at both of my jobs to make more money so I can move again of I need to. It happens every so often. Things get sketchy and I have to bail. But moving cost money, especially when I have to pay in cash for everything and pay in full since I refuse to give out my real name and let people do background checks. Getting this job was just pure luck and it’s nice to bring in extra income. My other job was much easier to get, the whole business as sketchy as my father’s job. Between both jobs, I’ve managed to stash away some cash but I’m going to need more.
“Well, I guess you’ll find out.” Marla’s struggling to keep a cheery tone and a snide tone is slipping through.
I keep my sweet smile on as I stand up and adjust my skirt to a more appropriate work-length, which causes her to scowl. “Is something wrong?” I ask, smoothing my shoulder length black hair into place. I used to have streaks of color in it, but decided to dye it in an attempt to blend in with society more.
Her lips turn upward, but the hatred burns in her eyes. “You look super cute today.”
“Thanks.” I give her a smile, which only seems to annoy her more, but honestly I’ve got more shit to worry about than whether or not Marla likes me. So I head for Danni’s office. The door is open, so I rap my hand on the doorframe. “Knock, knock, knock,” I say and Danni glances up at me from the computer, startled.
“Lola, please come in..” Danni says, motioning for me to enter. He’s a nice guy and boss, about sixty years old and is married to the nicest women I ever met, Mary Lou. I’ve kind of broken my rules by getting to know them. When I’d ran off, I’d made a promise not to get to know anyone enough to get attached, not only to keep my identity a secret but also to protect them just in case I was found. “Have a seat.”
I sit down in the chair and cross my legs. “Marla said you wanted to see me about something.”
He nods, grabbing a cookie off a plate that’s on his desk. “Want one? They’re chocolate chip.”
“Sure.” I take one from the plate. Biting into it, my taste buds enter heaven. “Jesus, these are good. Did Mary make them?”