Chapter 17: Easy Access (Kane) - Once I Find You

The shop stayed busy enough through the week, and I’ve been taking whatever time I can to show Mason the ropes. He’s a hard worker, but I’m not sure he’s ready to work on a car by himself yet. He needs full instructions and he can’t diagnose shit on his own, but he’ll get there.

I’ve let myself ponder him staying. I don’t feel as adamant about him going back as I was, but I still just don’t see why he’d leave the city and the life he was making just to be in this crap town with me. I want him to get settled, meet a nice girl, and have a normal life.

I’m not sure I can give that to anyone.

I’m still undecided, anyway. I feel so goddamn confused. Between Mason and Layla, I don’t think I can continue my killings. I don’t even know if I’m fucking okay with that. I don’t feel like I’ve done everything I can do.

And what if I stop, and everyone knows I have, so more shit goes down?

I’m not stupid enough to think that the justice system will ever change. They will do as they always have—catering to the evil and deranged. Because underneath their elitist masks, they’re the same type of people. The same ones who get off on abusing women and children. The same ones who find camaraderie in the ones who stand before them in court. Why do you think they don’t bring the hammer down the moment it’s proven?

But I don’t mind being the hammer. I like being the hammer. Moreover, I want to prove that I can be. I guess…what I know of Layla, it makes me feel a sense of pride. I’d never ask for details, but I can only assume based on the public records. Which I may have checked again. I can’t help but feel good that I’ve brought her a sense of security.

I never let myself think of the countless survivors and victims whose lives I’ve changed. If I do, I start imagining them. If I stop the killing, what will I be? Who am I without it? I barely feel like I deserve the fucking air I breathe if I stop. Like if I don’t spend the rest of my gifted days here being useful, that my life is pointless.

“You fixin’ to keep rubbing that till it breaks in half?”

Mason’s voice rips me out of my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been sitting here polishing the same spot on this car this whole time. I shake my head, standing up and tossing the towel on the workbench.

“Lost in thought? ‘Cause it’s her birthday?”

Shit. I spaced that completely. “No, just a lot of shit on my plate, Mas.”

“I thought maybe you were thinkin’ about how she’s about to get wasted and maybe hookup with some guy.”

“Yeah, shithead, thank you,” I grumble, wiping my hands on my jeans and passing him to get to the counter. “And she isn’t hooking up with anyone.”

“Why? It isn’t like you’re obliging. Seriously, what kind of idiot man turns down a woman begging for it?” He laughs, shaking his head at his own hypothetical question.

“The ones who don’t like to take advantage of vulnerable women,” I remind him.

“Or, maybe the one who is afraid of what being with her implies, but pretends it’s because of her that he isn’t doing it.”

Goddamn him. “Mas, mind your business. I don’t need you poking me like that. Shit isn’t simple.”

“I guess it isn’t simple. But I can at least say that she seems like she’s genuine about you. You’re not still thinkin’ she’s going to yap to someone, are you?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t think she would on purpose, at least. She’s the type to talk without thinking. One fucking wrong sentence to the wrong person, and I’m done. Besides that, she’s on all these… ‘true crime’ groups online. Who knows, Mas.”

“She’d never do that. I bet she’d do whatever you said, anyway.”

“And that, might be the problem. I’m not qualified for that. I already—” I’m about to say that I already failed at taking care of someone. I let Mel down. Now what, I take in some young girl who clearly needs guidance and someone to hold her hand through life? I fucked that up before. I’m not good at being there for someone.

“What happened to them was not your fault, Kane. You and I were deployed.”

“Yeah, well I shouldn’t have fucking gotten deployed. I should’ve run back home the moment Mel asked me to.”

“Mel was an adult⁠—”

“She needed me! She fucking—” I stop myself, taking a breath to lower my voice. “She was alone, raising a little girl, and she was in over her head already. I thought supporting her financially was enough, and that I’d enjoy my time with them whenever I had the chance. It wasn’t enough, though. Not when that fucking…”

When my words die out, I feel his hand on my shoulder. “It’s alright. You didn’t know. No one knew. It was random, Kane. You can live the rest of your life whining about what you could’ve done, but now look. The world just placed a do-over into your lap. Layla needs you.”

Layla needs you.

I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think of it like that. I don’t know what the fuck I think anymore.

“Come on old man, let’s make dinner and clean up. I wanna enjoy the weekend.”

* * *

By the time my eyes open again, I find myself passed out on the couch where I’d been with Mason. He made me watch some boring movie again, and I couldn’t help myself. I stretch my arms, turning my head to crack my neck and sit up a bit. Fuck, what time is it anyway? I wonder if she’s still out.

I reach for my phone, and my heart sinks.

Six missed calls. Two voicemails. Even more texts than that.

I sit up straighter, immediately going to click on the voicemails. The first one is short.

“Ahh Crys, not that one! Oops, Kane! I was wondering…maybe you should come. My friend’s girlfriend is coming and I guess I…stop! I said I didn’t want that!” She laughs, and the voicemail ends abruptly.

I quickly click on the next one. “Sorry I called you a loooot…I don’t know. I’m standing outside because I just wanna go home. I missed the bus and Crystal left with her girlfriend…and the taxi was kinda expensive. I wanted to ask for a ride but you’re probably asleep. I think I’ll walk a few blocks over to check the subway times. I just um, I wanted to say that I’m sorry for sending so many texts and um, calling so much. I know it’s annoying. I guess now I’m sitting here alone with my drunk thoughts and realizing that maybe I’m—what? No, sorry I’m okay. I’m…waiting for my ride. Huh? No, I⁠—”

And it ends. Who the fuck was she talking to? Some random person? It must have been if she lied about having a ride. Why didn’t she call again? Why does all communication fucking stop?

I’m already grabbing my keys and heading downstairs. I scroll through her texts, which are mostly drunk babble. Except one.

Layla needs you.

Shit. What if she accepted a ride from someone? What if she walked all alone in the dark, drunk and fucking vulnerable and someone took advantage of her? Took her and…

I don’t know where to go. Do I go to the club? These are from two hours ago. Should I check her place instead? My adrenaline is pumping harder than it has in years. Goddamn her, why isn’t she picking up? Why is her phone fucking dead now?

I decide to drive downtown and pass the nightlife but I don’t see much. It looks like people are calling it quits for the night and heading home. Fuck, I don’t see her. Do I get out and look? No. Check if she’s home first.

I quickly drive to her apartment, and I throw my truck in park and hop out, the door slamming. Please, fucking be here. The broken door allows me entry, and I walk up the flights of stairs until I reach her door and pound on it.

After a minute, the sound of locks sliding through metal hits my ears, and the door slowly opens. “Kane?”

When I hear her voice, relief floods my entire body. Thank you, God. I move forward, fully opening her door to pull her against me. “Fuck, sweetheart. Why is your phone off?”

“Oh, um, it’s on the charger now, it took forever to get home so it died. Did…you call me?”

“Did I call you? You called me, Layla. You told me you were all but abandoned in the middle of the damn night at a club downtown, and then you went MIA. Why did you do that?”

“Sorry, someone ended up offering me a ride and then he wouldn’t really leave me alone so…I went on my way to walk to the subway, but then I guess the train was down. So I had to keep walking until a bus came, because only one was running, and⁠—”

“Why didn’t you plan this better? Why would your friend just leave without you?”

“Well, I told her to, because her girlfriend started not to feel well. Well, I think she just didn’t like me, so…”

She rubs her arm, and I let out a breath. Fuck, I was so stressed. I fucked up so badly. I should’ve stayed up longer. I knew she was going out tonight, I should’ve anticipated that she’d need me. “I’m sorry.”

She tilts her head. “Huh? For what?”

“For not answering. I should’ve been there. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“What? That isn’t your fault. I was being an airhead anyway…I spent the last of my money on drinks so I couldn’t order a ride. I was stupid,” she explains with a smile.

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

“For money?”

“Anything. You can’t just…go out and fucking strand yourself somewhere in the middle of the night, Layla. Do you know what could’ve happened to you?”

“Sorry.” Her voice is quiet, and I know I’ve been raising mine. I take a breath, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Don’t do that to me again. I thought you were in danger.”

“Were you really that worried about me?”

Was I worried? “Look at me. I just fucking drove through all of downtown looking for you before I came here. Never. Again. Do you hear me?”

She nods, and I relent. I take a moment to look her over, and shit. “This is what you wore tonight?” She nods again. “You seriously walked yourself around downtown at ungodly hours of the night in that?”

“Do you not like it?” Her voice is small again, and she looks down at herself.

Fuck, I don’t know how to talk to women.

“I like it, okay? But I’m worried about who else likes it. The type of scum who gallivant around at that time of night in this part of town, sweetheart.”

“Are you mad?”

I want to say, “fuck yes.” But seeing her like this, looking up at me with those sad eyes, I can’t. “No, I’m not mad at you. I was scared, alright?”

“I’m happy you came. I mean, I thought you were ignoring me tonight because I was being annoying.”

“You’re not annoying. I fell asleep watching some movie with Mason. I…If I had heard your first voicemail I would’ve been there.”

“Really?”

God, what am I even doing now? I keep telling myself I’m on the fence of what to do with her, and then when she’s in front of me as sweet as ever I just fucking fall. “Don’t think this means I’ll be going out to clubs.”

She laughs, nodding as she steps closer again. “So, you’ll stay, right? It’s late.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Please? It’s my birthday! Well, it was. But it still counts, right?” I sigh, and she celebrates already, as if I said yes. She takes my hand in her smaller one and pulls me deeper into her apartment to lure me away from the door. She pulls me clear to her couch, positioning me like a mannequin, so I oblige and sit. She follows, sitting right onto my lap.

Her dress is so short that it all but rides completely up, showing me the glimpse of pink underneath them covering her hips. My hands move to her ass instinctually, tugging slightly on the fabric. “This is all you wore under?”

“Easy access?”

My hand comes down on her ass, not hard enough to hurt, but a warning. “For who?”

“You, daddy. I wanted you to come and see what I wore for you.”

Fuck, I can’t help it. Maybe it’s because I’m still tired, but I have no fight left in me. “You want me to believe you wore this for me?” She nods, biting her lip. “I don’t believe you.”

“I only want you,” she admits breathlessly. “I…have never wanted anyone else.”

Usually when someone says that, you take it with a grain of salt. No one means that. You just feel so much in the moment, you think you feel that way. But with Layla…I wonder if that’s true. I wonder if that’s why she’s so determined to tempt me.

And fuck if it doesn’t feel good to be wanted by her.