Chapter 14: I’m Seducing You? (Layla) - Once I Find You

As I ascend the stairs and enter his apartment, I breathe in and feel relaxed at the scent of the room. It smells so much like him; warm and musky, with a hint of lingering cigarette smoke. As I close the door, the sudden tippy-taps catch me off guard as a fluffy dog runs over to me.

“Oh my god! Look at you!” I drop to my knees on the floor immediately, and he all but throws himself against me, desperate for pets. “You are too cute!”

I’m having the time of my life on the floor with him as he excitedly spins around every few seconds to get a new spot scratched, when the front door finally opens. Kane stands there for a moment watching us on the ground and I look up at him with a happy smile.

“Guess you met the dog,” he says. “His name is Bacon. Don’t give him too much or he’ll never let you stop.”

“I don’t want to stop,” I get out with a laugh as he climbs even more onto me. “I love him. I didn’t think you’d have any pets!”

“I didn’t think I would either.”

I stand back up, and Bacon seems to lose the initial infatuation with me to greet Kane happily. “Well, you’re lucky. I wish I was allowed to have a dog at my apartment.”

“Look Layla, let’s not beat around the bush here. You and I need to figure this out. You can’t just…keep showing up unannounced to my shop. Mason is staying here for a while and even if he wasn’t, we had a deal.”

“Well, if you gave me your number then I can text you next time and I won’t have to just show up,” I offer sweetly, batting my eyes.

“Absolutely not. I’m not looking to—” He stops and sighs. “I won’t be able to get rid of you, will I?”

I take a deep breath, preparing to give the mini-speech I practiced in my head on the bus ride here. “I decided that I won’t let my chance at possible happiness pass me. I think you must be a little attracted to me, too. We won’t ever know how we really feel if we just…deny ourselves the opportunity to see what happens, right? So, no. I won’t go anywhere, because I think I’d also want someone to fight for me and not give up easily.”

“Sweetheart, I know you have this image of me being this mythical hero burned in your head, but it isn’t reality. I’m a thirty-nine-year-old retired army veteran turned small-town mechanic. I’ve got no family, nothing exciting going on, and no plans to change where I’m at. Do I even need to mention that I’m a serial killer?”

There he goes again.

Sweetheart.

Eeek! The sound of it coming off his tongue just makes my insides twist.

Okay, come on Layla, focus. This is a serious conversation!

“Well…if we’re talking about what’s wrong with us, I bet my list is longer than yours. I…am the definition of lost and without family. I still go to therapy, but I know I still have some problems sometimes because of what I’ve been through. And maybe I’m a little overzealous. I have nothing except my little apartment. I don’t…have any way to convince you that I’m worth whatever risk you think I am.”

He doesn’t say anything, but I’m hoping maybe I can make him understand me better. I don’t care who he is or what he’s done, or even that he thinks he isn’t worth anything now. I think he’s worth it. I know there’s so much more to him than what he keeps on the surface. Someone who does what he does must have so much underneath.

And after spending the last year or so fantasizing about him and dreaming up my own reasons why and what kind of person he’d be, I’m not going to just walk away. I will know him.

Even if we don’t end up together, at least I got to know the man who changed my life.

“I don’t know what I think of you. I think you’re crazy, and I might be making the biggest mistake of my life by even considering allowing it for even a minute.”

“So…you’re considering it?” I ask, perking up.

“Do you only hear what you wanna hear?”

I nod eagerly, just waiting for the moment he breaks. He’s so close.

“Okay. If I give you my number, you swear not to show up uninvited?” I nod again, and he sighs, pulling his phone out and handing it to me.

I type in my number, name myself, and quickly send a text before he changes his mind. I smile and hand it back over to him.

“‘Sweetheart?’ Really?” When he sees the name I saved myself under, I see the smallest glimpse of a grin peek out from his typical grumpy demeanor.

“I like when you call me that,” I admit, biting my lip.

“Yeah?”

All I can do is smile in response, and he lets out a huff. His massive chest flexes as he puts the phone in his back pocket.

“I’m really not sure what to do with you,” he says, his voice slightly gravelly.

“I could think of a few things you can do with me,” I blurt out boldly.

Who am I and what have I done with Layla?

“You can’t keep trying to distract my frustration with you by seducing me, Layla.”

“I’m seducing you?” Shit, I didn’t mean to ask that out loud!

My embarrassment doesn’t even have a moment to settle as I hear a chuckle from him for the first time since we’ve met. “Yes sweetheart, you’re seducing me. My head is telling me to send you on your way before this goes any further.”

“But?”

“But…my other head is currently straining against my zipper.”

I look down, and quickly back up again, my face burning. He is not joking. I saw the outline of his length under his cargo pants perfectly.

“You okay?” he asks, and I nod like an idiot.

“Yes! Of course! I mean, I’m cool, yeah.” When will I learn to shut up?

“You should just tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he says, his eyes boring into mine.

But I’m not uncomfortable. I don’t ever feel that way around him. I guess I just don’t know how to act? Maybe I’m worried I’ll still suddenly feel weird because I still couldn't even have sex last time.

“I’m not! It’s just that…I don’t know. I know I ruined it when I asked you to have sex with me because I panicked a little. I just…since I haven’t had sex since that, I can’t seem to push it out of my head on my own. That’s why I wanted you to just do it.”

“Look at me when I say this.” He grabs my chin with his large hand, and my eyes meet his before he continues, sounding almost disgusted. “You have never had sex, Layla. What happened to you was not sex. Don’t ever say that shit again, you hear me?”

I nod again, but this time I can feel my eyes burning as they begin to water.

“You don’t deserve for someone to ‘just do it’ with you. When you have sex for the first time it’s going to be because you’re ready, and because it feels good. Do not let anyone, including me, have you unless you feel those things.”

It’s always been easier for me to use the word ‘sex.’ Using the other word means having to tell people out loud what happened to me. Then I have to deal with their obligatory “sorry” and pity and I don’t want to be pitied. I’m okay. I’ve always downplayed it because…it’s much easier for other people to feel comfortable hearing, and it saves me from having to explain myself.

I know it wasn’t small. I know it was bad. But I just don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to look at someone again and admit to them that I was raped. Does anyone even realize how hard that actually is?

“I’m sorry. I just want to feel it. I know if I can just…feel it—” I stop to wipe my wet cheek with the back of my hand. “If I can feel it then maybe I won’t be afraid. If it’s so different from what happened to me, then I’ll finally know the difference.”

“I get it. I didn’t before, but I do now. That still doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck you when you feel like this. When I fuck you, it’ll⁠—”

“When?” I whisper hopefully.

“Goddamnit. Stop doing that to me.” He sighs, but his eyes never leave mine.

Doing what?

“You’re damn tenacious. You should become a lawyer. Or a debt collector.”

I giggle at his attempt at a joke, my anxiety forgotten as I wipe the remaining tears from my face. “Sorry. I just feel really happy. I mean I feel better right now, because of you. I like that you don’t feel sorry for me. Everyone usually does.”

“How can I feel sorry for you?” he says, not missing a beat. “Look at you. You’re here. You have the guts and energy for all this. You…” He stops himself.

“Me?”

“You’re okay, Layla. I don’t know how else to put it. You being here and being okay is more than I can hope for. I don’t think I deserve the credit of being labeled your ‘hero,’ because I didn’t save you. You saved yourself. All I did was try my hand at playing executioner.”

To be honest…I was worse before you did that. I wasn’t really okay. I would go to therapy, and I would smile, and I would be tough because that’s what made people feel more comfortable. I wasn’t good to myself. I barely ate. I barely looked in a mirror or took care of myself. I was scared of everything.

I can’t say it. What would he think of me? Right now, he thinks I’m amazing and strong…and I want that.

“I haven’t seen that face yet.” He tilts his head, and I realize my horrible thoughts must have made me look just as unsavory.

“Sorry.”

“Not gonna tell me?” I shake my head, but he doesn’t push. “That’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to tell anyone shit. You know that?”

I smile, giving one curt nod. “Thank you.”

“You should go.”

What?

“Go? But we’re…” Not doing anything, Layla. I promised myself to act cooler and less needy but I’m not good at it.

He sighs again, looking down at me with a conflicted expression. He steps back and leans against the kitchen island. It’s hard not to watch his hard, built body flex whenever he moves. “I don’t have the balls to tell you to get lost, sweetheart. Whether it’s because I don’t know if you’ll out me, or because I’d feel fuckin’ guilty, or both. You’ve accomplished whatever it is you’ve been doing either way. Happy now?”

I perk up instantly, my downcast expression immediately leaving my face. “Really?”

“This doesn’t mean more than that, got it? Don’t go thinking up any crazy ideas because I said that. I’m not even sure what to do about the whole idea that you’ve somehow found me and…God knows who else may have, too.”

“What? No! I mean I know I told my best friend and I’m sorry, but I really had no choice. She would never tell a soul. And I swear in all the true crime groups I’m in that follow you that no one has any idea. I mean, no one has posted any,” I assure him. Does he really think I would put him in danger?

“Do I even wanna ask about these ‘groups?’”

“Well…maybe I can show you next time you come over.”

Ha. Perfect. It’s casual…not too pushy.

“You might have to. I need to be sure of what you’ve been posting, too.”

“I’ll show you anything! I swear at first I wanted more help finding you…but once I realized I didn’t want anyone else to, I deleted anything that might help anyone else. I promise. I’ll delete all my accounts if you want.”

Okay, relax. Too late to take it back now.

“Let’s just wait to talk about it.” I nod, and we stand there quietly for a moment. It isn’t awkward, but I don’t know what to say.

Well, I do know what I want to say. But I can’t make myself form the words. Just say it, Layla! “Can I stay? Um—I mean just a little longer maybe?” I don’t want to lose this moment with him. I feel like we’ve finally gotten over this hump and if I don’t keep moving, we might slide backward again.

“What do you want, Layla? Because there’s nothing to do here.”

I want you. I want to feel your breath against me again, smell your familiar manly scent as you come way too close, and have you feel how badly I mean that I want you. I want to show you just how much everything you say and do for me makes me feel like a brand-new woman and not some little girl who can’t handle anything. How can I even pretend that I don’t want to jump him after everything he just said to me?

“I just—” You know what? Fuck it! “To be honest, I originally came for a redo.”