Morituro - Book 1

5

| CHAPTER FIVE |

   IT'S BEEN A week since the incident with my boss. I put in a lot of effort staying out of his way and making sure to not get in any alteration with drunk customers. When Avery wasn't on stage or working at the bar, I would ask her to step in for me when drunks would ask for me. She never minded, which I was so thankful for. Avoiding any alteration that would cause Raphael to step in was the plan. The thought of having to face him again in the near future makes me anxious.

A small chiming noise pulls me out of my thoughts. My laptops screen on the kitchen counter turns on, viewing the notification.

Max.

My brothers name fills my heart with warmth and butterflies fly around in my gut. Oh, have I missed him. I feel guilty leaving him back home, but I know it was for the best.

Max:
Where are you?

Layla:
I can't say right now. You know why. Just know that I'm safe and there's a room here with your name on it.

He doesn't reply right away. Instead makes me wait a couple minutes with my mind running wild. When Max gets mad it's so hard to tell what he'll do next. That's one of the few things we have in common, neither of us are predictable.

Max:
Why didn't you tell me?

My chest feels heavy.

Layla:
I had a plan and I just didn't want anything bad to happen. I'm sorry, you know how much I love you. Plz come.

What I need right now is the reassurance that he's safe and willing to come live with me. He doesn't deserve any of the bullshit my parents are surely feeding him.

I don't know what I would do if I found out my father hit him again. Most likely fly back to Utah. Max means so much to me, I couldn't live with myself if I was the cause of his suffering.

-~-

An hour passes with no response from him. Within the hour I cleaned the apartment top to bottom; Something I do when I'm really stressed or anxious. Now the apartment no longer looks like a pig sty, instead a perfect picture from a home and wellness magazine.

I pull my clean dry laundry from the dryer and drop them in the basket. The apartment complex's laundry smells like a moldy basement. I nearly broke a bone when I saw a gigantic spider crawl across the floor, which made me very frantic. Practically ripping my clothes as I race to put them in the basket.

"Woah, calm down." I jump and spin around. Jake wears an amusing smirk on his face as he puts his dirty laundry in a machine. "You're going to hurt yourself."

I roll my eyes, unintentionally, and continue my task. "What's got you so riled up?"

Where do I start? Raphael, Max, and that damn spider. I shrug instead of being truthful, not wanting to start a conversation with him.

I bend down and can feel his eyes on my ass. I scowl but try not to acknowledge it, even though his stare makes my skin crawl. Quickly, I close the dryer and rest the basket on my hip. I race out of the room as fast I as I can speed walk.

Something about Jake makes me want to hurl. I don't quite know what it is about him exactly, but it's there.

Once I'm in my apartment I put the laundry on my couch and open my laptop. Disappointment and anger hits me in the gut. Max never replied but he read it.

I groan and slam the laptop down. I shouldn't have left him there. I should've told him, but if he would've said something to father than I'm sure he would lock us in the basement and throw away the key.

At this point I don't know what I can do to make him realize how sorry I feel. I want him to know that even though I left, doesn't mean I wasn't thinking about him every step I took away from him.

I feel my tears before I realize I'm crying. The stinging in my eyes and sudden stuffiness of my nose is a feeling I haven't felt in a while. I haven't let myself. I can see my mothers face in my head scolding me for allowing myself to become weak. I'm not weak.

But at this moment, it's as if my whole world is crashing around me. I have no one. My brother won't even talk to me, my parents were never there to begin with, and all my old best friends only cared about how heavy my pockets were. In some sick way I know my life would've been simpler if I stayed in Utah.

Because ignorance is bliss.

-~-

EVERYONE HERE KNOWS my name. I'm infamous. They give me looks, some sympathetic others nasty with lust or ill intentions. As I walk around the tables they whisper. Not that they never whispered before, but this time it's different.

"That's the one."

"What a nice piece of ass. No wonder Will couldn't take his hands off her."

"She's just some whore. Will didn't deserve that."

"You can't talk about Don like that, idiota. He will have your head."

"Layla," Sandra calls me from behind the bar. The whispers around me quiet down, thanks to Sandra. Looking around I see the big shady men staring back up at me like hungry wolves. I'm the lamb.

With no hesitation I race to the bar. Sandra gives me a half smile, full of sadness and sympathy. I don't want it. "Take the day off."

This is a side I haven't seen from her before. In fact the only side I've seen from her is the harsh, head strong, manager. I once witnessed her yell at my coworker about spilling drinks, it was the girls first day on the job.

Since Richie thought it was a good idea to up and leave without telling anyone where he was going, Sandra took the position of manger. I have no doubt Raphael played some sort of role in the runaway.

I shake my head, "I'm fine."

She tilts her head and her disappointment shows in her face. "Listen Layla, don't try to play tough guy, 'Ight? I know wha-"

"Excuse me," a large hand presses into my shoulder. I jump in fright and quickly spin on my heels. My fist ready for attack, I pull back and swing. But before it could hit a face it's caught in the large scruffy hand.

The room turns silent as the men and even workers watch in astonishment. The man towers over me in a dark trench coat and gold chain. A scar runs down from the top of his eyebrow to his chin. No hair covers the top of his head and his big puffy eyes scare me. "Calm down, Layla."

His voice is very scratchy and rough. Like he's been a hard core smoker all his life. I've never heard something like it before and I've surely never seen him before.

"How do you know my name?" I ask as I rip my wrist from his hand.

"Don Raphael sent me. I'm to escort you off the premises."

| NOT EDITED |