Prologue

My body shook with silent laughter as he ran his fingers down my back. He flipped me over and stared down at me adoringly.

“God, you’re beautiful.” His voice was husky and smelt of cloves. He must have taken up smoking again.

I didn’t answer him with words, though my lips said it all.

He pulled away a little breathless and asked, “What time…what time are your parents expecting you home?”

I smiled. “Not till six. We have a dinner party to go to tonight at seven.”

He sighed. “You have to go soon.”

It wasn’t a question but I felt the need to answer it though I felt differently. “Yes.” I closed my eyes.

“Damn.” He looked over at the clock sitting on his bedside table. “Four fifty.”

“We have time,” I said running my hands through his hair.

“Yes, yes we do.” He then brought his lips down to mine.

 Chapter One

“Layla, baby come on we are gonna be late!” Rebecca screamed from the living room.
She didn’t have to yell, the walls were paper thin, even if I was upstairs. I could hear her if she whispered.

I could hear my father’s keys rattling. He was going to the car. He knew I was becoming a lady and like all ladies we took a while to get ready. I was currently in a royal blue sweater dress with black leggings and matching ballet flats. The blue went perfectly with my light caramel skin tone. My normal long curly brown hair, which I normally kept in a ponytail, was brushed in silken waves down to the small of my back.

When I was done I went down to the kitchen were Rebecca waited impatiently. I could understand her anger; this auction thing was a big deal to her. It was her work after all and I was making her late. The fact that I had come home thirty minutes late wasn’t any better, but I always lost track of time when I was with Jack. He’d had practice and I couldn’t miss it.

She shooed me to the car and we headed downtown.

Earlier Rebecca had told me there would be a lot of important people there and to not mess anything up. I told her I wouldn’t and she looked toward my father. He looked at me and I promised him I wouldn’t screw this up for her. He was the glue in my mother and my relationship. Well, my step mother and my relationship. My real mother had died when I was eleven. After that my father moved us from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia to the pleasant city of Baxter Springs, Kansas where he met Rebecca Bryson.

She wasn’t anything special. Younger than my father by about five years maybe, shoulder length red hair and laugh lines, though I never heard her laugh enough to prove how she’d gotten them. She was a tall woman, a little too skinny if you asked me, but then again no one ever asked me what I thought anymore.

We arrived to the auction house about five minutes late. Rebecca told everyone it was because of the traffic and they believed her. My father and I sat as she got things in order and settled down the crowded room.

The first few pieces she auctioned off went quickly but when it came to an old rug that looked like someone had taken a crap all over it things started to slow a bit. Her voice seemed to carry on like an old record player being slowed.

When it was finally over we mingled for awhile, moving from white room to white room looking at different paintings and artifacts. I left my parents to look at some painting with a weird red smear on it.

“Very unique, isn’t it?” A man asked from behind me.

I jumped at his sudden appearance.

“Sorry,” he said giving me an apologetic smile.

“It’s alright,” I told him. I moved out of his way and continued to stare at the painting.

“Do you like it?” He asked.

I tilted my head to the left. “I’m not sure. It-it looks like a blood smear. Like someone reached their bloody hand out and just wiped it on a piece of paper. No, I don’t like this. It’s too... simple.”

I looked up to see him holding back a smile. He nodded his head and said, “Interesting. May I ask your opinion on these?” He pointed to three more.

One was a black and white photo of a small girl. She was crying over her dead dog’s body. Another was a painting of a naked woman, but she was grotesque. Her limbs were in the wrong places and her eyes were dark red with black circles around them. The other was a painting of a Gothic home. Not Gothic like the new frenzy of metal but a classic European feel. Red streaks ran from the windows making it look menacing.

“Is this all the same person?” I asked.

He nodded.

“I like them all. The girl, she shows sadness, I feel her pain. The woman, she’s strange, shows we are not perfect. The circles around her eyes say she’s tired of striving to be that way. And the house says don’t come knocking if you hear any screams. Makes me think of domestic violence, maybe?”

He stared at me for a minute then asked, “How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” I replied a little shyly as to why this man was asking my age.

“You think differently than that of a teenager. You mind seems to be…ahead of the game so to speak.”

“I get that a lot.” I shrugged.

“You’re Becca’s daughter, right?”

“Step-daughter actually,” I said brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “And you?”

“Devin.” He extended his hand and I shook it.

“There you are Layla,” Rebecca said. Speak of the devil.

My father was with her though his eyes said otherwise. He looked as if he’d rather be anywhere but here, then his eyes traveled to Devin and our linked hands. Devin released my hand and put his in his pockets. I rolled my eyes.

“Devin, I see you’ve met my step-daughter,” Rebecca said smiling at him.

“Yes, she’s very bright. Plus she said she likes my work so that’s an extra bonus.”

Rebecca laughed while I eyed him. “Your work?”

He nodded.

“Yes, he didn’t tell you?” Rebecca asked. “He’s very talented to only be twenty four. Which is why I’m sad to be letting him go, he’s leaving us to become a teacher.”

“But I’ll still be painting,” he said. “I’ve just always wanted to give back you know? Teaching seemed like a fulfilling job.”

Devin and I smiled at each other.

My father cleared his throat.

“Yes?” I asked looking at him.

“Shouldn’t we be getting home?” He whispered into Rebecca’s ear. “She’s got school tomorrow.”

He did a horrible job of whispering it to her, Devin and I could hear him clear as a bell. He was just in daddy mode right now. He didn’t know I was dating Jack and this was exactly why, he was a little weird when it came to me and boys.

Rebecca laughed nervously and excused them both. She took my father to a different room to probably talk to him.

I on the other laughed a little at my father’s over protectiveness.

“I don’t envy the boy that has to ask you out,” Devin said smiling down at me.

“Which is why I don’t date.” I lied.

“You should, you’re pretty…” I raised an eyebrow. “Intelligent, pretty intelligent,” he finished.
I tried to hold back my smile but couldn’t. A small laugh formed in my throat.

“Sorry, sometimes I forget to finish my sentences.”

“Sure,” I said laughing.

I looked from Devin to see my father coming out of the room Rebecca had taken him in. He didn’t look too happy to see me still talking to Devin.

“Look I’ve got to go, I’ll see you around.”

I walked away and as I did I could have sworn I heard him say, “I hope so.”

The ride home was uncomfortable. My father kept mumbling something like, “Too damn young for him.” He would look into the rearview mirror and stare at me occasionally.

I could tell when he thought I was sleeping, he’d catch himself and smile like he used to do when he watched me sleep. Well, thought I was sleeping. I could feel him watching me and I’d pretend to stay that way. Then I could feel the happiness emitting off him.

When we got home I did my usual routine. Shower, teeth, night to daddy, bed.