Dead of Night

The rain began to rinse them clean, but Lucas didn’t exit her channel.

He pushed her up against the truck, holding her body up with his, his length still buried deep within her.

“What are you doing to me?” he whispered as Layla placed her head on her arms that were resting on the truck.

Layla sighed. “What do you want me to do?”

“You’re like a fucking drug, Little Hippie.” Lucas gently stroked the back of her head before softening enough to pull out, turning her around to help her dress.

“I’m a goopy mess, Lucas.” She giggled, trying to adjust herself before he helped her back in the truck. “Do you still like to buckle me in?”

Lucas deliberately placed his hands all over her body at that moment. “What do you think?”

Layla ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his neck. This stopped Lucas in his tracks; just her touch alone made him feel completely unhinged.

“This can’t go on forever,” she whispered as he pushed away from her and slammed the door, feeling pins and needles through his chest at what she’d said.

But he knew it was true. The little hippie wouldn’t be there forever—she would have to be set free.

She was an annoyance before, but now? Now she was nothing but trouble, but that was the kind of trouble Lucas craved.

“It’s gonna rain soon, but I want to go somewhere,” Lucas said as they drove off.

“When you’re ready to talk about your—”

“I didn’t want him touching what is mine.”

“What’s yours, Lucas?”

“You are.”

Layla shook her head. She now knew she’d bitten off more than she could chew, and there was no going back.

“Lucas, I’m not yours,” she said softly.

“You’re sure as fuck not Paul’s.”

“What am I to you?”

Lucas didn’t say anything because he couldn’t answer her. Shawna was a lover. A few girls he talked to at the party had been one-night stands. But Layla?

Layla knew more about him than any of them, and he didn’t know why.

“Where to?” Layla asked joyfully.

“Are you really okay with what we just did?”

Layla blushed. “Lucas, I would tell you if I wasn’t.”

Lucas nodded. In his mind, none of this was extreme, but his heart knew it was, and he couldn’t really understand why the little hippie was going along with it.

“Why are you here?!” Lucas slammed on the brakes, holding his arm out as a barrier for her. He could feel her body shaking now and wondered if he’d scared her this time.

“Because you want me to be.”

“Do you want to be here?”

Layla smiled. “I would have you take me home if I didn’t want to be here. You know we have to talk about what happened.”

“The fight? Or fucking you?”

“Both.”

Lucas gritted his teeth. “Later,” he told her, feeling her apprehension. “One more stop and I’ll take you home.”

When they pulled into the cemetery, Layla shuddered—not from fear, but cold. Lucas handed her his flannel, which she accepted graciously.

Once they hit the markers he was looking for, Lucas didn’t exit the truck though. “I pay a guy to come out here and take care of them.”

Layla moved closer to Lucas and peered out his window.

“It’s nice to have the light shining on them. Are they buried together or side by side?”

“Together,” Lucas said. “Her parents fucking hated me. Hated everything I stood for, everything about the military…”

“Why?”

“I’ve been called a killer far more than I can recall.”

“And that’s why…?”

“We got married right after she found out she was pregnant,” Lucas admitted. “I thought it was the right thing to do. I didn’t force her or anything.

“Lucy was happy, or at least that’s what she said. Her parents were not, and unfortunately, she also got the brunt of their dismay when I was away.”

Layla took his hand into hers as he continued talking about something he hated to discuss.

“I was almost ready to go on leave when she went into early labor, and the complications were just too much.” Lucas sighed. “Too young to die. Her family moved away years ago. I think they passed on, to be honest.”

“Do you blame yourself?” Layla asked.

“Every day. I figured if I was here, I’d be able to save them both, but I was just a kid. I don’t know if I loved her or if I wanted to be a dad, but I would have taken care of them for the rest of my life.”

Layla softened. She wasn’t sure how to console him, but his grief wasn’t that of losing them, it was not being able to protect them.

“Her parents felt guilty too.”

“What?”

Layla nodded. “I’m sure it isn’t easy burying a child. You had to. Of course they probably felt helpless when there was nothing they could do to save her or”—she leaned over—“Dylan Daniel.”

“Daniel is my middle name,” Lucas told her. “He was a beautiful boy.”

“I’m sure he was precious.” Layla nodded.

Lucas sighed. “I decided then I didn’t want any more children. I don’t really know why except for I’d probably be a terrible father.”

“Would you have been a terrible father to Dylan?” Layla asked softly.

Lucas glared at her. “I-I guess not. Fuck if I know!”

He was getting upset, but it had taken him five years to get back to that place.

He put the truck in reverse and sped out.

“I’ll send my guy tomorrow,” he mumbled as they made their way back to Layla’s. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me tonight?”

Layla smiled. “Do you need me to?”

Lucas would have loved more than anything for her to stay by his side, but he suddenly felt like he was showing her too much of himself.

“Maybe it’s not a good idea.”

Lucas gave her no chance to react as he helped her out of the truck and walked her to the porch. “I’ll make it up to you, Little Hippie.”

“What?”

“Tonight. Maxwell’s. I’m not used to being a calm man,” Lucas admitted.

Layla smiled. “You’re getting there.”

***

The next morning was bright and sunny.

Lucas didn’t sleep well, and he certainly didn’t expect to get up, get dressed, and go to the cemetery.

What he also didn’t expect was to find her there, holding dozens upon dozens of daisies, all multicolored.

“What are you…?”

Layla smiled. “I knew you’d show up today.”

Lucas just stared at her. How could she know? There was no way she was that intuitive.

Layla handed him some flowers to place on the grave. “I’m sorry if I crossed the line, Lucas.”

Lucas swallowed hard. He really didn’t know whether or not he needed a drink, a fight, or to toss her into the back of his truck and have his way with her.

“You—you didn’t cross any lines. No one’s ever come here with me before. I’m typically not in the best of moods.”

Layla put a comforting hand on Lucas’s arm. “Little hurdles are okay to jump first.”