Hurdles

Layla lingered a few feet behind Lucas as he laid the rest of the flowers on the grave.

When he was done, they stood there for a time in solemn silence. Lucas took her hand, clasping her fingers with his own.

“Take me to your fight,” Layla finally said.

Lucas shook his head.

“I don’t fucking think so.”

Layla sighed. They both knew she could go on her own, but Lucas forbade it.

“I have to help you, Lucas, and I know you’re going there tomorrow night.”

Lucas rubbed his hands on his jeans, gritting his teeth and glowering at her.

“I’ll stay the night with you tonight and tomorrow night if you stop telling me what to do.”

Lucas sighed. She was playing him at his own game. “What if I still said no?”

“What if I still showed up?”

“Then I’d have my way with you in that dressing room.”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Lucas didn’t understand what was happening with this girl. He’d never felt the urge to be his real self around anyone like he did with her, to protect or jump through hoops for anyone—save for his Army buddies, and look where that had gotten him.

Survivor’s guilt from hell.

“So many times I should have died,” Lucas muttered, recalling his time in combat as well as the deaths of his young wife and unborn child.

“Could have, not should have,” Layla scolded gently. “What makes you think your life doesn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t.”

“It matters to me.”

“Then you’re delusional,” he told her. “You care too much about someone who’d rather push you away than keep you close.”

“Maybe I am delusional, but answer my question. Can I go to the fight?”

Lucas shook his head. “You don’t need to watch that shit.”

“Then maybe you don’t need to go.”

Lucas hated when he was one-upped, but it was almost a turn on when it came to Layla. “Fine, but I’m taking you, and you’ll stay with Shawna and my crew. “

“Shawna’s going to be there?”

Lucas laughed as he helped her into her car. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not the only dick she likes.”

“Oh.” Layla blushed, suddenly feeling a tinge of jealousy and realizing Lucas was grinning mischievously at her. “Well, I, um… Are you staying a bit longer?”

Lucas looked around. “Not too much longer. I can only take so much today.”

Layla massaged his hand that had lingered on the door ledge. “You did well today, Lucas. Little hurdles.”

Lucas watched as she drove off, suddenly feeling very alone and needing a drink.

It was barely noon, but he knew exactly what he wanted for brunch. He could already taste the whiskey as he took one last look at the grave and hopped in his truck to go home and get wasted.

***

Layla tidied up her room a bit, still unpacking boxes from her move away from Paul. She hadn’t told Lucas he was messaging her again, pleading for her to come back.

Lucas was already making too much progress to hear about her troubles, or at least that’s what she thought.

She was supposed to meet Paul at the park to sort things out. There was no getting back with him, but she wanted to hear what he had to say.

***

“I missed you,” Paul said as he tried to embrace her.

“Paul, you said you had some things to tell me, so tell me.”

Paul motioned for her to sit down next to him, and she did, but she allowed a lot of room in between them.

“I love you, Layla. You know we’re meant to be together. It’s bullshit that you left me.”

“I left you because I literally caught you cheating on me, Paul.”

“I am a man who has needs, Layla. I heard through the grapevine you’ve got no problem with showing Lucas Foster another side of you. Why can’t you do it for me?”

“You demanded it.”

“So it is true? Nothing but a little slut, right? What’s it been? Two? Three weeks?”

“Paul, this isn’t helping your case at all.” Layla tried to remain calm, and the more calm she was, the more outraged Paul became.

“Wait! Did Lauren dump you?”

Paul grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her into him. “Lauren is an asshole who just wanted my money. You’re the one I want. I screwed up, and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“You’re sorry you got caught!” Layla threw her hands up. “Lucas told me how many women he’s seen you with.”

Paul tugged at her arm, causing her to wince. He pulled her off the bench and held her close, but his nails dug into her skin like needles.

“Let me go!” Layla tried to wiggle free, but Paul was too strong for her. “You need help, Paul.”

“I will go get help if that’s what makes you come back to me! You can’t possibly tell me you feel safe with Lucas Foster!”

She did though. Even through Lucas’s tantrums and breakdowns, Layla was not afraid—yet.

“Tell me when you’re ready to get help, and I will be right by your side—as your friend, Paul.”

Paul seethed, but then a calm rushed over him as he looked at the woman he still loved.

“I love you so much. I was so wrong to bring you pain.” He put his forehead against hers and sighed. “This certainly didn’t go the way I’d planned. Come get a coffee with me.” He was almost pleading.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Layla finally freed herself from his grasp and stepped away. “Call me if you need to talk. Everyone deserves an ear.”

***

Lucas had tidied up the house, ready for Layla to come over. He had even put on a roast after returning from the cemetery.

“Little hurdles…,” he kept whispering to himself, although he did finish off his bottle of whiskey.

It was nearing six in the evening, and he was anticipating her arrival. When he heard her car pull into his drive, his stomach knotted. That hadn’t happened to him in years.

“Calm down, Foster…”

He watched her pull a bag and her purse out of her car. It took everything in his power to make it look like he hadn’t been watching out for her.

“Hi! I’m sorry I’m late,” Layla said as Lucas took her bag to the bedroom.

“You’re right on time,” he said, studying her face. It had the same beauty, but she looked a little tired. He wondered if he was wearing her down. “Are you feeling well?”

“Oh, yes! Just a lot of work this week.” She barely looked at him when they entered the kitchen. “Smells great!”

“Thanks.” Lucas noticed her rubbing her shoulder. “Tough day?”

“I was unpacking some of my stuff today.” Layla peeked into the Crock-Pot and smiled. “I love that you didn’t cut the potatoes.”

Lucas felt pretty proud of himself, and all it took was Layla to tell him how great dinner was even before she ate it.

“I drank today.”

She turned around and smiled. “Did you want to tell me?”

“No, but it just felt right.”

Layla nodded. “I brought some stuff to make cupcakes. I noticed you had some frosting.”

Lucas kept eyeing the droop in her arm. “What the fuck did he do?”

“What?” She turned around, and he was on her in a flash.

“Let. Me. See.”

Layla reluctantly pulled her shirt over her head, and the bruises Paul had left came into view.

“He’s just—”

“Stop fucking making excuses for that piece of shit!” Lucas roared, running his fingers over her shoulder.

His touch was warm, and she’d no idea why, but Layla threw herself into his arms, which caused Lucas to stiffen. He didn’t want this. He didn’t need this.

“How am I supposed to protect you if you keep going to him?”

“Why do you want to protect me, Lucas?”

Lucas didn’t know. Maybe it was to make up for the all of the other people he’d destroyed in his life.

“I don’t want to drink right now and I don’t want to fuck, so get your coat because I’m calling Tim.” Lucas turned off the Crock-Pot and turned to her.

“You want me to show you what’ll happen the next time he puts his hands on you? You just wait until I step into that ring.”