“Riggins Enterprises, this is Layla.”
“You got my package?” my mother's raspy voice greets me.
“Yes. Where did you get those?”
She laughs. The sound is pure evil, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. “Little girl, I told you. You’ve been making me money.”
“What does that mean?”
“When you turned eighteen, I lost the money that the state was giving me for putting up with you, so I had to improvise.”
“What money?”
She cackles. “Welfare, little girl. I got paid to keep you.”
“Then why didn’t we have food or clothes?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“You had a roof over your head, you ungrateful bitch. I needed the rest of that money.”
“For drugs? For booze? I’m your daughter,” I say, my voice growing stronger as my anger takes route.
“You had no idea that we recorded you. We get a pretty penny for your showers on the internet.”
“W-What?” I choke out over the lump in my throat. “What do you mean?”
“I mean those are pictures of the videos we stream of you. Don’t worry, doll. We don’t show your face. At least not yet. If you don’t get me my money, I’ll have your face plastered all over the internet. What do you think your little billionaire and his family will think about you then?”
“I hate you.” The words fly out of my mouth. “Why are you doing this to me? You’re my mother.”
“You were income, little girl—nothing more, nothing less. And now you’re going to be my big payday. I want a million dollars cash by the end of the day on Sunday, or we tell the world who you are.”
“I can’t get that kind of money.”
“Figure it out.”
“N-No. I won’t do it. I won’t take from him, or any of them to feed your habit.”
“You will do as I say.”
“I’m an adult. You can no longer control me. Go fuck yourself,” I say, slamming the phone down on the base. I’m breathing heavy, and my heart is pounding so hard I’m afraid it might beat right out of my chest.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath in and slowly exhale. I repeat this over and over until I feel as though I have control. That’s when the reality of my situation sets in. She’s going to expose me for something I’m not. I need to decide what to do.
I don’t know how I’m going to face Owen and his family. On the other side, I can’t leave them either.
I’m going to fight back. That’s my only choice. Leaving Owen isn’t something I’m willing to do. Not without giving him the chance to decide for himself. I should be selfless and leave, but I love him too much.
I need to get my thoughts in order. Then I’ll go to the police. I’ll tell them everything, surely, they can help me. It’s going to get out one way or the other. I refuse to take money from Owen or his family, not for her. Not like this. I just hope Owen and his family understands, and they’re still here with me when this is all said and done. I’m going to embarrass them, and it’s going to look bad on Riggins Enterprises. I know the chances are slim, but it’s a chance I have to take. They’re more family to me than my own mother, and if they ask me to leave, I’ll go quietly.
I’ve never been happier than my time here in Nashville. I’m not giving that up unless I have to. I need to figure out how to tell them. Maybe after I go to the police, then I’ll know more of how this is going to be handled, and maybe if I plead with the police, they can keep it out of the media. I’m a minor in some of those images and videos. My stomach rolls yet again, thinking about the perverts who’ve been watching me online. Even if there are not videos, she has the pictures.
I refuse to remain a victim of my circumstances of my mother. It’s time to fight back. At least I’ll know I stood up for what was right. I just hope I don’t destroy my heart and happiness in the process.
Picking up my phone, I call Marshall. I could walk back to his office, but I don’t want to see him or Sawyer. I just need to get out of here. “Layla,” he greets me. His voice is harder than usual.
“Hi, Marshall. I’m not feeling well. I’m going to go on home. Can you tell Owen for me if he comes back to the office?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just think I need to lie down.”
“You need me to drive you?”
“No, that’s okay.” Shit, I forgot I don’t have a car here.
“Take Owen’s car. He rode with Royce. We’ll make sure he gets home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. You know he would rather you do that than Uber.”
“Thanks, Marshall.”
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.
“I’m sure. I’ll see you on Monday, if not before then.”
“Text me and let me know you make it home okay.”
“Will do. Bye.” I end the call.
Grabbing my purse, I make sure I have the spare set of car keys for each of Owen’s cars that he insisted I have. Luckily, I find them in the bottom of my purse. Next, I unlock my bottom drawer and retrieve the envelope that has the pictures. The evidence that I’ll be presenting to the police later this afternoon.
I just need a minute to myself. To process what’s going on, and how I might lose the love of my life and his family over this.
Chapter 27
Marshall
I told myself that I wasn’t going to hover over Layla today. Owen and Royce are protective of their women. If she says she’s fine, she’s fine. However, I told him I would take care of her, and I meant it. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s lunchtime. Saving the document I’m working on, I head to Layla’s desk to see if she feels like eating anything.
I stop when I hear her voice. “I hate you.” I’ve never heard Layla talk like that, and the venom in her voice tells me she means those three words with everything inside her.
“I can’t get that kind of money,” she says.
Who in the fuck is she talking to? She’s obviously on the phone since I don’t hear another voice.
“N-No. I won’t do it. I won’t take from him, or any of them to feed your habit.”
Him? Is she talking about Owen? I move a little closer to try and get a look at her desk. Sure enough, she’s on the phone. Her hand is pressed to her forehead, and she’s visibly upset.
“I’m an adult. You can no longer control me. Go fuck yourself.” She slams down the phone, and I’m ready to go to her to see what the hell is going on, but give her a minute to compose herself. When she picks up the phone again, and I hear my desk phone ringing in the distance, as quickly and quietly as I can, I rush back to my office.
I get to the phone in time to have her tell me she’s not feeling well after all, and that she’s going home. I remind her that she rode with Owen, and insist that she take his car, that I’ll make sure he gets home to her. I know O gave her keys. He was bitching the other day that she wanted to buy a car when he has one that she can drive. I get her wanting her independence, and so does he. He just wants to take care of her.