“Everyone thought I was dead,” he explains me in a emotionless tone, returning his attention back to the road. We’ve been driving for about an hour, in what direction I’m not sure since I’ve been too distracted to pay attention to anything but Layton. “Even my parents—still do.”

“But why? Why would you fake your own death? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t?” he questions and I start to think of reasons why someone would fake their own death.

“To escape. To disappear,” I say. “But why not run away.”

He’s quiet before, his breathing calculated as if he’s battling to get oxygen into his lungs. When he finally does look at me, I can tell he’s on the verge of losing it. “You remember how you were always asking me about why I started working for Frankie?” he asks me.

I nod. “Yeah, it never made sense to me, not when he was the enemy to our families, at least I always thought so.”

“You’ve always thought that?” he questions with doubt. “That the Catherlson’s and the Everett’s were enemies?”

“Yeah… well, except for the day my….” I swallow the massive lump rising in my throat as tears start to well in my eyes again. It’s been too much of an emotional day. I need to get my shit together. `“The day my mother died and you guys got into the SUV with Frankie. I was so confused… and honestly felt kind of betrayed. But ever since then it never seemed like it was a problem again, not until a few months before… before I was kidnapped and you suddenly started working for him.”

“I had to,” he tells me through clenched teeth. “I didn’t have a choice, Lola. You have to believe that.”

“If that’s true, then tell me why,” I practically beg because I need to know so I can trust him.

He shakes his head, looking as though he’s in physical pain. “It’s so much more complicated then just telling you why I did it. It has to do with so much shit that’s happened since we were fourteen.” He turns the car off the road and into a gravel parking lot, pulling off to the side of a rundown motel where we’re hidden.

I sit up in my seat. “You mean since my mother died?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He puts the car in park, then turns off the headlights “Come inside with me and I’ll try to explain it to you the best that I can. But let me just say I don’t have the answer to everything. I’m still trying to figure stuff out myself.”

“How do I know you’re not here to kill me?” I ask, eyeing the sketchy looking building. There’s not a person in sight and it’s eerily quiet. Not to mention the thick forest within waling distance, convent for hiding bodies if needed. “How do I know that I’m not going to walk into that room and be bombarded by the Dellefontes? Or maybe you’ve take me here to shoot me—make it a discrete kill.”

He gives me a tolerant look. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“To get yourself off the hook with the Dellefontes.” I shrug, pulling off my hood and tousling my fingers with my hair as I glance around the area. “Honestly, I can think of a ton of reasons. And I have to be careful… you know how these things work.”

He exchanges a look of mutual understanding, because he does get it. Cautiousness and paranoia have been breed into us since we were born, otherwise we probably wouldn’t be living in this moment. “I understand you need to be careful… it’s good that you are.” With that he moves his hand around the back of him and takes the gun tucked in the back of his pants. He gives it to me then reaches down to his boots to retrieves his other weapon—a switchblade knife.

Boots.

Wait boots?

Suddenly something dawns on me. “You were there that night, weren’t you? That night with Tenner? You came storming in and pretty much…” Saved me from getting raped.

He gives me his knife, his fingers grazing against the palm of my hand and sending a shiver down my spine, a good kind of shiver, one that gets my blood pumping in a way it hasn’t done for since I took off. “I’ve been around a lot… been watching you for the last couple of weeks.”

He saved me that night from getting raped and I have to shut my eyes for a moment just to see past the emotions stirring inside me, ones I felt when I thought he died, ones that are hard to feel because there so potent and go against everything my mother tried to instill in me. “But how did you find me? I thought I was being careful?”

“A lot of searching,” he says, stuffing his hand into his pocket and taking out his brass knuckles, giving me the last of his weapons, giving me all the power. “I would have found you sooner, but you’re a hard person to find. Which is good, Lola. You did exactly what I wanted you to. I just wish you wouldn’t have went to work for someone that knew who you were.”

“I didn’t know he’d know,” I protest. “I thought he was just… Well, a pimp pretty much.” It feels so weird talking to him about this.

And I can tell it’s bothering him too, but he’s trying not to let it show. “I know that but…” He rakes his hands through his dark hair. “If you would have stayed away from that type of business, it would have never happened.” He isn’t making eye contact with me, instead staring out the window at the forest.

“Does it bother you that I messed up?” I ask. “Or that I was working as an… an escort.”

He shuts his eyes and inhales deeply, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. “You know both of them bother me… you’ve known how I felt about you since we were eighteen.” His eyes open and I expect them to be full of emotion, but they’re empty, like mine have been for the last couple of years.

I try to find words that will make him feel better, but I can’t, so my lips stay sealed. I feel guilty, something I never thought would happen. And all the emotion I shut down while having sex with all those men is starting to chip at the surface. For a moment, I feel… well, ashamed.

Eventually Layton removes the keys out of the ignition. “If you’ll come inside with me, I’ll tell you what I know.”

I stare down at his weapons on my lap. What do I have to lose? There’s nowhere else for me to go. “There’s just one more thing I have to ask you.”

His brow crooks in surprise. “Okay.”

“That guy at the hotel… the one that… well, you know tried to… rape me… What happened to him?”

His gaze darkens and flashes with rage, not directed at me though. “Do you really want me to answer that?” He pauses as I remain motionless in the seat. “He tried to rape you, Lola.” He reaches across the car and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “And hurt you. I’m not going to apologize for what I did.”

I could ask him to tell me exactly what he did to Tenner, but honestly I’d rather not know the details. I can see it in his eyes that Tenner won’t be attacking any women anytime soon, if ever. And as much as I hate to admit it, I don’t even feel that bad about it.

Without saying anything else, I get out of the car with his weapons in my hands, hoping I’m not making a big mistake. Layton doesn’t say a word as he gets out of the car and walks around to the trunk. He pops it and starts digging around in it as I get out and round the back of the car, half expecting to see a dead body inside, perhaps Tenner’s. But there are just a few duffel bags. He picks up one of them up and swings it over his shoulder before moving around the side of the motel with me trailing behind. As we approach one of the room doors, he withdraws a key and unlocks the door. When he enters, he drops the bag on the floor and motions me inside without turning on the lights.

I enter with reluctance, glancing around at the unmade bed, the clothes on the floor, the wrappers and soda cans on the table, and the single lamp turned on. “How long have you been here?” I ask, turning to him as he closes and locks the door behind us.

He shrugs as he pulls the curtain shut. “Since I came to Glensdale about two to three weeks ago.” He looks around as if searching for something then hurries past me and over to the nightstand. I stand near the door, waiting for him to explain to me why he’s been around for that long and not made it aware to me until now, but all he does is start digging around in the drawer. It goes on forever, too long. Whatever he’s looking for, he’s clearly not going to find it.