A Glimmer of Hope (The Avalon Chronicles #1)(8)

“I guess I’ll have to find other entertainment then.”

Layla smirked. “Maybe you could punch out some more people? Thanks for that, by the way. Not for the beating him senseless, just the having my back.”

Chloe raised her coffee. “Always. What about you? You were pretty badass yourself.”

Layla paused, ready to tell Chloe about how she really felt and how much she’d always had the voice in her head, telling her to commit acts of violence, but something stopped her. She wasn’t sure that Chloe would understand. Or how anyone would understand. Would she think she was a psycho? When Layla had been twelve years old, she’d stopped a bully—a fifteen-year-old girl—from beating up one of her friends. Layla had beaten the bully so badly—going so far as to break her wrist—that the name psycho had stuck with her for the rest of her time in school. Right up until the day she’d left.

“My father taught me how to fight from the day I could walk,” Layla explained. “I don’t like to show people what I’m capable of, so I drop it down a notch or two when sparring.”

“Well, you don’t need to do that with me,” Chloe said with a warm smile.

“You heard from Harry?” Layla asked before Chloe could ask about her father.

“He’s chilling out. He mentioned something about having a date.”

“He never said anything.”

“Yeah, well, he kinda likes you, so maybe that’s why. Can I assume you still find that whole conversation to be really awkward and weird?”

Layla nodded. It hadn’t been the finest hour for either her or Harry, primarily because he’d decided to come clean and tell her how he felt about a week after she’d broken up with Blake. It had ended when she’d told Harry that he’d picked a bad time, she wasn’t interested in anyone, which had been true because of the break-up. But now she wondered whether or not things might have progressed between the two of them if the timing had been better.

“You know, Blake was a really big douche. And I told you that after, like, four months of him behaving like a normal person.”

“Really?” Layla asked. “An I told you so, coming from you?”

“Hey, none of my exes were quite as bad as Blake.”

“I’ve got two words for you.” She counted them off on her fingers as she spoke. “Maggie Zayn.”

“Maggie was a little intense.”

“She was nuts. A great big bag of crazy. She asked you to drink her blood.”

“She did. But on the plus side, she was really attractive.”

“And nuts.”

Chloe sighed. “Yeah, she was really something, that’s for sure.”

“She stalked you for a month after you broke up with her. She once came to my old place and asked if you were around.”

“She did do those things, yes. It was a fun time for everyone. Luckily, she eventually got the hint and left.”

“Hint?”

“Okay, I threatened to break her fingers if she didn’t leave my friends alone. Which in itself is a sort of hint. I’d tried asking nicely, telling her I’d contact the police, and anything else I could think of. Apparently threats of physical violence were my last resort. And it was a good thing it worked, because I didn’t want to have to break her fingers. She had lovely, elegant fingers, and she played piano. It would have been a shame.”

“Yes, also I’m pretty sure it’s not legal to do that.”

Chloe waved the sentence away as if it were a mere formality. “I would have managed it. And, worst-case scenario, I’d have been awesome in jail. I’d have come out like a mafia don.”

Layla laughed. “Don Chloe Range. I don’t think that works.”

Chloe joined in the laughter. “I’d have made it work.”

The pair chatted for a few hours until the post dropped through the letterbox to the carpet below. Layla picked up the envelopes and flicked through each one, throwing the junk mail into the bin beside the door. She was down to the last two when she paused and felt a cold shiver run up her spine.

“You all right?” Chloe asked from the sofa.

“It’s from my dad.” Layla’s voice shook as she spoke. “Since Mom died, he sends me a card every year around this date. It’s to say he’s thinking of me at this difficult time. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it before. It’s not something I like to bring up.”

Chloe was up from the sofa in an instant and by her friend’s side. “You okay?”

Layla nodded slowly, walking over to the sofa and sitting down.

“How does he know where you live?”

“I’m the only one on the list of approved contacts. I have to update my address and phone number if I move.”

Chloe sat beside her. “He’s in jail somewhere. Why don’t you get your name removed from the contacts list?”

“I need to be on it. I need the prison staff to let me know when he’s dead. That’s my closure for everything he’s done over the years. Everything he’s in jail for.”

“Do you get anything else from him?”

Layla shook her head. “The agent in charge occasionally sends me an e-mail asking how I am. She’s really nice. Her name is Tabitha. But not from my dad—he’s not allowed access to the Internet.” She glanced down at the small envelope; it weighed heavily in her hand.