Page 55 of Forbidden

Chapter Thirteen

Layla

I always thought you are as weak as you let yourself be and you are as strong as the front you put up, and if my real Dad taught me anything, it was to never ever let someone get close. So right now, as Tyson asked me to ask him a question, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

He had proven to me what type of person he was. And it wasn’t the type of person I wanted in my life.

I didn’t want someone that didn’t trust me, someone that listened to rumors and then took their anger out on me or ignored me.

Dad, or Rex, as I called him, my birth father, told me one thing, and it was the only advice I ever listened to. Still to this day I don’t really listen to anyone because of that advice.

His advice was to judge a person’s actions, not their image.

It was his advice that let me trust Cyrus. Even though his image was rough, criminal, biker. But his actions showed love, passion, loyalty and dedication.

Tyson’s actions didn’t speak very well for him. Namely his action of cutting me off like I was a dead body part. Ignoring me. Treating me like shit.

He wanted me to forget that and trust him? All because he thought I had got it on with one of his brothers? So what if I had? I wasn’t his. I wasn’t his girlfriend and my actions were my own.

“Come on, Layla, I’m trying here.” He crossed his arms, looking like he was in pain by putting himself out there. Well, now he knew how I felt when I put myself on the line to talk to him only to be shut down.

He was trying. But his actions had already told me what he was really like. He was jealous. He judged before he asked a question. And he thought of me as property. I didn’t care that he was covered in tattoos that I could see. I didn’t care that he rode for the most dangerous motorcycle club in the country. I didn’t judge him by the image he showed the world. I judged actions.

And I never gave anyone a second chance once I’d seen their actions. So right now, he was asking a lot of me.

He was asking me to go against my better judgment. He was asking me to go against what I’ve always lived by. He wanted me to go against my real dad’s advice.

Could I just once—once only—give someone a second try? Acknowledge his actions but give him a second shot to give me new actions to judge?

Opening himself up to me—that was an action. That showed he was really trying.

I sighed. “Okay.” If I regretted this, I swear I’d never speak to him again.

He grinned. “What’s your question?”

His dad was nearly as terrifying as my real dad. So I did have a question. But I didn’t feel right to ask him. It was best to keep it light.

“Why don’t you have a biker name?” That was light, right? I don’t know. I didn’t do the whole ‘get to know someone’ thing. I didn’t do friends. Having one friend was rare for me. Hannah was my one friend. I still don’t know how we managed to get so close.

“Can’t really live up to the Reaper, so why bother?” he shrugged.

“Well, I’ve been referring to you as Satan. I think you live up to being his son very well.”

He shook his head, looking angry at himself. “Satan. I really made an impression,” he muttered, sounding disappointed but angry at the same time.

I arched my eyebrows. Yep. He sure had.

He sighed and looked me in the eye. “Business question, how much take from each front?”

“Depends on the front. We averaged twenty grand last week. But our drug shipment is due. So it will go up once we get paid.”

“You really know the details, don’t you?”

I tilted my head, staring up at him. “That’s why I’m here and not my dad.”

“Your dad is nearly as terrifying as mine.”

No. He was wrong. My real dad even sent a shiver down Reaper’s spine. Cyrus was upstanding when compared to Rex. But I nodded my head.

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