Sour Apples

“The drinking isn’t helping you,” Layla said after forgiving him for the millionth time that year.

Paul cradled her in his arms. They’d made love and now they were snuggling together, listening to the rain fall.

“I know,” Paul sighed. “My parents want me to go to with them to the lake house this weekend.”

She knew it was coming. His parents liked her well enough, but they wanted more for their son—more than she could ever give.

“So no Galveston?” she asked quietly, not wanting to stir anything in him.

Paul sighed. “No, but I promise to make it up to you, baby.”

She didn’t believe him, but she wanted to. Her naivety and trust were going to get her into trouble.

“Did you like this?” He pointed to the wig he’d bought her to wear during their lovemaking.

She most certainly did not. She had auburn hair, not blonde.

“Uh, yeah,” she lied. “I want to make you happy, Paul.”

“You do,” he said, untangling himself from her arms and tossing his legs over the side of the bed. “I just thought we’d spice it up a bit.”

Whips and chains would have been better than a wig, she thought. Was she not good enough for him?

“Next time, I’ll get you some lingerie,” he said, walking to the bathroom. “You’ve got the body for some skimpy little numbers.”

She sighed, rolling onto her back. She didn’t mind the lingerie, but she was always so nervous to wear it, and Paul was like an animal when she wore anything sexy. It made her feel cheap, not wanted or beautiful.

“I’ll miss you,” she called to him, but he was already hopping in the shower.

He didn’t even offer her the shower first or to shower with her like he used to. Paul’s mind was up his own ass.

Maybe it was a good thing he was gone most of the time.

Paul’s family had a lot of money. He worked little jobs for his dad, but mainly he went to school and partied.

His part-time paralegal internship had been going well and that was also consuming him, but Paul was a whole new person now.

After showering, she tried to curl up next to him, but Paul had rolled over, facing the opposite direction. It wasn’t new. He’d been distant for months.

Layla found her way to the bathroom again and stared at herself in the mirror. She rarely wore makeup, but the bruise around her eye could be covered with some foundation and powder.

“He’s just stressed.” She teared up. “He’s not usually like this. I-I love him…”

***

“I don’t work here because I want to, Jefferson,” Lucas was saying as he stocked the shelves at Cole’s Super Store, “I do it because no one seems to know what the fuck they’re doing except for me.”

Jefferson, the manager of Cole’s, chuckled. “You are a man of many words, Foster.”

“Yeah. Can I get to this so I can go home and drink?”

Jefferson nodded. He’d known Lucas since they were kids, and the man could do just about damn near anything he put his mind to.

He stocked shelves, was a farmer, drove a delivery truck, had been a boxer, was a bouncer, was an Army vet and a handyman. There wasn’t a thing Lucas couldn’t do, and that’s why people called on him.

“Don’t forget to break down the boxes,” Jefferson called as Lucas walked away to the back of the store.

“Yeah, yeah…” Lucas waved behind him.

He noticed some ladies ogling him when he passed the produce section—one he’d slept with many years ago.

“Ladies,” he acknowledged them, tipping his Cole’s hat and smiling that little flirtatious smile.

The two women smiled back and waved, watching Lucas head into the backroom.

“My God, Lois…,” Joan sighed. “What a man.”

Lois nodded. “I know… I wish I’d been the one he had given his heart to.”

“That man just gets finer every damn day.” Joan sniffed. “I know Lucy was the love of his life, but he needs to find a good woman. It’s been years since he’s had anyone steady.”

Lois agreed. “Hell, I don’t know if he’s had an actual girlfriend. He’s had a few fuck buddies.”

“Like you?” Joan teased.

“He’s an incredible lover.” Lois swooned. “I tried hard to get him to want me for more than that one night, but he doesn’t do commitment.”

“Too bad,” Joan said as they walked toward the checkout. “He’d make anyone happy, I’m sure.”

***

Layla roamed the aisles of Cole’s, grabbing items off the shelf and marking them off from the list her parents had given her.

Humming to herself, she cheerfully placed items in her buggy and waved to Lois and Joan, who stopped to talk about the family and her personal life.

“Girl! That boy better propose to you!” Lois teased. “You deserve happiness.”

Layla blushed. “I’ll keep you updated.”

She continued on to the meat department, trying to find the best deals and fumbling through her purse for her mom’s coupons.

“Here for my meat, eh?”

Layla looked up at Lucas, who was smirking at her. His face darkened when he saw the bruise over her eye. She’d tried hard to cover it, but nothing had worked.

“Well, if this was raised on your farm then I guess I am here for your meat, Lucas.”

He didn’t know what came over him, but he reached out and pushed a strand of hair out of her face.

Layla flinched. “What? What is it? Do I have something in my hair?”

Lucas sighed. “Run into something?”

Layla turned away and studied the meat case. “Yeah, I dropped my cell on my face. You know they tell you not to scroll at night.”

“Must have dropped it from the ceiling then.”

She looked up at him and back to the meat. “I need this.” She handed him her mother’s list.

“I’ll get it for you in a few minutes,” Lucas said, studying the list of fresh meat cuts provided to him.

“Thanks.”

It didn’t take long for Lucas to come back with the wrapped cuts.

“Thanks, Lucas.” Layla wasn’t interested in talking, especially now that he had noticed her bruise. “Have a groovy day.”

“Layla…” Lucas tried to say something, but she was already headed to the checkout.

Pushing her buggy out to the lot, Layla saw Lucas was standing next to her dad’s truck.

“What are you doing?” she asked, unloading the buggy.

“My job.” He was faster and began taking two or three bags at a time, placing them into the bed of the truck. “I figured I can torment you more if I’m pretending to be a gentleman.”

“Oh, okay.” Layla wasn’t paying him any mind. “Well, thank you.” She kept her head down and walked past him.

“Stop scrolling on your phone so much, Layla. It’s bad for your health.”

Layla glanced at him, their eyes locking for a moment. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He watched her drive off, not sure if the surge in his cock was because he wanted to taste her right there in the parking lot or if the thought of breaking Paul’s neck was turning him on.

Lucas had some weird outlets for his rage, but it seemed to work.

***

Layla drove out to her parents’ house, noticing Lucas’s truck following closely behind her. He pulled into his driveway and she continued on, making the quick drop while her folks were at work at their dairy farm.

She took Dinah out and played with her, feeding her some treats, and then folded a bit of laundry.

Tuesdays were Layla’s day off, but she enjoyed doing things for others, especially her parents.

They were coming up on retirement soon and were looking forward to setting up their own nurseries and craft store. Layla joked that that wasn’t much of a retirement, but her folks were always on the go.

She heard a knock at the door, and Dinah started barking wildly.

“Good dog.” Layla patted her on the head before peeking out.

Lucas.

She opened the door and smiled. “All you need is in the back.”

Lucas looked her up and down. “You sure about that?”

Layla smiled. “My dad will have your pay tomorrow. He left a note for some things for you to do.” She handed the note to Lucas, who skimmed it.

“Wanna watch?”

Layla laughed. “Do I wanna watch you fix my father’s equipment?”

“Yeah.” Lucas shrugged. “Might learn a thing or two.”

Layla frowned. “I grew up here, Lucas, I know a thing or two.”

Lucas smiled. “Come on. What else do you have planned?”

“Is this the part where you torment me more?”

“Something like that.”

Layla studied him. He was a god, a man’s man, an Adonis looming over her with the body of a tank that could do things to her she’d only dreamed of.

It’s not like she hadn’t heard the stories of Lucas and his women. He was legendary, much to the chagrin of most husbands and boyfriends throughout Texas.

“Sure.” Layla gave in. “Come on, Dinah.”

They walked out to the barn, and Layla watched Lucas start work on the tractor. He showed her what he was doing, and they had actual, civil conversations about any and everything—except for personal business.

She found herself laughing at one of his jokes, and he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat when she smiled at him. The heart he’d tried so hard to shield.

Layla looked at her phone. “Oh, I have to get going! My dad should be home soon. I’m sure he trusts you here by yourself.”

“Yeah, I ain’t gonna take off with this clunker,” Lucas said, not looking up at her.

“Okay… Come on, Dinah!”

“She’s fine. I’ll look after her.”

“You sure?”

“It’s what I said.”

“Thanks.” Layla gave the dog a big smooch on the forehead and rushed off.

She felt Lucas’s eyes on her, and she couldn’t take much more of the sexual tension she felt between her legs when he was around.

Lucas watched as she drove off, not sure why she brought out the rage and the calm in him all at once, but he wasn’t so sure he could simply distance himself from the little hippie—especially knowing that she wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.

Her secrets were just as bad as his.

***

Layla had very few classes left, and two of them were online. Her work was slow, but it paid the bills, and she rarely saw Paul that week. He’d messaged her a few times and that was incredibly sweet of him—even sent her flowers at work.

Maybe he was coming around.

“You’re doing great,” Rosie whispered to her as she made her rounds at the center, giving Layla a thumbs-up.

The calls were infrequent and spaced out, so Layla studied in between. The calls she’d received were from a lot of students who were stressed about finals, which she totally understood.

It was nearing the end of her shift and her red button blinked. She breathed in deeply and answered.

“Bright Light Lifeline, this is Layla,” she said cheerfully, waiting for a response. She could hear breathing on the other line. “Hello?”

“Not you.”

She covered her mouth before letting the gasp slip out. Cupping her mouth, she whispered into the receiver. “Lucas?!”

Click.

She looked to Rosie, who was helping someone else, and she almost took out her phone to call Lucas back. What if he was in trouble?

She decided to message him, having gotten access to his number through her parents.

I’m fine, Little Hippie, was all he replied.

***

Lucas paced his house. How stupid could he have been to call the hotline? Now she knew. She knew he was weak.

Fuck that, Lucas thought, ~I’ll show her how weak I am when I take her sweet ass to bed with me.~

He dried his bitter tears and downed the rest of the whiskey.

“Bottoms up.”

***

Layla could think of nothing else except for Lucas Foster. She had called her parents to see how things were and was relieved to hear that Lucas had come over every day to fix things around the yard.

“Does he box?” she asked her father, who was hesitant to answer. “Dad?”

“Yeah, he does,” Ron told her. “But you don’t need to go to those places, Layla. I think he goes to these underground arenas on Fridays. At least that’s the rumor.”

Layla knew exactly where he was going. It was an illegal boxing club in Dallas.

Letting it go, she hung up and searched for her sociology book.

“Shoot! I left it at Lauren’s.”

Texting her friend, she didn’t get a response, but she remembered the key code. Making her way over to her apartment, she let herself in, trying to call Lauren the whole time so she wouldn’t think a burglar was there.

The door opened with no issue, and Layla let herself inside. She could hear commotion in the bedroom and eyed her book and Lauren’s phone sitting next to each other on a nearby table.

Hearing the moans, Layla stifled a giggle. She reached for her book and then paused, swallowing hard and listening closely.

“Oh, fuck, Lauren…your mouth is perfect on my cock!”

Paul…

No…not Paul. It had to be someone else. She was curious, and her heart was pounding heavily in her chest as she approached the bedroom.

Standing in the doorway, Layla watched in horror as her boyfriend stood there, completely naked, receiving a blow job from a woman who was supposed to be her friend.

“How could you do this to me?!”

Paul’s eyes flew open, and Lauren crumpled to the floor beside him.

“Layla…” Paul reached for her, but Layla stepped back. “It’s not—”

“No! Stay away from me! I thought you loved me, but you’ve been fucking Lauren this whole time?” Layla sobbed, clutching the book to her chest.

“And you’re my friend.” She turned to Lauren, whose blonde hair reminded her of the wig Paul made her wear. “We’re—we’re through.”

Paul called out to her, but she didn’t turn back. She called Gretchen on her way home, and she came over immediately.

“You’re staying with me, honey, and that’s final.”

Gretchen helped her pack everything up—which wasn’t too much, considering Layla kept most of her stuff at her parents’ house.

She was too shocked to cry and too tired to care. What had she done to deserve this?

***

Layla kept busy most of the week. Paul had tried to reach out to her, but she stood her ground, and the calls stopped.

Friday night rolled around and she told her parents she was going out with Gretchen, but really she dolled herself up and went in search of Lucas Foster.

It might have been considered spying, but she didn’t care. She wanted to see what he was up to, and it got her mind off of Paul.

***

“This guy had better be good, Tim,” Lucas snarled, tossing his shirt to the side. “I wanna break faces, not bank accounts.”

“You need a fight club then,” Tim scoffed. “However, tonight is the Blimp.”

“I’m still going to win, but at least there’s competition.” Lucas chuckled, his bulging biceps glistening with sweat already. “And the girl?”

“I’ll have a nice one set up for you as soon as you get back.” Tim winked as Bobby “the Blimp” Buck stepped into the ring.

Lucas smiled.

They went a few rounds, and it was so damn exhilarating. He felt every punch, every sting. Beads of sweat poured off of him as the two danced around the ring.

It didn’t take long, but it was long enough for Lucas to pummel Bobby into oblivion.

Bobby’s huge body fell to the floor and he tried to get up, but it was all too much. The Tornado had triumphed again.

Relishing in his victory announcement, Lucas met her eyes and immediately dropped his arm.

“Are ya that horny, Lucas?” Tim chuckled as he watched his main fighter climb out of the ring, pushing people off to the side and catching up with the little auburn-haired girl who was trying to escape the crowd.

He was on top of her now, panting and livid.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Before Layla could speak, Lucas tossed her over his shoulder and made his way down the corridor to his dressing room, completely bypassing the locker room.

“Put me down!” Layla kicked and screamed, pummeling his back with her tiny fists.

“Oh, I will, sweetheart,” Lucas said, kicking in his door and tossing her onto the couch. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” He loomed over her, his hand on either side of her head.

Tim cleared his throat. “I’ve got the girl…”

“This is the one I want, Tim.”

“Uh, okay. I’ll let the other one know.” Tim closed the door on his way out.

“Now, you tell me why you’re here.”

“I can’t be here?” Layla asked, her chest rising and falling rapidly, as she was terrified of the man looming over her.

“Not you.”

“I can be here, Lucas.”

“Yeah, you with someone? Your pipsqueak?”

“I-I came alone…”

Lucas sighed, lowering his head. “You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t a place for someone like you.”

Layla didn’t understand why he cared so much. “I followed you. I was curious,” she blurted out as Lucas backed up and glared at her. “I’m sorry. After you called—”

“Don’t.” He raised his hand. “We’ll talk later.”

She was still lying awkwardly on the small couch while Lucas looked her up and down.

“I see why they let you in.” He licked his lips, wondering what she looked like underneath the tight jeans she was wearing. “Every curve of your body is practically begging to break free.”

“I-I’m going to go…”

“The fuck you are,” Lucas said. “Stay there. We’re not done here.”

He sat down on a nearby chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Layla straightened up and trembled as she stared him down.

“Where’d you get the bruises?” he asked.

“I fell.”

“From where? An airplane?” Lucas snarled. “I’m a bullshitter, Layla, not you.”

“I’m fine.”

“So, how often does he do it?”

She didn’t answer.

“Out with it.”

“When I make him mad.”

“And how often is that?”

“I seem to have picked up my productivity lately.”

“You shouldn’t let—”

“We’re not together.”

Lucas nodded. “Rosie tells me that you and others in your crisis group are going to start sponsoring people.”

“You talked to Rosie?”

“I did,” Lucas said, his gaze never leaving hers. “I want you as my sponsor,” he told her.

“Why?”

“Because I like tormenting you, and you do a hell of a job annoying the piss out of me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t seem like the type of person who gives up so easily.” He leaned back in his chair. “Am I a lost cause?”

“No one’s a lost cause, Lucas, you just don’t need me around. You’ve said that many times now.”

“Or maybe I’ve struck a nerve, eh?” Lucas grinned. “The pipsqueak isn’t a lost cause to you. I’m sure you’ll go running back to him when he’s over fucking the other women that he’s brought here and to the club and to the VIP rooms.

“Don’t look at me like you didn’t have a tiny bit of a clue what he was doing.”

Layla didn’t know whether or not she was angry or sad or both, but she hated Lucas at that moment.

“Yes…” He smiled. “Get mad at me. Get frustrated with me. Get loud with me, Layla.” He stood up and grabbed her purse, tossing it across the room. “Yell at me. Hit me. Come on! Hit me!”

Out of nowhere, Layla slapped him across the face. Chest heaving and tears streaming down her face, she trembled violently as Lucas rubbed his cheek.

“Feel better?” He chuckled. “I know I do.”

“You are—”

“A sadist? A masochist? Psychopath? Which one is it today?”

“You’re losing your mind.”

“Baby, I lost that a long time ago.” Lucas laughed. “Now, I want you to do something for me. It’ll be a stress buster for both of us because I know it’s what you need, and I know it’s what I want.”

“What?”

He leaned in and cupped her chin, inching closer to her face. She felt his hot breath fanning her lips, but Lucas didn’t kiss her. No, no. But he wasn’t done with her at all.

“I want to take you back to my house and let you fuck me like you hate me.”