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“Holy shit,” I breathe out in a low murmur. The scenarios he’s painting in my head form like a black doom.
“I know it's a difficult time, Aurora, but we need to get ready for all possibilities.”
“Oh my God! What about H&H and Layla?”
“Harris is on it. I currently own H&H, so Layla should be fine, but I can’t guarantee they won’t harass her or her family. They should go stay someplace else. I have Harris arranging a safe hotel for them. Can you ask her to go with him?”
“Uh…yeah.” I pull my phone and wince when I find about ten missed calls from Jonathan and five from her.
Jonathan’s hawk-like attention doesn’t miss what’s on my screen and his tone hardens. “And next time, answer my fucking calls, Aurora.”
“I’m sorry. I…wasn’t thinking.” I’m still not — not straight, anyway.
“You were with Ethan.”
“I’m thankful he was there.”
Jonathan’s grip tightens around my wrist, but he says nothing. He also recognises that I shouldn’t have been alone in the midst of people who most likely would’ve gotten my head on a stick.
I dial Layla and she answers after the first ring. “What the F, mate! Don’t ghost me. That stuff gives me PTSD now.”
“Sorry, Lay. Something came up.”
“No kidding. Harris is at our house, saying we need to go, or something.”
“Yeah, Lay, please go with him. I…I’m so sorry I got you, Kenza, and Hamza involved in this. I’m so sorry.”
“What are you talking about?”
The whole case is public now, and she’ll see it eventually. However, I don’t want her to hear about it from strangers. “Maxim Griffin, the one who’s currently all over the news?”
“What about that psycho?”
“H-he’s my father, Lay.”
There’s no answer from the other side. It’s the first time Layla’s been speechless, and it’s not the good type.
“A-are you going to say something?”
“Wait up. So you’re, like, the daughter who reported him?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
“I’m s-so sorry, Lay. I know I should’ve told you before and I’m sorry you guys will be implicated in this when my new identity is revealed, so just tell them you didn’t know. Say I played you, lied to you.”
“Bollocks. Where are you?”
“I’m leaving for a bit. Please follow Harris. It’s for your own safety. Please.”
“We’ll go to our relatives in Birmingham. Don’t worry about us. You just take care of you, okay?” Her voice turns brittle at the end and she pauses before saying, “Remember, you’re my ride or die, mate. I’ve got you.”
“Lay…” I choke on my tears, gripping the phone hard.
By the time I end the call, I’m too emotional to talk. The fact that Layla is on my side without even hearing the full story squeezes my heart. I didn’t know I needed her support until now.
Jonathan takes the phone from between my fingers and powers it off.
