Free Recovery by Abigail Stone

sweater.
    Layla was beginning to get nervous. Leo had said he would be back late, but Chase had never given her any estimate on when he would be back with her fix. If he even intended to follow through on his promise at all. As Layla limped back over to her matted spot on the sofa, she realized that she was dying for a shower. Her dress was stained from the mud and rain and in the height of her withdrawal, she had practically soaked all the way through it with sweat. She smelled so awful that she was starting to offend herself.
    Layla didn’t have a change of clothes, but she figured she would just wear something of Leo’s. She knew by now that he kept a drawer full of spare shirts in the cabins bedroom. Set on the idea, Layla entered the tiny cupboard sized bathroom. It was so small, in fact, that it couldn’t even accommodate a tub.
    Layla stepped into the rusty shower, turning on the water. Giving it a second to warm up, she stripped off her clothing, folding it and setting it on the sink. The bathroom wasn’t ventilated and began to fill up with steam. Having trouble breathing, Layla cracked a window, sliding a balled rag beneath it to keep it up.
    Then, Layla stepped into the tepid water, closing the shower door behind herself. She grabbed a half empty bottle of soap, lathering it in her hands and rubbing them over her body. Her ankle ached from standing, but there wasn’t enough room in the tiny cubicle like shower to sit down, and Layla wasn’t sure that she would test it even if there was. The shower floor looked as though it had not been scrubbed in decades. Layla leaned against the wall of the shower, gasping as the water cascaded down her soapy body.
    Then, out of nowhere, she heard a noise. At first, she thought it was just in her head. It was a slight humming that was barely audible over the sound of the water, and when Layla heard it again, she assumed it must have been the cabin’s water heater. But then, it got louder. And closer.
    Anxious and still covered in bubbles, Layla opened the shower door, grabbing the first towel she could find and wrapping it around herself. She rubbed the moisture from the window, looking outside. She couldn’t see anyone, but through the crack in the window, she could hear that the noise was coming somewhere from the front of the cabin.
    Layla’s heart raced. She braced herself, unsure of what to do. She told herself that it was most likely just Leo returning, or even Chase with her fix – although that seemed more unlikely. Regardless, there was a part of Layla that couldn’t help but feel nervous. Just as she began to relinquish herself to her worries, she heard the noise again, only this time she could make out what it was.
    It was the distinct sound of a bike’s engine revving.  
    Relived and assuming that Leo had to be the source of the noise, Layla reached forward to lock the door before stepping back into the shower. There’s no way he’s seeing me naked, Layla told herself.
    Not again. Not after Chase had confirmed her deepest worries. Leo was her father, at least in the biological sense, and Layla had decided that she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she ignored that for the sake of her desires. They were illicit. Wrong. And worst of all, incestuous. Feeling dirty all over again, Layla turned back on the water, washing the remainder of the soap from her body.
    Then, she heard it.
    A loud banging on the door, followed by a jiggle of the handle.
    “Let me in,” Layla heard a voice say.
    But it wasn’t Leo’s.

LOVE KILLS
    "Love kills, Love kills, Love kills.
We still believe in anarchy, It makes me so damn angry
Sid and Nancy meant a lot to me, you may be dead but your souls are free."
    ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

    “Shit,” Layla muttered.
    The hardest part of saying no to drugs was denying them when they were right in front of you. Layla sat on the sofa, her hair still wet and dripping from the shower, watching as Chase ruffled through his