The Handoff (Big Play #3) by Jordan Ford Page B

a little, and maybe for the first time I’m seeing what Mack sees—a torn, wounded girl who never got over the death of her father. It makes me want to pull her onto my knee and wrap my arms around her. Which is crazy, because…she’s Layla—the stuck-up, bitchy cheerleader who seems to enjoy throwing her life away.
    My brow wrinkles as I start to see fracture lines in my conviction.
    Layla lets out this muffled kind of sob.
    “Daddy,” she whispers. “Daddy, please. I need your help.” She sucks in a breath and starts crying. “Come back. Please, don’t leave me. I need you.” Her lips form an ugly frown. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” Her wailing rises in volume. Goose bumps ripple over my skin when she starts to thrash and scream. “I’m sorry! I didn’t want to, okay! I’m sorry!”
    I lurch out of the chair and kneel by the bed, capturing her flailing limbs and holding them against the covers.
    “Layla, it’s okay. Wake up.” I lightly shake her. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll help you.”
    Her writhing peters out, her limbs erratically jerking within my hold before going still. I think she’s sleeping so I brush my hand down her face. “It’s okay, Layla. It’s okay.”
    “Don’t call me that,” she murmurs, her eyes sliding open and giving my heart a jolt.
    I lean away from her, unnerved by what that brown gaze is making me feel. With a thick swallow that’s freaking audible, I lick my lower lip and whisper, “What do you want me to call you?”
    “Anything but my name.” Her lips tremble as she pulls the washcloth off her head and drops it to the floor. “I hate my name.”
    “Why?”
    She sniffs and closes her eyes. “Because Sheldon Buchanan ruined it for me.”
    Kneeling back on my heels, I give her a quizzical frown. “Are you talking about that senior from last year? The basketball guy. Point guard, right?”
    “Yeah, the one who thinks the sun shines out his ass.”
    My lips break into a smile as I bob my head. “I know the one.”
    Layla’s chin quivers and she looks over my shoulder as if watching something in the distance. Her voice is flat and broken when she starts speaking. “I overhead him talking one day. He was laughing with his basketball buddies, telling them how he got laid by Layla. He said it was the perfect name for me, because that’s what I do best. He told his team they shouldn’t leave Nelson High without trying to get laid by Layla.”
    Anger sparks inside me—strong and righteous. If I’d been hearing it from anyone else, I’m ashamed to admit I probably would have rolled my eyes and turned away. But now…I grit my teeth and reach for Layla’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. It’s lucky Sheldon graduated last year and is currently studying at some college outside of Nelson, because if he were still here, I’d be tracking him down and giving him an ass whooping to remember.
    Once again, I’m surprised by the strength of my emotion, but seeing this side of Layla is changing my view big time.
    “I didn’t want to sleep with him, you know,” she croaks. “I just did it because he was being nice to me. I thought he liked me, that maybe he’d stick around and take care of me.” Her voice wobbles. “Instead, he made me feel like a cheap whore.” Her eyes flood with tears as she sucks in a shaky breath. “And I don’t know why, but that role is just so easy to play, you know? After that, guys kept coming on to me and for some reason, I just keep craving that escape. It’s like this moment in time where someone is focused solely on me and they’re making me feel good. I forget the pain for a little while.”
    Her voice is soft and wistful for a second, but then drops to a nearly inaudible whisper. “But then once it’s over, I’m left with nothing but a bad name.” Her brown eyes hit me then, connecting with mine and breaking my heart wide open. “I hate my name, Finn. I hate my life.”
    She lets out a