"What do you remember?" I don’t want to say more than I have to as I sit down on her bed.
Layla’s hand leaves her hip, and she marches over to me. "No. That’s not how this is going to work. Tell me why Chester shot me!" she whisper-shouts, and I reach out to touch her, but she moves aside, out of my reach.
"He was there for me. The bullet was meant for me." The truth stings worse when I say the words out loud. Layla getting shot was my fault.
Layla jolts back until she leans against the wall. Her lip wobbles, and she nibbles the pink flesh. "Jesus Christ, Jared. Why? Why would he want to kill you?"
"We had a fight, and it was retaliation."