LAYLA ABRAHAM

"I feel like I've been here forever. The days are all blending in together. If it wasn't for the light through the windows, I wouldn't know if it was day or night." She lay her head back on the sofa behind her and closed her eyes.

Jerome rolled his eyes playfully. "You're so dramatic."

"How many days has it been now?" She exhaled.

"5." He replied dryly. "If you're purposely trying to annoy me, it's not going to work."

"We'll see about that." She murmured under her breath.

"What was that?" He tapped his ear, indicating that she should repeat herself.

"Nothing." She grinned cheekily.

"That's what I thought."

Layla sighed dramatically again and flopped back on the couch she was sitting on. She didn't want to dirty the sofa with her shoes so she reached down and unzipped them both before placing them on the ground.

Rolling over onto her side, her lips turned down into a frown as she gazed at her choice of shoes. A pair of heeled suede ankle boots. They weren't exactly the kind of shoes someone wore at home, so it still didn't make sense to her why Alejandro had insisted on this specific pair of shoes specifically when he knew that she would be heading to a safe house.

She wasn't a fan of wearing heels around the house so most of the time, she walked around in only her socks. She wasn't even sure why she chose to wear them that morning. Probably because they reminded her of him.

That caused her frown to deepen.

"Play a game with me." He demanded, his voice grabbing her attention.

She huffed. "I'm not in the mood."

"Come on, we're both bored and frankly, I'm in the mood to beat you in chess."

"As if you could."

"I don't get why you're so chicken then."

"I'm not." She grinned, aware that he was only messing with her. "Go on then. You've twisted my arm. Get ready to swallow defeat."

Jerome snorted. "I'll have you eating your own words in no time."

"I'd like to see you try, old man."

"How am I old?" He groaned, not the first time she had poked him with a joke about his age. "I'm the same age as your boyfriend."

She grinned. "He's old too."

"You're annoying when you're bored."

Layla snorted. "I could say the same about you."

Jerome rolled his eyes and finished setting up the chess board on the coffee table, both of them sat on opposing sides.

"I'll be black." He snorted at the irony and allowed her to make the first move.

They were halfway through the game when his phone rang on the table. He was quick to pick it up and press it to his ear as he decided which piece to move next.

Layla was better at chess than he had anticipated, and now he was sweating over the prospect of actually losing to her.

Even though she didn't particularly want to speak to the detective, specifically because he loved keeping her in the dark about most things, she envied Jerome for having some contact with the outside world, if even for a few fleeting moments.

She waited patiently, or as patient as a person who chipped off the old nail polish of their nails could possibly be, while he spoke to the detective.

They weren't talking about anything important. If they were, then Jerome would have left the room like he did last night when the detective called. Most of the time, it was just to ask about her well-being and what they got up to. It appeared that detective Hardy wasn't as forthcoming with information about the progress of the case with Jerome as he was with Alejandro.

She wondered if that was due to the colourful history that the detective shared with her lover.

When she had asked him what the detective had said last night, Jerome changed the topic and asked her what she wanted for dinner instead. That immediately raised red flags because all other times, Jerome either spoke on the phone in front of her, or returned to the room to give her a quick run-down of what the conversation was about.

Hell, he had even spoken to his wife on the phone the other day in front of her.

The secrecy had suggested that whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Layla snapped out of her daze when she noticed her bodyguard waving at her with a strange look on his face. Glancing up, she blinked at him in confusion, even more so when he held his phone out to her.

"Who is it?" She frowned as she stared at the phone.

Shanker had instructed her to leave her phone back at her apartment and frankly, while she appreciated the cleanse from social media and electronic devices on the first day, she was dying of boredom by the second. That combined with not being able to leave the small apartment they called a safe house and having to spend time with only Jerome, she feared it wouldn't be long before she started losing her mind.

Perhaps, Jerome was right. Maybe she was dramatic. Or maybe he was going crazy along with her. If the latter case, then she couldn't trust his judgement.

"Hardy."

"What does he want?"

He shrugged and all but thrusted the phone into her hand, forcing her to accept the call.

"Hello?" She spoke warily into the phone.

"Layla, how are you going?" His voice sounded awfully chipper for a man who was supposed to be finding out why Byron was kidnapped and then essentially put them behind bars so she didn't have to spend the rest of her life in a safe house.

He sounded suspiciously happy, actually. Her frown deepened at the thought. Was there something she was missing?

"Good, I guess." She didn't bother asking how he was. It was rude and she felt bad, but she didn't want him to think that his previous behaviour had been forgotten or excused.

He chuckled. "You're still angry with me?"

Layla rolled her eyes and didn't bother dignifying his question with a response. It annoyed her that he found it funny. What was funny about being fucked over by the police – twice – when they were supposed to be the people protecting her? First, she was blackmailed into dating Byron who had now been kidnapped, only a cryptic note left behind which for some strange reason, suggested that she was next, not that she would know as they refused to show it to her. Second, the detective broke off his end of the deal and allowed them both to be punished by the chief of police by separating them, which was the one thing that the detective promised he wouldn't let happen if he helped him out.

He shouldn't have made promises he knew he couldn't keep.

False hope broke hearts.

Layla refused to let them screw her over for a third time. Twice was painful enough.

"I thought so. I hope I'm able to redeem myself." He hummed. "I've got someone here who wants to talk to you."

"I'm not in the mood to speak to detective Shanker." She rolled her eyes. If she thought Hardy was bad, Shanker was worse.

"Layla." A second voice sounded, causing her breath to falter. She had to remind herself to breathe at the sound of it. That definitely was not detective Shanker.

"Alejandro?"

"Layla." He sighed, seemingly out of breath. She wasn't sure if he had just run a marathon or if he just couldn't believe that he was speaking to her. "Beautiful, we haven't got long. How are you? Is he feeding you? I know you don't like fast food."

She called out his name twice before he stopped ranting. "I'm good. I'm fine. Everything's good here."

He sighed. "I just miss you, beautiful."

"I miss you, too."

Layla heard someone call out his name in the background. She giggled when he swore before returning to her. "They're saying I have to go now."

"Can you call again?"

"I'm not sure, beautiful. But for you, I'll try anything." She couldn't help but smile at his endearing words. "I love you."

Layla didn't get the chance to reciprocate or vocalise her feelings as he swore quietly before the line died.

There was so much she wanted to tell him. Like how she was bored out of her mind and Jerome was forcing her to play all these board games with him to pass the time. She wanted to ask how he was and if he was eating and sleeping properly, because she knew he never slept enough when he was stressed or worried.

Most important of all, she wanted to tell him that she loved him and couldn't wait to see him again, but the line had died and he was gone.

-

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Layla Knight

09.06.2020