I slowly make my way down the stairs with my back brushing against the wall, careful not to make any noise. When I step off of the bottom step, I lead with my gun out in front of me as I whip around the corner into the kitchen.
It doesn’t take me more than five minutes to do a sweep of the first floor: nothing broken, all the windows and doors still secure, and no one other than Layla and I in the house. I quickly jog over to the front door and punch in the security code Finn reluctantly gave me earlier when he left to go to his own cabin. The alarm stops suddenly and I wince at the ringing in my ears with the abrupt silence.
I start to head towards the kitchen for the cordless phone that hangs on the wall to call the security company when a loud crash and a scream from upstairs pierce the silence.
“LAYLA!”
The shout bellows from my mouth as I take off out of the kitchen, my bare feel smacking on the hardwood floor as I rush to get back to her. I take the stairs two at a time, shouting her name the whole way until I get to the closed, locked bedroom door. Slamming my shoulder as hard as I can into the wood, the door flies open and I see a pile of broken glass on the floor right below her bedroom window, the sheer, white curtain billowing softly in the breeze.
My eyes frantically scan the room until I find Layla huddled in a ball on the floor with her back against the side of the bed, a red brick in her shaking hands.
I rush through the room towards the window, mindful of the broken glass on the floor as I get to the jagged hole and gaze out at the yard below. I scan the trees, the driveway, and the hedges and look as far as my eyes can see under the moonlight. As far as Layla’s house is from the road, someone would have had to walk quite a ways to throw something through the window since there aren’t any cars in sight and no one currently peeling out of the driveway.
I turn around and make my way over to Layla’s side, kneeling down next to her and prying the brick out of her hands. I turn it towards me and there’s only one thing written on it in white chalk: the word WHORE in big capital letters. Before I can say anything to her, the ringing of a cell phone comes from the table next to her bed. She blindly reaches her hand up to it and answers with a shaky voice without even looking at who is calling.
“Yes, this is Layla Carlysle. The password is hummingbird. Do I need police assistance?” she repeats back to the security company while looking at me questioningly.
I nod my head yes and she tells them to send the police, letting them know she’s unharmed and there is currently no one in the house with her that shouldn’t be before hanging up and tossing the phone to the side.
There are so many things I want to say to her before the police get here. So many thoughts running through my head that it’s all just one big fucked up mess. I didn’t want anything to happen with her until she knew everything about me and could make an informed decision about whether or not she wanted to risk getting involved with me. I should have handled things better with her instead of jumping on her the first chance I got. I let it go entirely too far when I was supposed to be protecting her, not losing my mind inside of her. I shouldn’t be starting anything with her until this job is finished and it isn’t a conflict of interest. I knew there was no way I’d be able to just ignore how much I wanted her, but I could have at least waited until I was off the clock for fuck’s sake. It was unprofessional and I was an idiot.
“Look, about what happened between us…”
Layla jumps up from the floor, her eyes glued to her feet as she steps around the broken glass and hurries past me.
“Forget about it. It was a mistake and it shouldn’t have happened. I just needed to forget about that guy’s hands on me. So…whatever,” she says with a shrug.
I stare at her retreating