Buried

CHAPTER 27 | the art of deception

📎A/N.  Hello my friends, we meet yet again, at the end of the weekend.  I hope you all have a safe and happy one :-)

... thanks for all your feedback and support.... and it looks like you enjoyed Murphy and Kaitlyn's kiss ;-) ... or maybe you didn't :-( ....

I hope you enjoy today's chapter.  If you do, don't forget to vote - even you silent readers.. you know you really want to push that little star ;)

Take Care

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"So?" mocked Elijah as Ambrose, Briana and Frank walked in the room, "Did you get your little errand done?"

It took all of Ambrose's will power to not lash out at the smug, self-important expression on the other Werewolf's face. "Yes, no thanks to you," he replied sarcastically.

"Actually, without my trinkets your plan wasn't going to work," Elijah drawled, "so I think it is thanks to me."

Briana's overwrought voice cut into the two Werewolves standoff, "Would you both stop it!" she cried, "You can sort out your shit somewhere else."

She headed over to the bar. With shaky hands, Briana poured herself a large glass of bourbon. The bottle rattling against the crystal as she did so. Swallowing the entire contents in one hit, she turned back to the others. "I know you are all used to that sort of thing. But that was a first for me," she said as she poured herself a second glass.

Elijah laughed. "I would have thought in your business that you would have gotten your hands dirty a long time ago."

Briana was still visibly shaken. "Well you thought wrong," she snapped.

Ambrose broke in, attempting to diffuse the escalating tension that was about to reach boiling point. "I think we all need to calm down. The job is done now."

"Do you think it will work?" asked Frank, who until now had remained silent.

Ambrose considered the question before answering. "As long as we didn't make any mistakes, I can't see why not. We'll know in a couple of days."

It better work or I can't move forward to the next stage, thought Ambrose as he joined his cousin at the wet bar.

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Kaitlyn's brain slowly registered the repeated sound of a fire alarm. The noise became more irritating and louder as the moments passed. Without opening her eyes, she flung her hand out from under the covers and deftly pressed the snooze button.

It didn't take long for Kaitlyn to fully wake. As she sat up she immediately grimaced. "Oh God, my head hurts," she groaned.

Still struggling to clear the cobwebs that were keeping her thoughts murky, she glanced at her alarm clock. It's six am, why do I feel like shit?

A glass of water and two pills she recognised as Tylenol caught her eye. How did that get there?

Kaitlyn was confused. Her mind, still groggy, was slow in catching up with her now awake state. She quickly downed the pills and sat still, waiting for the pain to subside. It wasn't long before her senses cleared and her memory gradually returned.

Images from the church fired in quick succession as she recalled the chaos from the night before. Each one in glorious Technicolour. The image of Mark's wife as they drove away was forever burnt into her memory. She would never forget the look on Theresa's face as she struggled to hold it together.