Deadly Secrets *Completed*

Chapter Twenty-Six - The Switch Out

Chapter Twenty-Six-The Switch Out

Layla laid on her side on the couch, absentmindedly twirling a lock of her hair as she watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns. Though the television was on, her mind just wasn't focused on her favorite villain. She thought of him; she thought of him daily. She was worried he would do her the same way as all her previous boyfriends had - he would hurt her just like they did. But deep down, past her doubts, she knew he wouldn't do that to her – he was different than the rest of her ex's. But still, it didn't stop the incessant doubt that continued to haunt her. Some would say, she is paranoid. Some would say she's worrying over nothing. And some would tell her to hold on to that gut feeling that told her, "He is the one."

Old memories began to surface as she debated on which instinct to trust.

***

Two years ago

Layla had pulled out all the stops for tonight – getting completely dolled-up and ready for her sixth date with Trevor Jordan. He was... as her best friend, James, would say, 'eye candy.' He bore such deep, oceanic blue eyes, thick, long lashes that any woman would be envious of. His facial structure was perfection. Sharp, defined jawbones, a straight nose that resembled that of a model and luscious full lips; lips she was dying to kiss, again. They were so soft, silky -- tempting. Trevor reached a height of at least six foot and had the body of a God. Rippling muscles laid under his fitting t-shirt, his rear was easily seen through any pair of denim jeans, firm and round. A thick head of brown spiked hair that she could envision running her fingers through was always fixed to perfection.

She couldn't understand how someone of his league would want to date her? But, he seemed genuine when he'd asked her out, and she thought that after the first date that he wouldn't call back. She never put out on the first date and that usually helps weed through the users and abusers, it initially sent most guys in the opposite direction to look for another slut.

They didn't want a commitment; they wanted sex. She learnt pretty quickly which ones wanted to get into her pants when they said those three magic words after their first date, "I'll call you." The Kiss of Death, so to speak. 'I'll call you' was a sign that meant they had no intentions of calling her. They either got what they wanted on the first date, or they ditched her and spoke the Kiss of Death.

Trevor actually called her back. It amazed her, and yet, she was still so uncertain about him. He was too good to be true. Sweet as chocolate. Athletic. And gorgeous doesn't even cover it, and as an added perk, he was a gentleman. He opened her car door for her when they went out or opened the restaurant door for her as a man should.

She always trusted her instincts. This time she wished that she had, it would have saved her a heartbreak that she would feel the sting of betrayal for years to come.

Twenty minutes passed and Trevor hadn't called or shown up as planned. It was 8:36pm and time was slowly ticking away. Her brows dipped with concern. She was beginning to worry, and the pit in her stomach began to fill with gnawing anxiety.

Trevor lived about twenty-five minutes outside of the city in a one-story, white-panel-sided house with blue shutters around the windows and a blue front door to match. It was extremely elegant for a single.

When she pulled onto the curb, she immediately recognized his car parked in the driveway. Her brows knitted, pinching deeply – her lips turned downward into a deep concerning frown. Her thoughts went wild with 'what ifs.'

Had something happened to him? Did something happen to a family member that he couldn't call and forewarn her? Was he robbed? Was it over between them? Did he just get tired of her and gave up before it even had a chance to begin, really?