The Favor // jdb

Chapter 2 ; Safe

'I've been avoiding commitment, that's why I'm in this position, I'm scared to let somebody in on this.' Girls Love Beyoncé – Drake ft James Fauntleroy.

Justin's POV:

Panic. My mind was racing as I stared at the battered door of Layla's apartment. Shit, what if......my mind trailed until interrupted by her quiet cries. On instinct I went to her wrapping her in my arms, holding her tight. God, I didn't even really know her, but she's been on my mind since that day she stumbled into my kitchen.

I rubbed her back soothingly, murmuring reassurances to her. I lifted her head from my chest, her big brown eyes pooling with tears, staring back at my own.

"Lay, its okay, we haven't even looked inside yet. It's nothing that can't be fixed." I placed a smile on my face reassuringly for her. I placed a peck on her forehead, releasing her from my tight hold. "Let me go check it out first, okay? Just wait here a second," I said walking over to the broken door, pushing it open by its one remaining hinge.

Trashed. Chairs were overturned and strewn across the living room, glass shattered, pictures lay broken on the floor. The place had been turned upside down so badly, I even gasped in shock. I stepped further inside to see the living room walls had messy scrawl all over them. What the fuck, who would do this? This girl has probably never said a bad word to anyone in her life, much less make enemies.

Hearing the door creak open, Layla popped her head around to find me staring at the wall. My eyes trailed over the marker on the wall.

'You're a dead man Bieber.'

'This is only a taste of what's to come if we don't get our money.'

'You have a bitch again? I'd fuck this one, she's a 10.'

Fuck. Bastards. My suspicions were confirmed, my gut wrenched. These dumb fucks got the wrong apartment for one, now they knew about Layla. 

Layla's POV

"Justin?" I mumbled walking into my living room, unrecognisable due to the damage done. I got no response from him, instead he was stood, frozen staring at the wall like he'd seen a ghost. "Justin." I repeated moving closer, avoiding shards of glass, to him placing my palm on his shoulder. He shook his head and turned to face me, an unreadable expression on his face. "Sorry, I zoned out," he stared blankly at me.

"We need to call the cops, Justin." I said.

"No! We can't, its too dangerous to get them involved-" he replied.

I cut him off, "too dangerous, what are you on about, my apartment has been burgled."

"What is this? What's written on the wall?" I said looking behind him.

"Nothing, lets get some of this cleaned up." I scoffed at him, and nudged him to the side, to look at the scrawl. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What? Bieber. Money.

"What the hell is this? Isn't your last name, Bieber?" I whispered. He turned around, mumbling, "I'm sorry." His jaw clenched in anger, a stony look on his face.

I shook my head, "Sorry? For what? I don't understand."

"This is my fault, okay?" He came closer to grasp my hands.

"Justin, what do you mean?"

"I didn't think they'd find me here." He muttered, his emotionless eyes meeting mine. "All this was meant for me, I think they thought I lived here, not next door."

My bottom lip trembled, "but why would they do this, look at the state of my home."

"Layla, there's things I can't tell you, I don't wanna drag you into this."