A Fostered Love

Chapter Fourteen: Layla

The person I see in the mirror is not me. This girl looks completely broken. Her eyes are red, cheeks puffy from crying too much. The tear stains still line her face, displaying just how distraught she really is.

Dried blood is all over her shirt, a lot of it not even hers. It would be a difficult stain to get out, but the memories would be impossible to forget.

Her hair is a mess, shoulders hunched, arms crossed, and smile non-existent.

This girl can't be me.

Or maybe it can be.

I stare at my reflection again, reliving every moment. I don't think I've ever cried so hard in my life. The pain was unbearable, so harsh that I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. It felt as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest, crushed by the evil claws of death.

Somehow, he managed to escape that cold grasp of death, salvaging what was left of my heart and sanity. And when he woke back up, everything became clearer. I felt as if a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders and I could finally breathe.

But God forbid if he is taken away from me again,

It may just be my final breath.

-/-

The nurses were kind enough to loan me a pair of scrubs to change into, instead of having to wear those bloody clothes for the rest of my stay.

I now sit in the chair right beside his bed, quietly watching his chest rise and fall. He looks so peaceful, so calm. My hand remains locked with his, in hopes that when he wakes up, I am the first thing he sees.

I hear the door open and turn my head slowly, finding a uniformed cop standing in front of me.

"Is there a Layla Evans anywhere around here?" He asks, his deep voice catching me off guard.

"She's right here," I say raising an eyebrow, "What's this about?"

"Oh, hello, I'm Detective Anderson, Detective Warner's partner. I was sent here to inform both of you about new updates in the case." He glances at Kyle who is still fast asleep, "I can come back later if you want."

"No, go ahead. I can inform him when he wakes up."

"Okay, well, let me first start with Gregory Smith."

"Gregory Smith? Who is that?"

"A criminal from the state of New Jersey that managed to escape from prison two weeks ago and impersonate Detective Warner here in New York."

I release Kyle's hand gently and turn to face the officer. "So you're saying-,"

"The man that attacked you was not an officer, he was just impersonating one."

I was right.

"So where is Detective Warner anyway?"

"We are still working on that case. We assume that Smith had something to do with his disappearance."

"And all this time, no one had any idea that Smith was impersonating Detective Warner?"

"No one really had any reason to suspect anything. Smith got a face alteration, wore shoes that made him a little taller, dyed his hair, and stole Warner's badge."

"He must have sounded a little bit different to you guys, right?"

"Not very. The act that Smith put on was convincing. So convincing that the security of our department was breached."

"Where is he now?" I ask, taking all of this information in.

"He is being transported back to New Jersey as we speak."

"If you don't mind me asking, officer, what kind of crimes did Smith commit?"

"Back in New Jersey, the police had to hunt him down. He kidnapped women and took him into a room, similar to the one we found both of you in, and did terrible things. He murdered thirteen women before the police found him. What is sickening is that those dead women were held in that very same room, stuffed in drawers and cabinets like they were household objects."

I lower my head, my mind raging with anger towards Smith. If I had been alone with him for just a few more minutes, I would have died. The officer places a hand on my shoulder, making me jump. "I know this is a lot to take in, and I am very sorry this has happened to you."

"Thank you for telling me." I say feebly and watch as he gives a curt nod and walks out the door.

I turn back to look at Kyle who is still caught in a deep sleep. I take his hand again and lean back in my chair, my thoughts racing about what I've really gotten myself into.

-/-

The grip on my hand tenses, which immediately pulls me out of my light sleep. My eyes open and watch him carefully once again.

"Layla," he mumbles sleepily and I can't help the smile that crosses my face. His eyes open slowly and lazily land on me.

"Hey sleepyhead."

He smiles, "Hey. How long have I been out?"

"Eight, maybe nine hours."

"Really? It felt like longer. I swear, that was probably the best sleep I've had in a while."

"I bet it was. How are you feeling?"

"Better actually," he says lightly brushing his thumb over my hand, "thank you for staying."

"Where else would I be?"

He stays quiet for a moment then asks, "Where is he?"

"Kyle...," I start.

"Where is he, Layla?"

"He's not here. He's back in New Jersey, probably awaiting his new conviction."

"New Jersey?" He asks sitting up slowly. He didn't even grimace this time, which is a good sign.

I take a long breath before relaying the news to him. His face goes from surprised to just angry. "Why do you look so mad?" I raise an eyebrow at him as I finish the explanation.

"If there is another trial, we might have to testify against him."

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get that man locked up forever." I spit angrily. Kyle looks at me again, hearing the harshness in my tone.

"I'm so sorry I let all of this happen. I will never be able to forgive myself for it."

"It was never your fault. I was reckless and stupid and look where it got you."

"I guess we're both to blame then."

"No, neither of us are." I shake my head, "Let's not accuse ourselves for the sake of each other, okay? Let's just enjoy the fact that we're both still alive and together." I say leaning against the bed, my hand still locked with his.

He looks me in the eye and sighs, "I love you."

"And I love you," I say planting a soft kiss on his lips, "but you need to heal faster."

He chuckles a little, a smile spreading across his face. "I know, I know, but for now can you just come closer again. I've kind of missed you."

I feel my cheeks redden as I lean in for another kiss, this one a little deeper than the last. We kiss for a while, only to be interrupted by the sound of someone loudly clearing their voice. I lean back quickly, embarrassed about being caught. To my surprise, Detective Anderson is standing before us. He looks at Kyle and says,

"Great, you're awake."

"What is this about officer? You kind of barged in at a bad time." Kyle grumbles and I smack his arm, my cheeks probably turning a darker shade of red.

"What do you need, officer?" I ask turning back to him.

"I was just here to ask you a question. How would you two feel about testifying against Gregory Smith?"

Kyle and I glance at each other, silently remembering our talk from a few minutes ago. I direct my attention back to the cop, lifting my chin up in the air,

"Whatever it takes to lock him up. We're in."