DIRTY BULLETS

chapter twenty

WILL HAD JUST hung up the phone after speaking with the Garrison when it started. A guy called Travis had barged into the room, ushering to him that they had a big problem. Something about him hearing a loud ruckus coming from Layla's room and when he went to check it out she wasn't alone; Zeke was there too.

Will had hoped to God it wasn't what he thought, but when he had got there, the room was in disarray.

Shards of glass were scattered across the carpet, with spots of darkness decorating certain parts of the flooring more than others. Something had clearly been spilt. The wooden chair that normally sat against the wall opposite the bed had lost two of its legs and was upside down just to the left of where Will had walked in. Splinters and chipped bits of wood jagged out from the seat, clearly snapped in certain places, most likely from being thrown. The jigsaw pieces from the puzzle he had brought her earlier that day also lay a mess on the floor, the box and the lid of it on opposite ends of the room while his copy of one flew over the cuckoo's nest was spread, spine broken to his right.

But what was most startling was what was in the middle of the room. Zeke's unconscious body lay there, blood seeping from his head and over one of his closed eyelids while the belt and button of his trousers were undone.

Layla was sat on her bed, her back to the wall, her knees hugged to her chest as her eyes didn't waver from the terrible man that lay on the ground. She didn't even seem to notice that Will was there, along with Travis. It was as though she was in some sort of trance, a disassociating transfixion. And when Will had stepped toward her, he had noticed the cut that broke against her lip and the inflamed bruise that ruined her cheek. It was an angry red, purpling and tainting her pale skin.

When he had tried to talk to her, tried to ask her if she was ok, ask her what had happened, she didn't reply. It was only when he had said her name for the fifth time in an aim to at least grab a hold of her distant attention that her trauma-ridden eyes had slowly lifted to where he stood by the bed. And it was when he had made the movement to reach out to her, to touch her shoulder that she had jerked away from him before he had the chance. The sharp gasp that had left her as she pulled away from his unwanted touch and the way her face had contorted into an expression that could only be described as terrified, Will couldn't deny the bile that rose in his throat at her reaction. And what more he knew the reason for it had been that man that lay right by his feet.

That led him to now, where he was pacing back and forth in the main room so unsure of what to do, of how to treat this situation. Travis and another guy were loitering around the room, unsure of what to do themselves but obviously not wanting to abandon the situation.

Layla sat unmoving on one of the chairs in the living area of the room, and still remained in her catatonic state. Her gaze stayed on the ground before her, her knees still pulled to her chest as the most vacant look trapped her features. It had been a struggle to get her there, where she sat, but somehow she got there, and without the physical aid from Will. He never wanted that terrorised look to be directed at him again and so he respected her unspoken hope to not be touched.

Stopping his pacing for a moment, Will looked to his left at the girl and it was clear her unresponsive state was a reaction to whatever the hell happened in that room. He then turned his head to the right, where Zeke was sat cuffed on a chair in the kitchen area. He was still knocked out cold, but upon checking earlier, he still had a pulse, he was still fucking alive.

Maybe it wasn't the most sensible or sensitive idea to have the two in the same room, but Will had to deal with Zeke when he eventually woke up while also not wanting to leave Layla in that bedroom by herself, especially in the condition she was in. And he didn't trust anyone else to stay with her, or anyone to deal with Zeke the way he should be. So he had to make do. It was just temporary, just until Harry got there.