Who Killed Kyle Simmons? (Bastille)

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter eighteen

Layla cautiously took a step away from the door, which she carefully closed behind her, as she entered the main lab on the morgue.

"They're lying to you, and you know it."

She spun around, but no one was there. Layla narrowed her eyes at the shadows concealing the corners of the room. No one could be in here, the room had been locked until she'd opened it, and no one had followed her in, she would have heard something.

The only other person was the body on the table a few metres ahead of her.

Her footsteps echoed around the grey metallic room.

Layla felt a shiver down her spine. Looking over her shoulder and seeing nothing, she turned back to the now empty table. Where was the body?

The lights in the room began to swing and flash as hands grabbed her.

Layla struggled as they forced her onto the table, her body felt numb and cold. She lifted her head and noticed her lips had turned a pale blue before she was pushed roughly back down.

Her head hit the metal surface with a thud.

The figures above her wore the normal lab attire, right plastic gloves snapped over their hands. Layla swivelled her eyes from left to right, she was completely paralysed, as the light got brighter, she scrunched her eyes up.

Helpless to do anything, she felt the table being wheeled towards the draws.

The dark space seemed to draw her in.

Her breathing ragged as she felt the draw slide in, then the scratching sound the lock made.

Inches above her head was white writing, scrawled all over the insides of the rectangular box. They seemed to glow almost.

"Lying."

The writing was sharp, covering everywhere in a directions.

"Lying"

Someone seemed to whisper.

The voice became louder and louder, Layla couldn't stop it.

She scrunched her eyes up.

************

Layla panted as she jumped to sit up.

No freezing cold room, no hard metal, no voices.

She was warm, and safe.

Her hand patted the bedside table until she finally found the light switch on the small lamp.

There was a quiet grumble next to her as Dan rolled over to face her.

Layla smiled at his dopey face, hair flipped all over his forehead as he sat up.

"Nightmare?"

She nodded.

"C'mere."

Layla leaned into him, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. An orange glow from the lamp made her feel safer.

"What time is it?" She asked.

Dan yawned and leaned away, causing Layla to shiver at the sudden loss of heat as Dan checked his phone.

"7:30"

"Oh."

She snuggled back down, her back against Dan's chest. She could feel the rise and fall, the steady, strong heartbeat.

That was what made her feel safe, not the lamp.

His fingers began playing with her hair, twisting strands around his fingers.

Nothing major had happened between them, but Layla made sure to keep anything she had with Dan on the down low, she didn't want Will making assumptions.

She doubted that would happen though. This last week nothing had really happened. People were no longer as willing to talk about their memories of Kyle. No one, apart from Dan had properly spoken to her. She's heard nothing since Thursday, and was Wednesday now.

Sometimes she would catch Dan looking at the photos of him and Kyle he kept in a shoebox in the cupboard.

It made her feel guilty. It was her job to track down the murderer, and she was as close to finding the answer as she's been when she'd first taken the case.

"Dan." She nudged him gently.

He unwrapped his arms from around her.

"I'm making breakfast, what do you want?"

"It's... 8."

"So?"

He opened an eye to look up at her and smiled into the pillow.

Layla realised in that moment, that she would find whomever had murdered Kyle. She would find them.

Dan mumbled something, so Layla decided she'd just make some toast. Perhaps one day, she'd teach Dan, so he wouldn't electrocute himself and set the kitchen on fire.

********

A/N

I haven't checked for typos or anything so if there are errors please let me know, thanks :)

Please vote, comment, share, etc... :)