Cat and Mouse ✔

19. I Don't Recognize Myself

Lyla's soft whimper filled the room. Derek stared down at her, watching her face twitch, her eyes dart around as she thought over his statement.  He didn't miss how she nibbled on her bottom lip or how the way her eyebrows pinched together.  

Lyla was still struggling to process what was going on around her. Feeling like she was perched on the edge of a skyscraper and about to plunge to her death. Her foot began to rapidly tap against the floor as her leg bounce, trying to burn off nervous energy. The taps of her toes matched how quickly her thoughts were flying through her brain. 

Sure, Derek and she had a wonderful time together but was that all just apart of his plan? Did he even like her? Thoughts not unlike this swirled around in her gray matter. Lyla found herself full of doubt, unsure of what to make of this. 

Truly sinister thoughts joined the party in Lyla's mental anguish. Her mind couldn't stop itself from wondering if this had something to do with her company.  Did the person who sent the letter(s) to her send Derek too? The urge to drag her hand down her face was so bad, her hand burned. 

She wished, yet again, that she had her sight. She wanted to read Derek's face, she had a knack for knowing when someone as lying to her.  Her heart currently occupying her throat, causing her to have difficulties swallowing, breathing, and being alive. You know, the typical existential crisis. 

Feeling the air around her move, she could tell Derek was shifting. Hearing him move played its part too. Her attention had no choice but to focus back on him in the now, and not what he has done in the past. She had so many questions she was about ready to burst. 

Derek squatted down onto his haunches and he lightly placed his hands on Lyla's forearms. Lyla flinched, barely recoiling back from his touch. They both had to ignore the electricity they felt as their skin meet. 

"You have to trust me," he pleaded with her. It was now his turn to wish he hadn't killed her sight feed, so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "I won't hurt you, just make it look like it." He added on, in the same begging tone. 

Lyla's face arranged to show her confusion, Derek almost laughed at how her dumbfounded look. After a few seconds, the fog in her mind seemed to clear and she realized she had no other choice but to play her part in his schemes.  She begins to nod her head frantically, bobbing along to an unheard song, one with a heavy beat. 

"Okay," she mumbled, unnerved. Resigning to her fate, she pushes her hands under her legs and looks up at Derek, trying to lock eyes with him. Old habits die hard, or whatever they say. Derek moves so she isn't just looking at the blank space beside him instead, now she's staring into his eyes. Derek doesn't mind much that she's not actually seeing him. 

Using this to his advantage, he ducks in for a quick kiss. Earning a startled gasp from Lyla before she returns his affection. Finding himself liking the way she tasted right now, her fear added a tangy note to her. 

He took the second to mentally make a sidenote that after all was said and done, they were getting counselors, someone had things to work through.  

A happy smile one that reached Derek's eyes took its residency on his face. A smaller but mirrored smile appeared on Lyla's face. He gripped her arms, only alarming her slightly, and pulled her up on her feet.  He released his hold, only to demand one of her hands in return. 

"We're going to fake your death," he announced happily and pulled her out of the room. 

"I've been thinking about this for a little while now," he begins as Lyla struggles to understand what he meant with his last statement.  He peers over his shoulder to make sure it is ok, as he leads her to the kitchen.