|3| Lyla Pembroke |
When I open my eyes I'm waking up from a nightmare. The man with blue eyes killed Kate and now he was going to kill me. I blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the light flooding into the room. I'm on a soft cloud of white bedsheets. Maybe it was all a dream and we're back at the hotel. I toss and turn for awhile gathering my thoughts.
I sit up on my elbows when the door creaks open. The blue eyed man steps through and my breathing hitches in my throat. He's dressed in light jeans, a plaid shirt and his black glasses along with a small grin. I scoot back until I'm pressed against the wall bedside the small bed.
He's carrying a small tray and I'm surprised there's not a butcher knife on it. "Hey Angel," he greets me but I'm not about to fall for his charms. I look down at me body and notice in wearing a gray shirt and boxer shorts. I push myself further into the wall as he approaches the small twin sized bed.
"Y-You changed me."
"I gave you a bath too. You were quite a messy angel." He responds trying to sound gentle. I suddenly felt violated.
"It's astounding that you think this is all normal." I tell him while I plot my ways of escape. I took in my surroundings. There was a small window high above the bed, door, nightstand with a small lamp and dresser across the room. That's all the contents of the room. It's plain and quaint.
"I'm not sure what you mean. You sort of messed yourself. I wasn't just going to let you sit in those filthy clothes." My cheeks heated up from embarrassment and frustration.
"That doesn't excuse the fact that you-"
He cuts off my rambling with stern look. "I made you some food, angel. You had a stressful night and I'd thought you'd need some energy. I'm not the best cook but I figured eggs, hash browns and orange juice would suffice." I detect his accent again and realize it's Irish.
"I don't want your food," I grit out angrily. "I want to go home."
He sets the tray down on the nightstand. "It would be rude of you not to eat the food I prepared for you. That would definitely be something a rotten girl would do. Your not a rotten girl, are ya' angel?"
Something flickers in his eyes. He looks at me the same way that he looked at Kate right before she died. "I asked you a question?!" He asks angrily and I jump at the tone of his phone.
"No I'm not."
"Then do what a good little angel would do." He tells me after taking a deep breath. Now I know that arguing wasn't going to get me out of here. For being Kate, stubborn and problematic, she got killed.
I reach over to grab the glass of juice. "T-Thankyou for making this meal for me. I'd like to eat in privacy, if you don't mind?"
He contemplates it for a second. "I will be back soon."