"What did I do wrong!? What did I do to deserve this!?" A voice echoed through the endless darkness. It sounded far away, but it was far too familiar to be disregarded or remain unheard.
"You did the right thing, for the wrong man. You should've been smarter than this, girl. Now you owe him, and he'll hunt you down no matter where you go." Another voice responded, a much deeper one, sending chills down her spine.
"I'll run-"
"You cannot escape."
"But I will!"
"You're being naive. There's no getting away from fire in a burning house. Either you let it burn you or you become fire yourself."
Ring! Ring!
"Uhm..." A groggy groan rumbled through her chest, followed by a dissatisfied mumble when annoying blaring of her phone echoed through her single room apartment. As far as she knew it was Sunday. Who would disturb a sleeping person on a Sunday? Or perhaps it was Monday. Either way she couldn't care less. Her head felt like it weighed a ton and her body ached in odd places. Whatever she was doing the night before, she was quite sure it must've somehow ended with at least ten shots.
A hand reached from underneath covers, first slamming against the corner of her nightstand and then finally catching a hold of her very irritating phone. The hand disappeared back under the blanket, a bird nest of brown hair appearing in its place.
"What...." Damn, she sounded like a cat with its tail stuck in a doorway. Her voice could barely be recognizable as human's.
"Don't tell me you're still asleep, Miss Cavenon." Layton's irritated voice boomed from the other end.
"Who the-Oh...."
Right. I'm supposed to be a personal assistant now.
"Don't give me that. The flight leaves in ten, you better get your ass into a car. If you're late, the consequences are on you."
"Wait, what car!?"
Beep, beep,beep.
That asshole hung up on me!
The blanket flew off of her in a swift movement as she hurriedly got up from the warm comfort of her bed. A part of her was really tempted to ignore Layton and sleep some more, but then again, she didn't exactly wish to be woken up by police knocking at her door.
Grumbling under her breath, she scurried around her apartment, picking up whatever clothes she could find. The drowsiness got folks dead, fast, as she once again set off from her apartment in hurry.
The old rusty door of the apartment building nearly flew out of hinges as she made a move to make a mad dash down the street. That was until she was stopped by a well dressed man in his late thirties. He stood near a black Mercedes, waiting for what seemed to be her judging by the look on his face.
"Are you Miss Cavenon?" His voice remained calm as he gave her a once over. He had this judgmental air about him that she already found herself disliking. He reminded her of one of her teachers back at high school. Even man's face was similar to the one stuck forever in her memories.
"Depends on who asks."
"Mr. Grim is expecting you. Please get into the car." The driver explained calmly, already making a move to get into the driver's seat.
"Where exactly are we going?" Catherine had to stop herself from commenting on how the driver was almost as conceited as the CEO of the company itself.
"To the airport. The plain leaves for New York shortly."
That was all the man bothered to tell her before setting the car moving along the Seattle streets.
New York!?
She couldn't remember anyone telling her anything about some trip to New York. But now that she thought about it, she also had zero memories of what had happened yesterday evening as well. The last thing she remembered was cursing her boss for making her stay at work for so long. And then the picture went black.
I should drink less...Way, way less....
She thought bitterly, rubbing the yesterday's mascara off her face.
The ride wasn't too long and most was spent with her trying to clean up the mess she made by smearing her makeup all over her complexion and attempting to seek out more information from the grumpy driver. Both things went with little success and by the time she was kicked out from the Mercedes, she was as confused as she was messy.
"You look like a racoon." Were the first words that left Layton's mouth when she was escorted into the private jet by a nervous looking woman she could only guess was a flight attendant.
"Thank you very much." Sarcasm dripped off her voice like venom as she slumped down on one of billowy seats. Layton looked as flawless as ever with his thick black hair neatly groomed and stubble shaved. Even his suit looked intact, smoothened out of any wrinkles.
"I thought I told you what I think about my employees not looking the part." The words were clearly meant as a jab at her nerves. He didn't even bother to glance up from the papers he was holding.
"I thought I told you that I don't give a-"
A single glance from the cold eyed man was enough to make her swallow the remark.
"Whatever...Why the hell are we going to New York in first place!?"
"I have some business to take care of there. Didn't you read over my schedule? A very important client of mine is organizing a charity event I have to attend. A waste of money and my time, but he earns me twice as much every month..."
I can nearly feel a nasty comment forming.
"Don't make me regret bringing you instead of Angelique. She would be a prettier asset, but I was hoping for you to be tad smarter."
Ah! Here it comes.
"First of, I never asked to be dragged along to some snob event. And second, a blonde bimbo would suit you much better. Someone smart wouldn't look good by your side."
Layton's head whipped around to look her dead in the eye. If only looks could kill...
"Watch your-"
He was interrupted by flight attendant entering to offer then drinks. Catherine bumped the air with her fist in a silent victory over this argument. As childish as it was, she still had at least enough guts to tell him off.
When the stewardess left the argument was long forgotten. Or at least no longer addressed.
The glasses piled up at the small table in front of her as the flight went along. Apart from exchanging a couple of insults, the battling pair remained silent, giving her enough time to go over the events of the day before. No matter how much she tried to twist her brain, no memories came back to her, not even a flashback of going to a club.
It could be that working for Layton was traumatizing enough to drink oneself to a blackout. But there was no memories of that either.
If Nick would've been with her, he most likely would've poked fun of how she would start popping out wrinkles with how deeply she was frowning. At least she would've preferred that instead of what she got.
"Quit making that face."
"I know, I know. It'll get stuck like that."
"I couldn't care less about that. You're ruining my image."
Catherine couldn't resist rolling her eyes.
"Is there ever anyone else you think about except for you?"
"No."
"Fair enough."
Catherine followed close behind as Layton climbed down the steep stairs that lead out of the private jet. A part of her was thankful to finally get off that rattling thing, but another part was concerned with an entirely different matter that nearly begged her to go back.
I need to pee.
Those five big glasses of Pepsi did their task now it felt like her bladder would burst any moment.
"Quit dragging your feet." Layton ordered from three steps ahead, not even turning to glance at her.
"Quit bossing me around. If I'll move any faster, I'll burst."
The retort had been enough for him to finally look back at the hunched figure of his assistant.
"What do you mean burst?" He demanded for her to answer, looking as serious and annoyed as ever. It was as if he never smiled aside from when he had the chance to mock someone into obedience.
"None of your business. Just ignore me like you did."
"Tell me."
"No."
"Yes."
"No!"
"I am your supervisor. If something will prevent you from doing your job, it's your duty to tell me."
"Oh for God's sake....I need to pee!"
Many heads turned to stare at them at the announcement. Catherine felt her cheeks going red from shame.
So embarrassing!
"You'll have to hold." Layton merely shrugged, seemingly unbothered.
"No shit Sherlock."
How can one man be so damn infuriating!?
The way from the plane to the car parked nearby dragged on to the point where it seemed that they had been walking for miles. Or perhaps it was just her imagination playing tricks on her as pretty much the only thing she could think about besides her boss being a pain in the ass was the nearest bathroom.
Catherine dived into the leather seat of the black Audi, crossing her legs in a silent prayer that they'll reach the hotel or whatever place they were going to fast.
Little did she know of the adventure waiting for her ahead.