After Tomorrow (Kingsley series Book 2)

by Haylee Thorne

  Layla holds her hands up.

  “Okay, I am sorry. It is interesting though, your blind trust in a known womanizer. I don’t know how you think you can’t do better. You know that he’s incapable of loving anyone besides his twin sister, right?”

  I don’t even want to respond to that. Why tell her that I know her to be wrong? I try to redirect her.

  “Why am I here, Layla?”

  “You tell me. You are the one who decided to follow me here.”

  I am starting to lose patience, not that I had a lot to begin with. I feel like she’s just toying with me.

  “And you’re the one that purposely led me here. Are we going to continue to go in circles?”

  Layla stares at me for moment and really scrutinizes me. When she finally starts talking, I’m not sure she’s even really speaking to me.

  “I just don’t know what the attraction is. It’s more than just a pretty face. It must be. But what?”

  I’m not sure how to respond, so I remain silent.

  “You know…I was going to befriend you at first. That was the plan. But when I saw you that night at Serenity, I just knew that it wasn’t going to happen,” she muses.

  Layla takes another sip of her wine. I don’t want to interrupt her—not because I think it might be rude, but because I am afraid she will stop talking—so I just let her speak and take a sip of my glass of wine, effectively silencing myself. An enigmatic smile blooms on her face.

  “I think he really thinks—I mean, he thought—there was a real future with you,” she says thoughtfully.

  “Layla, I’m not sure what your problem with me is, but I will tell you right now that Mika isn’t the man you think he is or even appeared to be when you…well, when you actively spent time with him. I am sure he didn’t treat you as well as you deserve to be treated, but I have nothing to do with that.”

  She looks at me, her eyes glazed over. I am not 100% sure that she is understanding me at all right now. Our eyes lock, and while I was hoping to find some answers there, I only see a blank stare. The communication I was hoping to achieve by initiating eye contact has been an enormous failure.

  “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out between you and Mika, but maybe it is time for you to let it go now.”

  As if she cannot believe the audacity of what I just said, she scoffs and starts laughing.

  “Mika?” she bites out icily. “Oh honey, Mika Kingsley is only a small part in this.”

  I narrow my eyes. None of this makes sense.

  “A part of what, Layla?”

  She drains her glass and then stands; my eyes are glued to her every movement. I watch her stride into the kitchen and seconds later walk back out with a bottle of wine. She pours herself another glass and smiles at me sweetly. She changes demeanors like a light switch.

  “I’m sorry, you are right. It is time to let go of Mika Kingsley.”

  She says the words, but I’m not convinced. I take a sip of my wine, buying myself a moment before I respond.

  “I know that you, of all people, must realize how unhealthy it is to hold on to someone like that.”

  She smiles at me again and starts smoothing her clothing. I can’t put my finger on it, but the look in her eye makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. Nervously, I drain my glass.

  “Yes, you are right. I know you are right. Obsession is unhealthy, and you of course know all about that, don’t you, Raeva? After all, Mika Kingsley and Sam Clayton have an unhealthy obsession with you. One of them already died because of it.”

  My eyebrows pull together. Why is nothing she’s saying making sense?

  “What are you talking about, Layla? Sam Clayton was a very disturbed person, and I can’t say that I am sorry about the fact that he can no longer hurt me, but nobody deserves to die like that. I didn’t want him dead, and his death has nothing to do with me.”

  She says nothing for a moment. I watch her pick up the bottle of wine and fill my glass.

  “I know that you can’t possibly believe that his death isn’t your fault, Raeva,” she says as if it is a matter of fact.

  I’m not sure why she is bringing him up, but there’s no time like the present to find out her connection with Sam.

  “What exactly is your interest in him? I know he was your patient. Did you send him after Mika and Mikaela? What was your endgame? You know that he was highly disturbed. If anything, you are the one responsible for his death. You used that poor soul to extract revenge on Mika. And for what? Not wanting to be with you?”

  Her eyes widen.

  “You’re clearly in denial,” she bites.

  “I’m in denial? About what exactly?”

  I have no idea what she’s playing at, but it’s obvious to me now that this isn’t going to go anywhere.

  “I think that it’s time for me to leave.”

  “Aw, leaving so soon, Raeva?”

  I stand to leave but still for a moment. It seems that the glass of wine on an empty stomach wasn’t a smart move because I feel as if I have drunk an entire bottle. Layla looks at me, tilting her head to the side as she smiles serenely.

  “Why don’t you sit, Raeva?”

  “No, thank you. This conversation is over. It was a mistake coming here,” I tell her determinedly.

  I watch her hand slip beneath the couch cushion, and she pulls out a small hand gun and points the barrel at me. I can feel the color drain from my face, and I gulp for air. Layla gets to her feet.

  “It wasn’t a request. Sit. The. Fuck. Down,” she says, emphasizing each word deliberately.

  I try to weigh my options here. She’s obviously insane, and she’s pointing a gun at me. Am I going to attempt to run? I tell myself to be rational; at least one of us should try to achieve rationality here. If I am going to get out of here, I need to find an opportunity when she’s not actively pointing a gun at me. My heart is beating out of control so fast it’s almost painful. My thoughts are scattered and unorganized, but the realization that I—for now, at least—should do as she says is very prominent, so I sit.

  “Smart choice,” she tells me, as if she is privy to my inner monologue.

  My eyes are glued to the small metal weapon in her hand. But when she starts to speak, the maniacal tone in her voice commands my attention.

  “You stole him from me, and you didn’t even want him. He was everything to me, my whole goddamn world!” she says angrily. “Poor pretty little Raeva, so smart, so sweet, so fucking perfect,” she says as she wrinkles her nose. “You have the freaking world at your feet and left me with nothing, not a motherfucking thing! He thought you were different and so fucking special, just like that idiot, Kingsley. You don’t fool me. You act like you are this puritanical person, and they all fall for it, but not me. You are poison,” she says, pointing at me with her free hand.

  My head is spinning. What the hell is this crazy broad talking about? For a second I forget myself.

  “Layla, what in the actual fuck are you talking about?”

  Her free hand shoots up to her head, grabbing it in frustration. She lets out a guttural scream.

  “You have fucking ruined everything. We spent years—so many freaking years—planning their downfall, and you fucking ruined everything,” she almost screams.

  Who the fuck is we?

  “It was going to be so sweet, finally put those fucking Kingsley’s in their goddamned place. Now you are going to die, and after I get rid of you, I’m going to destroy all the Kingsleys. I’m fucking done playing nice. The lot of you are going to pay.”

  I jump to my feet once more, not caring at all about the gun she’s still pointing at me or the fact that she is clearly unstable as hell, but my head starts spinning the moment I rise. I’m unsteady on my feet, and it feels like the world has fallen off its axis. I stumble and fall backward onto the couch, and as my backside makes contact with the couch cushion, I realize that one glass of wine shouldn’t be putting me on my ass like this. As
consciousness starts to slip away from me, I somehow comprehend my situation. Layla put something in my wine.

  “Y-you’ve drugged me.”

  “Well, color me impressed, you actually are not a complete dumbass,” she sneers. “She did warn me not to underestimate you, which is why I decided that the gun alone wasn’t going to be enough.”

  Layla steps closer and places the gun on the coffee table before sitting back down.

  Wait. She?

  It’s pitch-black, and my head is pounding. I feel like I am having the worst hangover ever, only this time it isn’t self-inflicted. I am stretched out on a bed, and my first instinct is to pat myself down to find out if there are any injuries. After all, the last thing I remember is a gun being pointed at me. When I am satisfied that I am okay, not tied up, and that there are no bullet holes, I exhale. I wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Am I just going to walk out of here? I rise from the bed, still somewhat unsteady, and hold on to the bed frame to steady myself. I try to assess my current situation. I walk over to the windows, and when I try to open them, I find them to be painted shut. On the windowsill sits a bust of a man, which I could use to smash a window but not without attracting unwanted attention.

  I can hear voices, and I strain to hear.

  “Did you take her phone?”

  “Of course. I have disabled it, so they won’t be able to track her. She was smart enough to ditch the car she came in, but then I saw her in the security camera footage going on by foot. I have taken the car and disposed of it, too. It’s fine,” I hear Layla tell another female voice.

  My gaze immediately flies to my wrist. The iWatch is still fastened around it, but while it tells me the time, it seems that I am unable to send out a message. The voices continue to talk, and I walk to the bedroom door to listen more closely.

  “How can someone so intelligent be this stupid? In one evening, you have jeopardized everything we have worked the last eight years to achieve,” the voice bites out. “Who says she didn’t tell anyone where she went? Do you really think they won’t come looking for her? Do you understand that this is traceable? It will lead back to you, and from there it is only a matter of time before they trace it back to me. I am not going to let that happen. You are not ruining what I have worked so hard for all these years. You will not derail my revenge. I will destroy the Kingsleys if it is the last thing I do, and I’m not going to allow you to stand in the way of that. Your brother already almost ruined everything. It seems that neither of you can follow simple instructions. I’ve always known that the two of you were liabilities just like your whore of a mother.”

  “Don’t talk about her like that. She was a victim here, too. Mason Kingsley seduced her, and he was relentless. I’ve read her diary; he promised her the world. His handsome face hid his demonic personality well. I have experienced firsthand how those Kingsley men can suck you in. I am sure I would have fallen for it myself if I didn’t know that he was my brother,” Layla says defensively.

  Shut up! She’s their half-sister?

  “Don’t forget who raised you and your brother after your mother cut her wrists. She didn’t care too much about you after that Kingsley scum spit her out once he was done playing with her. I thought that you knew what is at stake here.”

  Layla is Sam’s sister? The one who supposedly died?

  “I am very much aware of what is at stake. Don’t forget that I have sacrificed everything for this. I have given up my identity to be able to destroy the Kingsleys. I have slept with my own damn brother, for Chrissake. I am the one that has spent hours listening to Mikaela whining about her problems, earning her trust so she would reveal the whereabouts of her father. It was Sam that kept a close eye on them so you could always be a step ahead, and it was Sam who figured out which patient at Hillcrest is Mason Kingsley.”

  Seriously, what is it with these Claytons and holding me hostage?

  I immediately know who she’s referring to: Mr. King. It makes complete sense; the reason why he seemed so familiar to me since day one, and the reason why I feel so strangely bonded to him. I know about so many terrible things he has done, and I know that he terrorized many people purely for enjoyment.

  “It was also the two of you who botched Mikaela’s accident. The only reason she is still walking around is because you were too weak to pull the trigger. It was also the two of you that were stupid enough to get caught stalking them and literally leaving a room full of evidence. And remind me, who had the task of destroying the relationship between the Kingsleys and Raeva? Both of you failed at that, also. Not to mention the fact that it was also the two of you who kidnapped that pathetic girl twice and failed to dispose of her. I am tired of cleaning up all your messes. Do I need to do everything myself?”

  Why do I know the second voice?

  “I have invested too much time and too much money in this to allow you to decimate my plans. Mason Kingsley caused my brother and my parents their lives, the destruction of their company and their reputation, and the death of your mother and your sister. Or have you forgotten that?”

  Okay, so not the one that died. There was another one? Why did River and I not know about her?

  “I told you, I will help you make them pay. Mason Kingsley deserves to suffer after what he did, and watching us destroy his legitimate children while he’s unable to stop us is a good first step.”

  I don’t think they realize how far from the mark they really are. Don’t they know that Mika and Mikaela were just as much victims at the hands of Mason Kingsley as anyone else he came across, if not more? I am not sure if Layla has actually ever listened to Mikaela talk about her father because she would know how cruel he was to his children.

  “Mason Kingsley is a poor excuse for a human being. He has taken everything from my family, and destroying everything he once held dear is the only enjoyment I will ever find in life. We both know that the Kingsley twins aren’t any better. I will not rest until I give them all a taste of loss like the loss I have felt and still feel every single day. Are you sure you can stomach what you have to do? Are you having some misguided sense of guilt because they are your half siblings? Because make no mistake, they wouldn’t take you in. Mason Kingsley made it clear that you would never be a Kingsley.”

  “You’re not the only one that has cleaned up the messes that were made. Don’t forget that you made some, too. Sending her ex-boyfriend to the Serenity event was sloppy,” Layla says, clearly annoyed.

  “You weren’t exactly rising to the occasion.”

  “I seduced Mika, didn’t I?”

  “Are you referring to the ridiculous video you managed to put out there? Or the couple times you managed to talk his pants off him? That’s hardly a difficult task. The two of them are still going strong. I told you to split the two of them up. You just pushed them closer together. He’s a possessive man, just like his father, and he will not rest until she’s safe. We need to dispose of her, and fast.”

  “It’s not my fault he fell for that whore’s act. Even Sam did. She has ruined everything.”

  “And Sam already paid for that dearly.”

  The harsh words alone are not the sole reason why the blood that flows through my veins turns icy. My foggy brain is finally starting to clear up some. I recognize the voice of the other person, and I instantly feel the bile rise to my throat. I had no idea that I am capable of hating someone from my very core. I didn’t even hate Sam after what he did to me, but the intense feeling of anger and disgust I feel right now is unparalleled.

  “I actually did not kidnap her. She came here of her own accord. Besides, she has no fucking idea what is going on. I’m not sure why you all think she’s so smart.”

  “Have you learned nothing from me? The second dumbest thing you can do is underestimate your opponent and what their strengths are.”

  “Ha! And that is a fact?”

  “It is.”

  “And the first dumbest thing would be what, exactly?”

&
nbsp; “Not knowing who your real enemies are.”

  I hear the bangs of gunfire, a loud thump, and then…nothing. Two shots were fired. My ears are ringing as if the shots were fired right beside my ears. I cover my mouth to cover the scream that I think is surely going to escape from me, but while I open my mouth to do just that, there is no sound. I feel as if someone is choking the life out of me. Fear seizes me; I know I need to find a way to escape, but I am completely frozen in place. I yell at myself internally and tell myself to snap out of it. I shake my head, attempting to shake it off, even if it’s only temporary. The room is dimly lit by first light, and I realize that sunrise isn’t too far away. I scan the room for something I could use as a weapon, which of course is ridiculous because Mrs. Sims has a gun and obviously has no qualms about using it. I take inventory of my surroundings. There is only one door leading out, so my only chance is to try and overpower her and then run. I pick up the bust from the windowsill; it’s heavier than I expected it to be. Just as I walk back to the door, I see the handle move. She’s coming! I swiftly move forward, shielding myself with the door as she opens it. I listen to her footsteps as she walks in.

  Here goes nothing.

  I push the door away from me and charge forward, hitting her on the back of her head with the bust. She slumps down and drops the gun in the process, which clatters loudly onto the floor. I let go of the bust, and it plummets down, too. I look down at Margaret Sims, the woman responsible for all this mess. For a second, I think I might have killed her, but she stirs and that is my cue to run. I turn on my heel, sprint out of the bedroom and into the living room, and almost trip over Layla or whatever her real name is. She is lying in a pool of blood, and without thinking, I sink onto my knees and hover over her. I check for a pulse; she doesn’t have one. I start CPR, but I know that I need to get help since it’s her only chance of survival. I do a couple rounds of CPR and check her pulse again; it’s there but very weak. This woman is batshit crazy, but she’s still Mika’s sister, and I can’t just let her die. I inspect her body for bullet wounds. I find one in her shoulder, and the other seems to be in her lower abdomen. I run over to the couch and grab some of the pillows. There is a scarf draped over the couch, so I take that, too. I try to remember how to treat a bullet wound.