Hey guys!
So here is the next chapter. This one is a bit dark compared to the others. Let me know what you think.
Layla woke up bright and early the next day. She needed to get to the gym. She grabbed her water bottle and towel and headed down the hall.
Feeling sluggish from last night's self-induced sugar coma, she slowly trudged along. She sighed, serves her right. Why does pigging out always seem like a good idea at the time but after the fact you're beating yourself up about it.
She'd be fine. She would just push through it.
As she walked down the hall her thoughts inevitably went to Merle. She stopped in front of his door, raised her fist to the wood... and hesitated.
She inhaled and exhaled. Nope. Not right now. What was she thinking? It was way too early and she did not need to be distracted right now.
Turning the corner, she continued towards the end of the hall. She wondered if this gym was even open. The other gym on the first floor was always an option. It was huge and luxurious; definitely bigger than her local fitness center back home.
She hadn't seen anything like the one here. It was complete with weight stations and all the state of the art equipment you could imagine. Directly next to it, there was a Turkish bath with elaborate saunas, salt and fresh water pools and therapeutic steam rooms. There was even a couple of massage therapists that were ready to work on you when you arrived.
The temple-like structure was designed with intricate blue and green mosaic tile work and high ceilings with natural light. The bath doors lead you outside to a private infinity pool and fresh juice and smoothie area.
Pure heaven.
Although all that sounded... wonderful. The small gym down the hall was exactly what Layla needed; small and intimate.
It was rather strange it was on the 4th floor in the first place. She hoped they didn't mind if she used it.
Jason and Sienna had a rule that all who was employed by them had to take an hour a week just to unwind.
They believed it promoted good health and good health led to productivity. Hippies... they were affectionately called by the locals. It was unheard of that the help share the owners' facilities. It was easy to see why the Bane estate was the most popular place for anyone in the service industry to work.
She walked through the door and stopped when she heard something. She quickly scooted to the door's corner. There was someone already here. That's odd. It was barely 6am.
She discretely peered around the corner and could make out a tall, bald man who was very strong. Squinting her eyes, she concentrated on the fast movements. The man was completely focused and didn't realize she was there. He appeared to be performing some kind of mixed martial arts moves. He wore loose white pants and was bare-chested and barefoot.
Layla stood transfixed as the man's swift and agile movements overpowered the small space. His back was towards her so she observed quietly. He was so succinct it almost looked like a coordinated dance. A lethal calculated dance.
He slowed his movements and she was able to really observe him.
Both hands faced heavenward as if in solemn prayer. Slowly his right arm extended and sliced the air like a knife. He let out what sounded like a soft hiss and pulled it back slowly.
His arms flew like a tight windmill around him and then slashed down towards the floor with a grunt.
His back arched and he flipped in the air as if dodging his opponent's blow.
Layla watched as if in a trance. Whatever he was fighting would surely be dead by now.
He continued throwing jabs and powerful blows to his invisible opponent. The only sounds she could hear were distinct exhales and soft grunts.
It really was spectacular to watch. He was so quick and unpredictable; every second deserved to be documented.
Layla noticed there were distinct tattoos that ran up his back, through both shoulders and down his chest. The dark ink swirled, blended and ran together as he moved. As if the tribal markings were running right through him... with him.
Suddenly he flipped and held himself on one hand while looking down. He slowly held his whole body upside down on his right hand.
Layla could almost feel his fierce concentration. He stayed in that unmovable unnatural pose for a couple minutes. Testing his strength against his own body.
There were tiny beads of sweat that carelessly dropped to the floor. His right arm's veins bulged and his body softly vibrated. But he held his perfect posture while upside down. His face seemed serene, calm. Then he slowly descended that same hand creating the most difficult reverse pushup she'd ever seen. One-handed and upside down. He held his position there as he gazed to the floor... in defiance of the odds.
She got a good look of his eyes then. They looked to be crystal bluish green, like the shallow end of a bottomless lagoon.
Just then his gaze connected with hers. Layla shrieked in surprise; a second before the stranger slipped out of balance and tumbled to the floor.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you." Layla rushed over to try to help him.
Silence.
But he was already up before she reached him.
"Are you alright?"
The stranger looked at her with a neutral face.
While close Layla noticed the intricate design of his chest tattoos. She thought it was one design but it was actually different ones that ran together. Some foreign text and markings she guessed might be Arabic. It looked like there might be scars covered by the design. When he caught her looking at him he quickly walked away and grabbed his towel from a bench. He threw the towel over his right shoulder.
"I didn't know anyone used this place. I just came in for a workout and didn't want to interrupt you. Do you work here or are you a guest? My God I'm sorry I could've sworn I met everyone here in the house."
Silence.
The stranger looked at her curiously. Layla unconsciously scratched the back of her head. Did she really just ramble on and on? It must be the remnants of all the sugar she consumed last night. Layla was so embarrassed. Of course here she was rambling off to a man who obviously didn't speak English.
"English? Do... you.... speak...
Angli-ka
?" Layla huffed while trying to remember the right words. "
Me le ne...
Layla." She pointed to herself and then stretched out her hand in greeting.
The stranger continued to look at her as if considering her words. But then he abruptly turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her with her hand hanging mid-air. Layla stood there confused. Even the local people she'd met had always been friendly enough to respond, even if it was in Greek. Well, she guessed not all the locals were friendly. He was probably annoyed she interrupted his little routine.
"No need to be rude asshole." She muttered under her breath.
The man confidently strode out of the gym without sparing her another glance.
Layla shrugged. Oh well, at least now she had the gym to herself.
...
Sean turned the corner, glanced behind him and slipped into his room.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He punched in the air. He was fucked. Completely fucked.
He hadn't heard Layla come into the room until it was too late.
Out of all the people to catch him; it just had to be her to see him. He didn't know how to react so he remained silent. At least for the moment she didn't recognize him. If he spoke, he wasn't so sure how long that would last. Looking back, he should've just come clean about the whole thing.
But one look into her inquisitive eyes and he was tongue-tied. It wasn't the right time.
How could he have been so careless? With everything. He could've sworn he locked the gym door but apparently not. Sean ran his hands over his face. He was slipping in every way imaginable. Now was not the time.
"Fuck!" He huffed again.
His breathing was irregular and all he saw was red. Pure rage.
Suddenly he punched the wall. Immediate regret followed as he saw the crumbled pieces of drywall fall from the now gaping hole in the wall.
Shit. He needed to get out of there. They were close, he could feel it. They were coming for him.
But first he needed to calm down.
He held his breath for two counts and exhaled. Held his breath. Exhaled.
When his breathing finally slowed, he was clearheaded and felt better. Awkwardly he shoved to crumbled pieces into the wall so it wouldn't look so bad. He'd have to tell Sienna it was a freak accident or some shit like that.
After a cold shower, he got dressed and slipped out of the house. The sun was barely rising and the streets were quiet.
He pulled his hoodie over his head and walked smoothly in the shadows staying close to the large shady trees.
After a couple of blocks there were little shops that came into view. Down the street, Sean could see iron gates roll up and a small plump woman, humming in an apron emerged. With a large broom in her calloused hands, she happily swept the front steps oblivious of being watched. She was really into her song and at one point stopped sweeping and used the broom stick as a microphone to belt out a particularly high note.
