3. Sean

Chapter three

Sean

I was bored out of my fucking mind, but I wasn’t complaining. Being bored was better than dead. When Layla held the gun to my head, I had never felt so empty in my entire life. All I had left was my love for her, and she was killing it. Not that I blamed her. I knew I had fucked up. When Anton spilled the beans, I knew I had little chance of seeing the sunrise the next day. If Layla didn’t kill me, one of the guys would have.

Which was why I was so surprised when Colton let me live. I knew I was skating on thin ice now, but I was more determined than ever to make amends and show Layla that she could still trust me. I groaned in frustration as the opening song for that stupid blue Australian dog started playing again. Sure, I had TV to keep me occupied, but no matter what I tried, I couldn’t change the fucking channel on any of them. All of them were playing the same show, and it had officially gotten old. I suspected it was Tyler’s doing.

My thoughts turned back to Layla. I hope she’s doing ok. Maybe it’s conceited of me to think that she is probably hurting from my “death,” but I know my girl, and if she hadn’t still loved me, she wouldn’t have hesitated to pull the trigger. Hopefully, our love for each other will be strong enough to make it through. Our relationship wasn’t even my biggest concern. It was high up there, but my biggest worry was that Anton was still a threat, and I wasn’t there to help protect Layla.

I started snooping through the apartment, searching for a way to be productive. I knew my search was futile; I had already looked through each room, but my options were limited to watching that stupid blue dog or searching the apartment again. When I got to what must have been Tyler’s room, I pulled the punching bag from the closet and hung it on the hooks. This would have to do for now.

I poured all of my feelings into my workout. Beating the bag helped to work out some of my frustrations, and I kept at it until I was a sweaty mess and my knuckles were bruised. I went to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. As I was chugging it down, all the TVs turned on, blasting the same thing: Baby Shark. I jumped and choked on my water. I quickly set the glass down and braced my hands on the counter as I coughed the water from my lungs.

Fucking Tyler. I hope he was enjoying himself.

It was still better than being dead... maybe.