Behind The Mask

9

*Liv's P O V*
There was a troubled look on Derek's face and that was one heck of a warning. I followed his dark gaze and saw what I had missed in my earlier agitation.

Whatever else the intruder must have wanted, he had made a shambles of my cabin. Ripped-up sofa cushions lay scattered around the room, fluffy dumps of foams and fiberfill stuffings littering the floor. Books had been pulled from the built-in shelves and discarded. The glass shade of a floor lamp which lay on it's side shattered.

I was left boneless and despairing as every ounce of adrenaline seemed to drain from my body in a flood.

"Oh No!"

"Who did this?" Rick's deep voice rumbled up in my spine. Oh he is still here!

"Who do you think?"

"Why would someone do this?"

I turned to meet his troubled gaze. There is no freaking way I am gonna trust this nigga. "I have no idea." That was obviously a lie. I had a couple of ideas actually. I am not just sure which one is the right one.

"I should call the police." My nerves reawakened in a rattling jangle. "No!"

"Your boss?"

Hmm, Jonathan would know what to do. But could I really trust him? I knew Jonathan's interest in me was anything but unselfish and altruistic. He might be my boss, he might  even have been my savior at a particular dangerous time of my life, but he wasn't my friend.

Heck I don't have any friends, not anymore. "You need to go." I said in lieu of an answer.

"And what if that guy comes back?"

"He won't!" I said even though I knew someone would eventually come back. The only thing of value in this cabin is my computer system and it is locked behind about five levels of physical security. Even if someone gets to steal my computer, that person will have one hell of a time trying to get past my digital security.

I might look like an ordinary woman these days, but am not. I am not ordinary at all.

By the way, why is Derek still here? The more time he wastes standing in my cabin, the lesser my chances of escaping before any other jerk decides to come back.

"Will you please leave my house?"

"Okay, if that's what you want, I'll go." Derek's voice was outwardly calm, but I heard a thread of discord vibrating just beneath the surface. "But I need just one more question answered."

I sighed. "Go on!"

"Why on earth do you think you owe me ten thousand dollars when you know as well as I do that I stole that money from you?" My stomach knotted painfully. Well, hell.

"Has something happened to you, Liv? You didn't remember me right away today at the diner. You didn't remember anything about the money. And right now, you are looking at me as if you have never seen me before!" He took a step closer to me, slowly and carefully, as if he expected me to bolt or something.

He wasn't entirely wrong. Even now I could feel the muscles bunching in my legs, as if my body was instinctively preparing for flight.

"A lot has happened in my life." I answered carefully in a neutral tone. "I lost my sister. I left everything I knew to make a new start. And I didn't expect to see you here."

"That's definitely not the answer to my question."

"That's all the answer you are gonna get."

"Aiit" He reached inside his jacket. Adrenaline stormed my system again and I brought up the pistol to bear on him. "Do not!"

He stares at me with his dark eyes wide. "My God Liv, what has happened to you?"

"Take your hand out of your jacket." To my dismay, my voice trembled but my hand remained steady.

"I was just reaching for this cashier's check I have for the ten thousand dollars plus interest."

"I don't need the money neither do I want it."

"I need to give it to you." His voice sharpened. "I owe it to you and if i don't do this-"

"Give it to charity."

His eyes narrowed at what I said. "Your place just got trashed and you are telling me you don't need some money to, you know buy things to replace these damaged things? Like a new sofa?"

Of course I could use it, I just couldn't take it. Not from him. Not this way.

"Just give it to charity. If you want your sins off your conscience, do it that way!"

"Fine!" His dark eyes snapped with a flare of anger but it was gone almost as soon as it arose. He removed his hand from his jacket and reached up to touch the back of his head, wincing as he did so. When he brought his hand in front of him, his fingers were sticky with blood.

This reminds me of what happened three years ago. That night when I had come home to a house on fire and my sister lying dead on the living room floor. I had known, in the brief seconds I had to make my decision, that there was nothing I could do anymore for my twin. The blood pooling out of my sister's head painted a gruesome picture of what had happened while I was picking up takeout for our dinner.

My sister had been murdered, the fire set to cover up evidence.

And, for better or worse, I'd let it burn.

To be continued...

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6th September, 2016