Chapter 3
Layla's POV
Blood stuck to my hands, warm and gross. Jett's body lay sprawled, the broken bottle in my shaky grip. My chest hurt, each breath sharp with panic. My brain screamed: run, or you're next. Agnes would kill me, or the pack would.
I dropped the bottle, its sharp edges cutting my palm deeper. I had to clean this up, fast. I grabbed bleach from under the sink, pouring it over every surface Jett had touched. The sharp smell burned my nose as I scrubbed frantically at the floor, erasing bloodstains, wiping away fingerprints. I carefully cleaned the bottle too, making sure my prints were gone, then wiped down his body methodically, removing any trace of myself.
My muscles screamed as I dragged Jett's body to the outhouse, his dead weight making me gag, blood soaking my dress. His empty eyes stared, and I wanted to scream. Each step felt like miles, my heart pounding so loud I was sure someone would hear.
I ran to the landfill, my bloody clothes stuffed in a bag. I tossed them in, watching the shredder tear them apart. No evidence left. I cleaned the wine bottle and threw it deep into the trash pile where no one would find it. My hands stung from cuts and bleach, but I couldn't stop.
Back at the storage room, I scrubbed again with more bleach, hands burning, the smell choking me. Every creak made my heart stop, my mind picturing Agnes's scream. Sweat dripped, my hands shaking. I'd killed someone. They'd find out.
The orphanage was quiet, creepy in the dark. Agnes and the kids slept, their meanness off for now. I crept from the storage room, floorboards creaking. Each sound made me jump, pulse racing. What if Agnes is awake? What if she sees blood?
My bruised hands shook, pain nothing next to the fear choking me. I hugged the wall, moving quiet to the room I shared with Olivia, bare feet cold on stone. A board squeaked. I froze, breath stuck, eyes scanning the dark. Nothing.
I slipped into our room, door creaking. Olivia sat on our cot, rose-gold hair shining in moonlight, blue eyes wide. "Layla? What's wrong?" Her voice was soft, scared, clutching our thin blanket.
"Pack your stuff," I said, low and fast, grabbing our things—a ripped dress, a broken brush, one sock. "We're leaving. Now."
Her face scrunched. "Why? The shifting ceremony's soon. We'll get our wolves, Layla. We'll be free. This is home."
I shoved the brush into a sack, hands shaking bad. "No questions, Olivia. It's not safe." My voice broke, Jett's blood flashing in my head, his creepy grin burned in my mind.
Olivia's eyes narrowed, stubborn. "I'm in love, Layla. With Raze. He's good. Took me to a movie, got me strawberry cake. I'm staying with him."
Anger hit, hot and fast. "What?" I spun, voice a harsh whisper. "That rogue? You crazy? He's dangerous, Olivia! Why talk to him?"
Her chin lifted. "He's kind. Listens to me. Makes me feel wanted. I love him, Layla. I'm staying."
"No," I snapped, heart twisting. "You're coming with me. End of story." I turned back, stuffing the sack, mind racing. Raze was a rogue, no pack, wild. He'd ruin her.
Olivia's voice shook, louder. "No, Layla! I love him! You can't make me leave!"
I faced her, fear and anger crashing. "You think Raze is your savior? He's a rogue! He'll use you, ditch you! We're all we got, Olivia. Don't you see?" My voice cracked, tears burning. She was my sister, my only family, picking a stranger over me.
Her eyes shone, but she didn't budge. "You don't get it. He sees me. Not the orphan, not the 'whore's kid.' Me. I'm not leaving."
We stared, breaths heavy in the tiny room. I wanted to scream about Jett's blood, how I fought to save us. But I couldn't. "We're leaving," I said, voice hard. "No choice."
By dawn, I collapsed on our cot, body aching, fear eating me alive.
Morning hit fast. Agnes's scream ripped the air. "Murder! Murder!" Her voice was shrill, pulling kids to the yard. I grabbed Olivia's hand, heart pounding. "Don't say nothing," I whispered, squeezing hard. "Not a word."
Her eyes searched mine, scared. "Layla, what'd you do?"
"Just… didn't want Agnes to hurt you," I said, voice empty. Not the whole truth.
Outside, kids gathered, faces shocked or nosy. Jett's body lay in the open, pants undone, head bloody. The stink of death already clung to him, bodily fluids leaking and pooling beneath him. His face was frozen in shock, eyes bulging, tongue protruding slightly between swollen lips. Dark bruises had formed across his exposed skin, and dried blood caked his matted hair. The gash on his head revealed glimpses of what lay beneath. Several kids turned away, gagging. The putrid smell made everyone cover their noses and mouths. Clara and Finn smirked, eyes on me.
Agnes pointed, face twisted. "You did this, Layla! Always chasing Jett, you slut! Murderer!"
Clara laughed, tossing her braid. "It's her. Jett was too nice to that trash. Bet she teased him, then killed him when he said no."
Finn sneered. "Yeah, Layla's a whore. Probably liked it till he dumped her."
My hands shook behind my back, nails digging into my palms. I didn't tease him. I fought him off. Their words hurt, but I stayed quiet, sweat dripping down my neck.
Olivia stood behind me, trembling and silent, her fingers clutching the back of my shirt.
Beta Jasper arrived with Soulless Pack wolves, his black hair and dark eyes sharp. His gaze immediately caught on my hands, and he stepped closer, frowning.
"What happened to your hands?" he asked, voice low but commanding.
I tucked them behind my back, heart racing. Then, thinking quickly, I brought them forward.
"Agnes did it," I said firmly, meeting his eyes. "She made me clean the storage rooms yesterday as punishment. Made me use bleach with my bare hands, said I was a little bitch who needed to learn my place."
Agnes's face contorted with rage. "That's a lie! You worthless—"
"Shut your fucking mouth," Beta Jasper snapped at Agnes, his eyes narrowing. "I've seen how you treat these kids. Wouldn't put it past you."
Agnes stepped back, momentarily stunned into silence.
"Where were you yesterday?" Beta Jasper asked me, his expression unreadable.
"Cleaning all day," I answered quickly. "Agnes had me sweeping and scrubbing floors. Then I went back to my room. Olivia was with me the whole evening, right?"
Olivia peeked from behind me, her face pale with fear. She nodded quickly. "Y-yes," she whispered. "Layla was punished by Agnes to clean the storage room, then she was with me in our room all night."
Beta Jasper's eyes lingered on us both before he ordered a search, wolves tearing through every room. They ripped open mattresses, dumped drawers, and tossed our sack, the brush hitting the floor.
They checked under cots, tore apart shelves, even shook out blankets. My heart raced, sweat soaking my shirt. Did I miss blood? Did they find the bottle? I could barely breathe, my mind screaming they'd catch me. I saw the landfill in my head, the shredder chewing my bloody dress. It was gone, but my hands shook, fear choking me. Olivia never left my side, silent and trembling behind me.
They flipped Clara's room, Finn's too, leaving clothes and books scattered. Nothing found, but Jasper's eyes kept flicking to me.
Jasper knelt by Jett's body, nose wrinkling at the stench. "She's not eighteen," he said, eyeing me. "No wolf. You think she could take him down? He's huge."
Agnes smirked, stepping close. "Jasper, if I give you proof, what's my reward? We need a new groundskeeper—someone strong."
Jasper's eyes narrowed. "Run your home, Agnes. I'll tell Alpha Kael." His gaze hit me, sharp, and I looked away, skin crawling.
Does he know?