Page 14 of Light in Your Eyes (Romero Brothers #1)

Kellan

I could barely get enough fucking sleep last night.

While I was lying in my bed, I couldn't stop thinking about Layla. I knew for sure that her clothes were soaked because of the incident at the fountain, and when she finally decided to take a shower, I did let out a sigh of relief.

She didn't have her suitcase with her yesterday, so I knew that she didn't have any clothes to change into. I purposely left the bathrobe hanging behind the bathroom door, and I guess she took that.

I just couldn't imagine her sleeping beside me without any clothes on. She didn't seem like a girl who would be comfortable doing that, despite the fact that I was blind.

The night was getting worse when she started crying.

She might think that I didn't notice it, but I could hear her sniffling, and it was fucking annoying.

I knew that she had just left her family, and that she was now stuck in this place that felt like hell to her, but goddammit , I hate it when girls or women cry.

Not that I cared .

Or was it annoying because I fucking cared?

Now, as the morning comes, I splash the water from the sink onto my face. My head is pounding. I brush my teeth, but I still can't stop thinking about the girl who is now sleeping in my bed.

My brain is trying to figure out what I will do today with her being around.

Her existence is already annoying me this much, I wonder how I will survive the following weeks—or worse, months.

Jaxon better fucking come back here as soon as possible so that we can talk.

I have to persuade him to send Layla away, but with the way we always argue, we will only end up fighting.

Maybe he's right. I can't fucking control my anger. But then again, he's not the one with a disability.

I step out of my bathroom, ready to have my morning jog. The sooner I can escape Layla, the better.

Layla's voice surprises me when I'm about to open the door of my bedroom. "Where are you going?" she asks.

I turn around, hoping that she will notice the irritation written on my face.

"Morning jog," I say.

I'm about to turn again when she interrupts, "Wait. Please, don't leave me just yet." Her voice holds so much vulnerability, and I can't help but feel bad. She's still trying to figure out how to adjust to this new situation.

I give her my attention again, waiting for her to say more.

"How will I have my meal?" she asks.

She didn't ask about where she could have breakfast in this house, which means that she's still afraid of getting out of this room .

"You'll get it," I say. I'd already thought about it last night. "Someone will bring it for you."

She's silent, but I can feel her uneasiness.

"Don't worry," I say. "It won't be the guys from last night. You'll get to know her soon."

She sighs in relief, knowing that it will be a girl who will come to this room.

"What about you?" she asks with a hint of curiosity in her voice.

She must have seen the confusion in my face, because the next thing she says is, "I mean, I know that you can have breakfast anywhere in this house, but I just want to know your usual routines.

Do you eat in the kitchen or dining room?

Or do you prefer to have your meal inside your room?

What about your schedules? Do you have a martial arts practice during the day?

When do you train the fighters? Do you go out—"

"I thought I made it clear that I didn't need a goddamn caregiver," I snap, not wanting to hear the rest of her questions.

She doesn't respond to my harsh statement right away, but after seconds pass, she says fiercely, "Then what do you expect me to do?"

I can hear the frustration in her voice.

"Do you really want me to go crazy, being imprisoned in this room like a lost wounded animal?

Why don't you just tell everyone in here that I am indeed your caregiver, hired by your brother?

If you had done so, I wouldn't have been picked by those jerks, and they wouldn't see me as a slave that they could just use and trash once you're bored with me.

" Her sob suddenly breaks, letting me know how much that thought has been haunting her .

I can hear her fear all over again in her voice, and my fist instantly shakes with rage again. I hate how she is affecting me this much. I don't know how to respond to her demand yet, so being the cruel man that I am, I turn my back to her.

"Kellan." Layla grabs my arm.

Her touch almost makes me explode. I don't like being touched, literally, by anyone. One who knows me better will be smart enough to maintain a distance from me.

But Layla's touch is even worse. She's shaking, begging for help. To me, she feels fragile as glass. She makes me want to pull her into me, but I want to push her away because I'm afraid that she will shatter.

What the fuck is wrong with me? This girl is making me crazy.

While I'm trying my best to hold my anger, I turn my head again. I can't see her expression when she looks at my face, but whatever it is that she sees, it gives her hope because she says, "Please. I really need your help."

"Make it quick." I can only utter those harsh words.

I know that once again, I made her heart sink, contrary to my intention of helping her.

"My suitcase," she says. "The guard outside didn't give it back to me after inspecting it. I really need it. My clothes are in there. My stuff—"

Those words are enough for me, so without waiting for her to finish her sentence, I step out of my room and shut the door behind me, leaving her alone.