9 HOURS AGO.

(Lila's P.O.V)

"Ahhh!"

I woke up from the nightmare - the memory - in a cold sweat, choking for air, gasping and flailing.

Couldn't breathe, fuck.

It'd been so realistic.

I found my hands trembling and inching up to my chest where the scar of the branding still lay.

Hidden, but always a reminder.

I slapped my cheeks in an effort to rouse myself from the trance like state where my heart beat erratically and my lungs struggled to catch air, where fear filled me and pain resounded in my bones.

I could still hear the horrified screams. Could smell that pungent mix of scents, especially that cigarette smoke. Could imagine myself helpless and bound and burning. The feeling of my chest veing branded and my flesh sizzling.

I shuddered.

Vivid.

It was so vivid.

I realized my cheeks were wet.

Ah. I think I ended up crying.

I wiped away the useless tears and stood up from the bed, breathing heavily and feeling all too hot.

I was quite sure I suffered from PTSD which, to be honest, was not a surprise. But I managed to push through. My bouts of trauma were limited because I chose to control the and not the other way round.

It was after months of mental and physical conditioning that I didn't break out in a cold sweat every time I woke up or every time someone touched me.

I broke down in the solidarity of my room's four walls, nowhere else. But I struggled my fair share. Diego and Cameron had both been enormous helps during those times and I would eternally be grateful to them.

Hardly anyone knew I suffered from it because I was good at keeping everyone at a distance and acting normal.

I was normal just....

Not entirely.

Why did I have this nightmare today?

It'd been months since I thought of the incident in such detail, had a nightmare. I only kept the burning anger and need for vengeance strumming through my veins, not the cold terror and the pain that chained me to my past.

A month before Derek's arrival in Ladenhill, I'd had my last nightmare.

Until today, that is.

It was raining slightly, clouds dark and rolling in the grey-black sky. Feeling out of sorts, I padded down the stairs and got myself a glass of water.

I released a shaky breath.

Was it a reminder that I shouldn't be happy?

No.

It was probably a reminder that I had things to finish before I decided to have a love story. Revenge came first and foremost and then I'd be happy. Happy like Mellisa would have wanted me to be.

At least I woke up before the real nightmare began. Shuddering, I stared out the kitchen window and an inexplicable urge to go check the mailbox gripped me.

I followed my gut feeling and went out, the slight rain drenching me during the short walk.

To my surprise, I found a letter.

A letter with a seal of the same motif that was branded on my chest. Closing my eyes and gritting my teeth, I hurried back inside and quickly dried myself off.

Exhaling and gripping the letter so hard that it almost crumpled in my grasp, I found myself locking my room and sitting down on the bed.

Already feeling raw from the nightmare, I tore open the letter and gulped down my hatred to read what new threat or reminder Roy must have sent.

But....

"What?"

I went over the letter.

Once. 

Twice.

Thrice.

But the words wouldn't change and neither would the meaning.

Not many had the ability to render me speechless.

But apparently, Tatiana Gambino did.

Stay away from my boyfriend, bitch. 

Or I promise you'll regret it big time. 

Derek Greyson has always been mine and that's not going to change. 

He's mine so keep your filthy paws off of him.

Threats,

Derek's Ana.

Or for you, Tatiana Gambino—your next worst nightmare because my brother called dibs on you first.

Mwah </3

For full five minutes, I sat and read it over. Again and Again, like an obsessed maniac until I felt the anger seep in. Until my heart felt like it was crushed.

I took in a deep breaths and things started making sense. The wheels in my head turned and I ground my teeth so hard, my jaw ached.

How Derek knew how to fight.

His secrets.

His apparent ex that he cherished so much.

His skills and comfort in being around violence.

And how Diego...

It didn't take me more than a minute to dial his number in the middle of night at 3 AM.

"Hello? Lila? Why are you calling me so late?" His groggy sleep-riddled voice made the fresh wounds cut deeper. 

I was angry, I won't accept that I'm hurt.

That this small part of me feels so so so betrayed and guilty.

When I didn't respond, he spoke up again but this time seriously. "Lila? Did something happen?"

I felt my chest rise and fall, the world outside faced thunder and lightning as if reflecting my very own heart. I was again at a loss for words.

What would I ask Diego?

I needed confirmation.

RIght.

"Did you.......no, Derek..." I clenched my jaw, my words failing me. "Did you know Derek was....i-involved with....them?" The stutter betrayed my innermost feelings and I crumpled the letter in my hands tightly, wishing I could tear it and burn it to ashes.

Diego's words were somber. "Yes."

Just one word but it was like spraying salt on my reopened wounds from the nightmare.

Betrayal was a real knife that pierced me in that moment. I felt like I'd been such a fool. So stupid. 

I'd known. Known Derek had a dark secret that Diego must have known. But I didn't try finding it out, not as much as Derek was hell bent on uncovering my identity as the Wildcat.

I'd known Diego had a strong reason to involve Derek at Blue but....

I cut off the call.

I remained frozen for a moment before blurring into action and feeling the tears well up. I felt my hands tremble, sprinting outside in the rain where the thunder could cloak my scream and sobs and the rain could mask my tears.

Why.

Why?

"Fucking why?"

I hated him.

I hated him so much.

Derek Greyson......you're an asshole who made me feel things for you.

And you're the asshole who dated that Monster's sister, who is no doubt related to the mafia.

"I fucking hate you."

My voice broke as the rain poured down like pellets on my skin and drenched me akin to a drowned rat. The lightning sparked a kernel of hate inside of me. A hate the likes of which I'd never felt before and probably never would.

Derek had to have known about Ana and Roy. About their position in the Cosa Nostra. About the hideous things they did.

My sobs wracked my shaking body and the humid air surrounded me. My shoulders slumped and an ache spread throughout my soul.

It was a crushing feeling I felt on a visceral level.

He might not have hidden it deliberately but Diego had.

And the mere fact that Derek was associated with those Monsters who tortured me and Mellisa, who scarred me so horribly that I shut everyone out......

To think he was the guy I was starting to have feelings for....

It made me want to throw up.

To curse myself out and beg my dead best friend for forgiveness.

For the guilt I'd bear for these unbidden feelings and Derek's revealed secret.

I wanted this pain to end because despite me screaming here in my garden where the noise was all drowned out and I carried the burden of revenge, of secrets, of trauma....

Despite all of this where the conclusion told me I should hate Derek Greyson....
A part of me just wouldn't agree.

But the bigger part of me?

It was ready to hate Derek and inflict pain on him similar to what he'd made me feel.

I looked up at the sky, closing my eyes and a twisted sense of calm swept over me.

Revenge.

That's all I wanted.

Other feelings be damned.

And just like that, I rebuilt my walls.

Derek Greyson, you won't be getting through them this time.

•♤•

PRESENT TIME

(Derek's P.O.V)

I finished with wrapping up Lila's hand in a bandage, eager to stop the bleeding before I attended to her fever.

She grunted, only half-conscious and I grabbed the bowl of water filled with ice cubes. Dipping the washcloth in the freezing cold water, I squeezed it of access water and then gently laid it on Lila's forehead.

I was rewarded with a sigh and as I sat on the chair besides her bed, taking in her distraught features, the crease between her brows and her dry lips, all I wanted was for her to get well quickly.

I hadn't changed her out of her wet clothes, of course but they'd soon after dried much to my relief.

Repeating the process, I pressed the cool cloth on her forehead until it heated up and she shifted in the bed uncomfortably.

But what really twisted the knife in my chest was her sub-conscious murmuring.

"I hate you, Derek...."

I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw as she repeated the sentence for the third time in the past half hour and squeezed the cloth tightly.

"Stop...please..." But then her whimpers and words like these followed after and my anger and dissatisfaction at her newly found hatred for me would dissipate into thin air.

So much so that I'd just wish her to hate me if she'd not make such hopeless pain-riddled sounds.

"Don't...please...just stop.." Whispers of a past that shaped her into this, Lila's words were wrecking havoc on me.

"Fuck." I cursed lowly and continued silently.

By the time it was almost past an hour or so, Lila's fever had finally reduced. I sighed in relief and my arm slightly ached but no worries.

I checked my phone to find it filled with news about Mayor Welsh and two messages from unwanted people.

I sighed and left Ana's message unopened while I blocked another of Roy's fake numbers. I quickly replied to War and Nora about my absence.

I called up Lila and found her phone on her table. Switching it on, I found it locked and only saw the notifications. There wasn't much except I saw Nora and War had texted her too so I decided to tell them she was sick myself.

Done with taking care of that, it didn't escape my notice that there weren't any messages from her parents. I felt a little guilty for invading her...privacy but it was for her benefit only so....

Glancing back at Kitkat, I found her sleeping more comfortably if not peacefully. I'd take that though.

Staring at her, I wondered just what had happened last night in the span of mere twelve or so hours that she'd developed a hatred for me.

We'd almost had a kiss and she'd blushed. I'd had a perfect birthday and she'd made it so much better. So then what had happened for her to look like her eyes had run out of tears and a fever had sneaked up on her?

I pushed back some of her mahogany hair stuck to her cheek and marveled at my tenderness to do so. 

After Ana, I truly hadn't expected to fall for anyone else but then Kitkat came into my life and everything turned upside down. Chaos took place.

I was petty sure my reputation as the womanizing bad boy had taken a heavy hit or two in the past two months. I'd found Lila interesting since day one. That's no secret. And I'd come to realize she hid many secrets. 

She was wrapped up in ash grey darkness and still her eyes managed to look like powerful storms.

I didn't realize I'd become a poet. 

I chuckled to myself and then prayed that the stand-offish approach she'd subjected me to earlier would melt away as soon as she came to her senses.

Something told me not.

The hurt and vitriol I'd glimpsed in her eyes and her actions didn't seem like it'd evaporate just like that. I might not know what caused such a drastic change but I sure as hell wouldn't let it stay this way.

And if I had plans of remedying whatever mistake I'd made to piss Lila off....

I had to get a few things arranged before she woke up.

•♤•

(Lila's P.O.V)

I came to slowly, blinking my eyes open and clearing my vision. 

I groaned as the blood rushed into my body and I exhaled, sitting up. The room was empty besides me but...

It was clean. No signs of the havoc I'd wrecked by breaking the lamp accidently and tearing papers intentionally.

I'd thrown things around like an immature child but I hadn't the option of pummeling Derek or Diego to death.

At least not at 4 AM in the morning.

I took my time observing everything and tilted my head in confusion.

There was a washcloth and ice cube filled bowl sitting on a chair next to my bed.

I didn't want to think it but....

Had Derek...been here all this time? Did he, by chance, take care of me?

The thought sent my stomach turning in displeasure.

Or was it fluttering?

I looked around for my phone and saw that on the table besides my bed, there lay my favorite books.

The Throne Of Glass book should've been in the bookshelf but it was here. Next to it was a bowl of porridge still hot enough to send out steam and a glass of milk with some cookies.

The inkling I had about Derek being here turned into almost a certainty.

This was....

My throat closed up, a lump I couldn't swallow forming there as I finally noticed that my TV was switched on and an episode of How I Met Your Mother from Season 3 was ready to be played.

I rubbed my eyes and the blurriness finally evaded me completely but everything was as it had been.

It was apparently not a illusion of my eyes.

And I couldn't decided whether I was sad at that or a tiny bit happy.

These were all my favorite things and.....

No, don't jump to conclusions. It could be Mom–

But she didn't know my favorite book.

Maybe Nora was here—

The door opened and I sat up alarmed, watching wearily as a mop of dark blue-black hair entered.

He spotted me and his eyes widened slightly as he rushed over, tantalizing tattoos on display because he had on a short-sleeved black t-shirt.

"Hey, lie down for a bit more and then you can eat something."

He pushed on my shoulders to get me back to bed and I frowned, silently observing him and putting all my remaining strength into not allowing him to push me.

Which I failed at because he was strong and I was sick at the moment.

He shook his head as if aware of what I'd been trying to do and I gave him a withering glare.

His lips twitched influriatingly and I wanted to slap his stupid handsome face.

I grit my teeth.

This was it. The moment of truth.

I had to decide which path I'd go down with him from here on out.

Did I make my anger and hatred known fully or give him the cold shoulder?

That option had a problem though. It would require for me to show emotions and now that I was no longer in a fever-induced hazy state of mind, I couldn't open up enough to show that much emotion.

So the only other option was to be curt and not let his pretty dimple and copper eyes sway my standing.

Of course, thinking about everything with a clearer mind, I knew there had to be more to Derek's story. That still didn't mean I'd forgive him though.

I promised myself to get my walls back up and I wouldn't let him come through easily this time around.

He might be able to sense my distance from him but I doubted it. I was an expert at keeping people at a fair distance and still being cordial and friendly.

I could do the same with him.

Like Diego often reminded me: Curb your emotions and think clearly about every course of action.

"Did you tend to me?" I tentatively asked, glancing at the melted ice cubes and he rose a brow.

"Who else? Do you know how much work that was?"

"I never asked you to do it." I icily narrowed my eyes.

He chuckled, "Yes, you were very vocal about that."

I cleared my throat, remembering how I'd spoken when he'd barged in. "But since it's already done, no use crying over spilt milk." I looked at him and curtly said, "Thank you."

He looked at me strangely and nodded, "You're welcome." Running a hand through his shiny dark hair, he continued.

"Rest a bit more until the porridge cools down. You can, uh, watch something or read your favorites."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

I already hated the fact that Derek had seen me at my lowest points multiple times. When I weak and vulnerable.

It was clear to me now that he'd done some homework about everything that was in my room at the moment.

"How did you get into the house and how do you know these are my favorites?" Questioning indifferently, I got on my elbows in the bed and then fully sat.

He didn't protest this time and slipped his hands in his attractive form-fitting black jeans.

"I have a spare set of keys to the Smith house, remember?"

He spoke so arrogantly and smugly that I wanted to pick up the bowl of porridge and just overturn it over his head.

But I was hungry so....

"I see."

He nodded, his copper eyes gleaming as if he knew exactly what was going through my head.

"And well, you know I observe you." He answered the second question, deciding to lean against the wall as we conversed and fuck if he didn't look like a GQ model posing.

What happened to raising your walls, Lila? You're doing the opposite by admiring him!

"Yes, the stalker tendencies." I flatly replied and he chuckled, his left dimple popping up.

Stalker tendencies or not, he did know these things about me and all this knowledge of him taking care of me today was making my head and heart fight for control over my actions.

If I was the same girl from yesterday who gifted Derek with that awesome gift and blushed, I'd have found all of this sweet as fuck.

But right now only half of me was able to feel that way while the other half plotted his murder.

I might not be able to fully hate it. But I definitely despised him and I never made it a secret that he was an annoyance better away from me.

Derek's sharp-cut jawline was accentuated and his biceps bunched as he shifted.

Stupid Ana's Derek. He could be hers for all I cared.

A fire licked at my insides and I had to water it down with thoughts of being able to perhaps punch the daylights out of him if my future conversation with Diego went alright.

"Now." He slowly walked towards me and I stilled my back, sitting up straighter as he practically got in my face, leaning down.

I willed my heart to stop clenching in pain and a weird excitement at our proximity.

"Why are you mad at me?"

•♤•

A/N

What do you think of this chapter? Any interesting theories?
The biggest secret about Derek's identity was just revealed and we had an official letter reading hehe. How was it??
I hope that Lila's reactions were authentic and what do you think will happen to their dynamic now?
Will she really be able to hate him or will he melt her heart?

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and don't forget to vote and comment! Thank you!

Till next time then!

~Skyler