With a satisfied step in her stride Layla made her way to her room, on route she caught one of the boys that fetched water and ran errands and told him to start a bath going for Mr West in her room.<br/><br/>To everyone around her Layla was a confident and happy woman, only Lola knew something about her past and the ghosts that haunted her but even she didn't know just how deep the darkness of her past went, Layla had run as far as she could to make sure of that. She often wondered were she would be if Lola hadn't rescued her when she did. She owed that woman so much, she always said a pray for her each night even though Layla questioned the existence of God because if there was a God why would He allow the things that happened to Layla to happen at all. Either that or she was truly as worthless as so many men had called her throughout her life and she was beyond His loving and care<br/><br/>As she reached for the door handle to her room out of an instinctive habit her hand wandered to the blade she had hidden in her corset, a wickedly sharp stiletto blade in a hardened leather sheath that she could secure to any of her corsets, all she need do was reach between her breasts. She forced her hand away and entered the room but her untrusting eyes searched the shadows of her room.<br/><br/>She quickly set about lighting some candles, the cheery light of the dancing flames helped to force back the darkness of the room and her mind. She set about making the room and herself ready for Jackson. As she straightened the white crocheted bed covering her hand involuntarily wandered to the small pistol she kept under her pillow, feeling it's familiar weight she contemplated momentarily about removing it but old habits died hard for Layla so she left her trustworthy little friend where it was sure that West would be to busy to find it anyway.<br/><br/>Layla folded herself into the well padded arm chair that sat near a full length mirror and chest of draws and began undressing.<br/><br/><br/>