Living With Animals

Chapter 26

Claire's POV
As she arrives at Jacob's house
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Fucking stupid ass. How was I so easy to convince into doing this? This is the last thing I want to be doing.

Yet, next thing I know, i'm ringing the doorbell to the house once called home.

Isabelle opens the door, an especially cheerful smile sporting her face.

"Claire!" She wraps me in a warm embrace, and rigidly, I hug her back. It's awkward, as I have no clue if Jacob told her. "Why are you here? I can't imagine why you would drive her on a Tuesday at 6 in the afternoon," she questions, increasingly obvious that she is oblivious and Jacob has told her next to nothing.

"I actually came to see Jacob."

"Oh, yes, alright! He's been kind of down lately and moody, so I suggest you're careful."

"No problem," I grumble, following her into the house, and setting my keys and phone on the kitchen table.

I head up the atrociously familiar stairs, up past my old bedroom, stripped bare of decorations, but still containing a few objects such as my bed, dresser, desk, couch, and nightstand. It also hold a few fake plants, and the comforter on my bed, in case I were to come stay here for a night or two as an escape.

I reach Jacob's room, and the door is shut and locked. I knock but all I hear is a muffled, "go away" and a pillow being chucked at the door, a small wince from him afterward.

I grab the key I remember Jacob telling me was above his doorframe and unlock the door to find Jacob looking at me in shock, tears in his eyes as he clutches his shoulder. His face a pale, and it looks like he may be burning up, as even though his skin is ghastly light, his cheeks are a fiery red color, as well as his forehead.

"Jake!" I gasp in worry, rushing to him. As much as I hate him, I care about him deeply.

"Go away, I'm fine."

"No you're not," I retort, lifting a hand to his forehead. The moment I touch his forehead, he seats my hand away, wincing at the pain through his shoulder and it worries me. Though in the split second my hand was there in his face, I could feel the heat. "Jacob you're burning up."

He only shakes his head.

"I'm fine."

"You're far from fine, Jake." I go to lift his hand off is shoulder, but he grips to it tightly. "Please let me see your shoulder."

"It hurts to take pressure off of it, Claira. Almost as much as it hurts to put pressure on it."

"So why are you pressuring it."

"Because eventually the pain numbs." I roll my eyes at him and pry his hand off his shoulder, only to see insane swelling redness, clearly not from him gripping his shoulder, but from his shoulder. His arm is so slim, his shoulder is almost popping out of its skin. I look at the other arm in comparison and that's what leads me to believe somethings wrong.

That and the fact that he passes out a moment later.

"Isabelle!" I yell. No reply.

I don't have time to waste, so I rush to Lakens room, starting to tear up.

"Claire? What's wrong?"

"It's Jacob. Call an ambulance please. It's an emergency."

"O-okay," he responds frenzied and shook as his takes out his phone. I run back to Jacobs room, breathing heavily throughout my sobs and cries.

Please be okay.

I feel his forehead, but it's still burning up, then check his pulse, which is luckily normal. I assume the high fever made him pass out, which means the fever must have been above 101°f.