35. Deserving

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Chapter 35—Deserving

Leah's POV:

I valued my sleep more than anything. So when my cell phone's harsh ringing at two-thirty in the morning woke me up, I was feeling extremely homicidal.

Lifting my head from the pillow seemed impossibly heavy, but I managed to do it as I ripped my phone out of its charger, squinting at the bright screen to look at the unrecognizable number. Disorientated, I rubbed my eyes with my free hand as I answered the call, grumbling out a tired, "Hello?"

"Hi, princess, it's me." Dylan's breathy voice immediately got rid of any kind of drowsiness that had been present, prompting me to sit up in a confused haze as I leaned back on my right arm.

"Dylan?" I sleepily asked, brows knitted together in confusion. "It's the middle of the night—are you okay?"

"Not really," came his response, a light humorless chuckle following after. "I'm in bit of a pinch and you're the only person I can really call."

Instant worry flooded me, my exhausted mind going haywire as I thought of all the possibilities of situations he could've gotten himself into. Dylan could be hot headed, just like Klara, and that always lands people in bad situations. "Why? What's going on? Where are you?"

Dylan hesitated, making my skin crawl. "I'm in jail."

I froze, my phone still pressed against my ear as my eyes widened almost comically. My eyes flitted around my dark room as I tried to make sense of the three words he had uttered, my mind working a bit too slow for my liking. "You're... In jail?" I repeated carefully, making sure I had heard him correctly. "What the—what're you doing in jail?"

"I'll explain everything to you later. Can you just—can you pick me up? Don't have my truck or any cash on me for a taxi," Dylan spoke, sounding as tired as I felt.

Running my hand through my hair, I tossed my blanket off me, feet touching the soft carpeted floor. "Yeah, I'll be there in ten," I assured him, before hanging up. My pajamas consisted of flannel pants and a black V-neck, so wearing a sweatshirt over and pulling on my loafers, I grabbed my phone, keys, and wallet and headed out.

Quietly making my way down the stairs and through the dark house, I finally got outside and got into my car, reluctantly starting my car as the engine came to life. Praying my parents hadn't woken up, I backed out of the driveway, assuring an awake yet puzzled Jerome that I had an emergency errand to run, before driving in the direction of the police station.

With the heat and radio on, I drove down the quiet streets, passing a very occasional car as my right elbow was propped on the windowsill of the car, head leaning against my hand as my left one was kept on the wheel. By now I was fully awake, wondering why in the world Dylan was in jail in the middle of the night. I had a long day for work today, with several photo shoots back to back even with Klara gone, and all I had wanted to do was sleep. Guess that's a luxury I can't afford at this point.

Pulling up to the police station, I killed the engine and stepped out of the car, shoving my belongings in my sweatshirt pocket after locking the car. I jogged up the steps of the station, desperate to get out of the cold as I stepped into the warm police station, immediately making my way towards the front desk.

The officer behind the desk glanced up at me as I approached him. "Hi, I'm, uh, looking for Dylan Tanner? He called and said he was here..." I awkwardly explained, not sure how it worked here. Also, I was tired, so my confusion was justified.

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