Chapter 49

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-Vivian's pov-

"Hey, kid, Shawn's going to be fine," Jack reassures me, "And so are we." His hand goes over mine, tucking my fingers in his.

"What the hell?!" I yank my hand out from his, unused to the feeling and it seeming wrong.

"One of the cars behind us..."

Once I see the sleek black Ferrari he is referring to I nod knowing the end of his sentence already. Releasing the frustration in my joints, I return my hand to Jack's. As we continue to drive, I make a habit of checking the rearview mirror and the side view as well at five minute intervals. The distance of the suspected car gets closer, then fall behind in pattern.

To test our dreaded theory, Jack takes the exit ramp. Just as we thought, but considered it to be unfortunate, the car followed us.

"Jack G and I have a cabin out here, it's passed a huge intersection, we'll lose him there and you can shower or something there if you'd like. But if you want to call Shawn I recommend you use this." He pulls a burner phone from the glove box, then into my shaking, clammy palms.

No less than fifteen minutes later, we pull on to a hidden street shrouded by large pine trees. The only thing that the headlights illuminate is more road or trees. About twenty feet into the darkness he shuts off the headlights. Eventually the unlit road hits a narrow gravel drive way, Jack breaks the near silence in telling me the pebbles were louder than pavement, and therefore safer incase someone tried to break in. When the car shuts off Jack looks to me, as safe as it was here he and I both know we wouldn't be able to risk spending the night.

Once inside, it suddenly felt alright to breathe. It's as if there was suddenly air again that had been scarce or even nonexistent,  and this cabin seemed just as welcoming as the air filling it, despite the faint aroma of marijuana. There was high ceilings, with large windows and a loft on the opposite side. In the corner, a beat up couch sat across from a small flat screen tv that'd been positioned above a fire place-which appeared to have retired before the boys purchased this place.

"Bathroom is to the left, if you want to shower but warning the water gets cold really quick and the fan to clear the steam doesn't work well and makes the room smell weird." Jack shrugs, then walks slowly to the couch and throws himself down, "If you don't mind I'm going to take a quick nap while you shower, but if you don't want me to I'll just make some coffee." He understood what might have made me feel vulnerable, and he seemed to want to do take all measures to avoid that.

"Uh, I think I'll be alright." I rock back and forth on my heels, glancing down the white tile floor which continued into the bathroom. If I hadn't remembered that he wasn't a very heavy sleeper-which I learned once when he's passed out drunk at Ian's and awoke from the sound of me quietly crying next to him- I would've have dreadfully asked him to stay up.

The bathroom had the same, shiny floors that rest of the house did and tinged pink counters, which they'd probably been too lazy and lacking the money to renovate. Minutes after I turn the water on, the tiny room fills with steam. I meant to relax under the almost hot water, though I can't when I swear I hear others in the hall. Trying to dismiss it, I struggle to convince myself it's but paranoia getting inside my head at a surprising rate of detail.

Like Jack had told me the water began to drop in temperature after about ten minutes. Trying to clear out the steam I flip on the fan, but in the thick screen of fog I feel as if someone is watching me from the corner, which causes me to rush out barely holding my towel to my body. "Jack?" I practically scream, the palms of my bare feet slapping the floor harshly.

When he doesn't answer my stomach knots. Disrupting the unpleasant silence, the faint echo of keys turning in the door seem much louder than they really are. Upon noticing the–uncomfortably nerve racking–sound, I stumble up to the loft hastily. I duck under a desk, next to the bed and attempt to remain as quiet as possible despite my heavy panting.

"Vivian?" Jack's voice drowns out my rapid heartbeat in my ears. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit." He mumbles is response to my silence. Somehow he hears me as I start to hyperventilate. His feet thump up the stairs at what seems to be full speed. "What's wrong?"

"I couldn't find you, and I swore I felt s-s-some-one watching m-me." I feel my cheeks heat up in distress.

He grabs me, then pulls me against him. "Here, you'll be more comfortable if you put this on." He pulls off his sweatshirt, that he'd borrowed from Aaron a few weeks ago.

"Th-thanks." I slip it over my head and move the towel so it only covers my hips and below. "It's not like you haven't seen me in this state before." I attempt desperately stifle a laugh to distract me.

He nods, barely giving what I said a second thought as we both knew it was only unspoken truth. "Should we go?"

"Please." I whisper leaning my head against the wall.

So I made an account for all the non-fanfic I write and it's what my user was before I changed it
@tea_and_a_pen

Even though I'm kind late happy holidays

Love y'all
-grace

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