Changing You ✦ The Sequel

Chapter 38 {R}

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I threw my ruined sweater, or what was left of it, into the trash can before searching through the bag of clothes Jenna had brought for us.

There was something of mine in there, stuff I had left at their place before, but I let it slip right through my fingers.

No piece of clothing would be able to bring me the comfort I needed right now, except for one of his.

I recognised one of them, an oversized, moss green hoodie, as the one he had worn yesterday, just hours before this moment, and I couldn't even blink twice or I had already slipped it over my head.

I tugged the sleeves down my hands, feeling the soft material embrace my skin almost like one of his very own hugs.

All of a sudden his scent was everywhere around me, clinging to the air, filling up my chest, exactly the same way as I remembered it: without the sharp smell of disinfectant. The metallic smell of blood. Just the familiar smell of his detergent, his cologne. Just him, undamaged. Untouched.

I sat down on the bed, the same one I had woken up in after passing out, but this time alone in the room. I didn't mind being by myself for a little bit, giving Zach's family some time alone with him.

I sat back, leaning my head back against the wall, the sleeves of his hoodie pressed to my face, and for a while I just sat there: listening to the silence, giving my overwhelmed senses a chance to recover; inhaling his scent, collecting my thoughts, pulling myself together.

Finally feeling calm and rational enough to think about what had happened, it struck me, like a bucket of ice cold water splashing into my face.

I had turned him.

Soon after I found myself thinking about the one thing that had kept creeping up my back ever since watching the Herron siblings reunite, the interaction between brother and sister, and how much it reminded me of my own.

The whole time, I had tried to push the thought of Jack to the back of my mind. I had refused to think about it. About him. About what he did. Because it disoriented me to the point where I felt sick.

My mind kept coming up with different approaches and ways to defend his actions, to try and understand. To figure out why he did it: why he had been willing to let both Zach and Ryan die. Why he had made me watch. Why he was siding with people he barely knew instead of his own family.

But the truth was; I didn't know, and the more I thought about it, the less it made sense. The more it started to hurt. It was so unlike Jack that it could never have been my brother. But for some reason, it was.

Then I got scared. The kind of scared that feels like your stomach drops down to your toes.

Scared because I couldn't figure out any other explanation for Jack's behaviour than that he was in trouble. For all I knew they could be black mailing him. Threatening him. Hurting him to get him to do what they wanted.

The sudden worry made me feel guilty for not thinking about it sooner.

I was so caught up in my mind, coming up with the worst kind of scenarios involving Jack and Warner, that I didn't realise my phone was buzzing until it stopped. I picked up the device too late, because the caller had already hung up.