Luv Letters

38| we both know why

"What the hell is that sound?" I whisper to myself, frantically trying to remember the directions Lilah told me a few minutes ago.

The Cameron Estate is fucking huge, and that's an understatement.

Marble floors glisten so brightly, I try my best to keep my eyes from looking at it in fear it will legitimately blind me.

I mean seriously, not a single air particle is out of place in this house.

It's hard not to stare and admire every piece of artwork and expensive furniture piece that I'm surrounded by, but after hearing what I think was the garage door, I have no other choice but to sprint up the closest set of stairs to me.

Yes there is more than one set.

Yes there is more than five sets. I mean fucks sake, the pantry looked bigger than Soph and I's room at Nate's, and we claimed the master bedroom.

Skipping two steps at a time, I feel a hand wrap around my wrist the second I reach the main platform to the second story.

My body freezes but only for a split second, but once I spot the familiar tattoos inked on to his large, veiny wrist, my body descends back down to a relaxed state.  

"Shh. Don't. Say. A. Word." Jack whispers tightly in my ear. His voice is so low I almost don't hear what he says, but the second his empty hand shoots over my mouth, I know exactly what he's asking of me.

A door slams from downstairs causing Jack to swiftly moves us down the hall. Though I'm not entirely sure where he's taking me, I know I'm safe, and that's all that matters.

The corridor is long, dimly lit, and full of family pictures. Pictures of the Cameron's I'm sure nobody else has seen, because for all the state of California knows, the Cameron's aren't a unit.

I'd be a fool to think about that right now, especially when I'm positive the man of the house is the one who just arrived home.

It's hard to keep my eyes locked on one thing with how fast Jack is dragging me through the second floor maze. His touch is firm and his breathing is silent but heavy.

A few seconds later, his hand moves away from my mouth and down to the keypad on the door in front of us.

02 14 01

A small beep fills the silent space around us and the second the pad lights up a dim green, Jack rushes us both inside.

"What's going on-"

I am unable to get my sentence out, and his hand shoots back over my mouth as he continues to frantically shake his head.

"Not right now, Doll. Be quiet for me, okay? Can you do that?" He whispers.

Jack's voice sounds reassuring, so I let it be.

Deeply inhaling, I can tell without a single question that this is his room. Between the sweet smell and the lack of character in the room, 'Jack Cameron' is written all over the space around us.

Jack slowly paces around the room typing away on his phone, for what I assume is a conversation between him and Lilah.

I take the opportunity to lurk around and get a good feel for what his life must have been like in the Brentwood house. Although he's only lived away from Santa Monica for a few weeks, I can't imagine abruptly moving away from your childhood home so easily.

Although Ford and I did the same thing, our parents only live about a fifteen minute drive from us, much closer than over an hour.

His room is midsized, which is surprising when I remember how huge this place is.