Take Courage, My Heart

Chapter Twenty-Six

The line rang for an uncomfortable twenty seconds during which I couldn't stop bouncing my leg. Leander's eyes were on me even though we were on the road. It was about an hour before midnight where I was calling, so I didn't worry about how long it was taking.

"Jesse?" my Mother's voice came as soon as she answered her phone, and my mind went completely blank. My bouncing leg tensed up and I pressed harder against my ribcage as I hugged myself with one arm.

"Is it really him?" my Father asked in the background, and I opened my mouth only to close it again when nothing came out.

"Where have you been?!" my Mother started. "We've been looking for you for months. We were told you ran away but you never contacted us."

I couldn't find the energy to scoff at her. Why would I have contacted them after what had happened? I couldn't find the energy to react in any way to her words. I heard some scuffle and then my Father cleared his throat much closer to the phone's microphone.

"I don't care where you were or who you were with, but you should have at least told us you were alive and well," he said and something in me stirred.

"I wasn't," I told him hoarsely. Leander rolled his shoulders and gulped but brought his attention back to the road. We were getting close to the cabin. Maybe another hour's worth of driving left.

"You should have called us, we have been so worried about you," my Father said, paying no mind to what I had said.

"Yeah, because you were so worried when you sent me to that place," I seethed.

"We sent you there precisely because we were worried. Jesse whatever you have gotten yourself into, keep us out of it," my Mother called out, staying away from the phone but hearing what I was saying. "We've had all sorts of people come here asking about you."

"What people– who has been asking about me?" I pressed, sitting up suddenly alert and shedding a glance at Leander. He had picked up speed, laser-focused on the road but taking in the conversation I was having with my parents.

"I don't know– about a week after New Year's these two guys came around asking about you. They said they were old friends," my Mother said, "maybe they were fans of yours– I don't want to know. We don't want anything to do with those kinds of people or you."

I squirmed in my seat frantically, my heart beating in my chest. Leander wasn't moving an inch, tense and unwavering.

"Did they introduce themselves? Was one of them blond?" I asked, bringing a hand up to bite my nail.

"No, they didn't leave their names and numbers for you," she scoffed, huffing out without amusement in her tone. "And neither of them was blond."

I exhaled heavily; my sigh of relief being heard on the other end of the line. I couldn't have kept myself from sighing. It wasn't Vincent. At least, it wasn't Vincent himself looking for me at my parents' house. He hadn't gone to them.

"What have you gotten yourself into?" my Father pressed, sounding more frustrated than worried.

"If anyone comes asking again don't tell them I called you. Don't even answer the door for them if you don't know who it is," I said instead of answering. My eyes turned back on Leander again and this time he let go of the wheel and reached out to squeeze my thigh. "I am not going to be able to come by anytime soon–"

"Don't ever bother," my Mother snapped. "You and whoever you're involved with aren't welcome here."

The call was hung up and I gaped at the phone for a moment, offended and numb. Leander's hand remained on my thigh as I lowered my hand to my lap and I took a hitching intake of air.