Winter Love (Book Two)

20 | Dirty Dastard

JESSE'S POV

Ever since I came back from school, these winter holidays have been everything but easy. From being caught up in the dramatic situation at home with Jakob's return, to Sami's deteriorating mental state that was severely affected by the actions of my step-sister, things really have been tough.

But over the past couple of days I truly believed I had found a flow I was more than content in. I spent my days with my boyfriend, ate dinner with Rose and Miguel - who absolutely adore Sami, and then I'd spend the night in my dad's trailer. Life, for the first time in a while, was cozy. So cozy that I wouldn't have seen this storm coming even if there were warning signs before.

It had been three days since I last spoke to him. I had tried calling, texting, heck - I'd even showed up on his doorstep just yesterday, only for his mother to open the door; guilt still very much present in her usually cheery persona. I mean, Sami is one of the most soft spoken people I know, and to see him so worked up that his eyes shone with emotion, a vein bulging on his forehead as he spat furiously about the manner I've treated him, at the secrets his mother's kept hidden...yet as pure as our intentions may have been, as pure as my intentions were; everything just got lost in my desperate attempts at being a half-decent boyfriend. And like Jakob would say, I found a way to fuck up.

By trying not to force him into anything that may trigger any deprecating thoughts, I inadvertently deprived him of probably the one thing he needs the most: affection; which is exactly like leading him to the lions den, only this time, the lion is unforgiving anxiety.

That, is exactly why he was so upset...and apparently when I'm upset I make stupid decisions because after all this time: what in the hell am I doing back here?

The two storey house sits comfortably on the corner lot, nestled right in the middle of these estates. While it's exterior façade may be deceptively gorgeous, this house hid a horrifying monster within its confines. A 6'4 torturer that is absolutely nothing more than a sorry excuse of a man. A monster that has my mother eating out of the palm of its hand, dancing to the beat of its drum - as she knew very well if she missed a beat, even by a mere second, there'd be hell to pay.

Yet still, I kill the engine and step out of the car, pulling the bomber jacket closer to my body to protect myself from the ruthless wind. I march my way all the way to the front door, swinging it open, the dimly lit hallway welcoming me in. Despite the fact that I had just walked inside, the temperature in the house felt just as cold as the outside. Devoid of any love, truly making me wonder why anyone would actually choose to stay here.

I walk deeper into the house, the living room to my right completely empty, as the TV did its bit in filling in the space with some background noise, the tiniest semblance of life. I walk deeper into the house, seeing that some light poured out of the kitchen.

I slowly head into the kitchen, peeking around the corner and startling my poor mother, who's eyes widen, before she dips her head below the kitchen island to look for something:

"Jesse," she says, "what are you doing back?"

Confusion swells in me at the more than odd question, I mean, I only finished packing my clothes five days ago: "What do you mean?" I ask, walking into the kitchen, and helping myself to one of the apples that she keeps in a large bowl on the island.

"Are you here to get your clothes? I was wondering when you'd come back to get them?" she adds quickly, her frame still hidden behind the large marble island, silently confirming that something had indeed happened in my absence.

"Mom" I say softly, my jaw set, "let me see your face." Before she even shows her face, I already have an unsettling inkling of what I'm going to see when she finally raises her head - and it damn near makes me double over and retch my guts out; as this is beginning to resemble the exact life I thought we'd escaped four years ago when he was thrown behind bars: "Mom, let me see your face or I'm calling the police..."