everything about you •• jj maybank

thirty seven

I could feel the bass in my car thumping in my chest. The music was on full blast, echoing outside of my car and sending vibrations throughout the dashboard and against the speakers. I could feel the beat of the music all around me, and I sang along to the music as loud as I could.

The cars flew past me, and I knew I was going well over the speed limit. My hair was a tangled mess, the breeze whipping it all around as I raced down the road. My heart hadn't stopped racing since I stepped my foot out of the house.

All I could think about was riding on the back of JJ's bike, my arms around him and feeling totally free. In my own car, I have control over everything. I have some responsibility for myself.

Being on the back of JJ's bike was completely different. He could take all the responsibility and control away for me, and I just got to go along for the ride, feeling every bit of free as I do in my own car, but knowing JJ will keep me safe and take me wherever I wanted to go.

I learned to love being on the back of his bike. I learned to trust him more than ever in doing so. Driving was always my favorite way to let go and let off some steam. It was my escape of choice. But now it was different. He changed that for me.

I had noticed my voice starting to give out slightly as I sang along to my playlist, not being able to hit any notes, and cracking every now and then. It was hoarse from crying so much the last 24 hours. Fighting with my dad, with JJ, with Topper. It had exhausted not only my mind and my body, but my voice too.

I turned the music down when I got into town, realizing I was becoming extremely distracted when I had to slam on my breaks in order to avoid hitting someone on a bike.

"Sorry!" I called out the window, grimacing when the biker flipped me off, speeding off quickly.

I sighed roughly, sitting back against the seat as I came to a stop sign, and took in my surroundings.

The police station was right across the street, a few officers talked to each other outside, leaning against one of their cars. The door opened to the police station, and I saw a very familiar head of hair walking out, fast and furious.

A car beeped at me, and I glanced at my rear-view, waving apologetically at the sedan behind me that was waiting for me to move. I drove towards the station, curiosity getting the best of me. I pressed my hand to my wheel, lightly beeping at the man dressed in a grey-blue button up.

"Hi, Mr.Cameron!"

He jumped at the sound of my horn, turning around to meet my eyes. His face was tense, sweat sitting around his hairline. My eyes trailed down to his arm, seeing him holding a white rag against his skin. Blood soaked the rag and his shirt. My brows wrinkled together in concern and I looked up at his eyes again.

"Are you alright?"

He refused to hold eye contact with me, his pained expression looking everywhere else, but at me.

"Hey, sweetie. I was just heading home. Taking care of something here," he gestured to his arm, clearing his throat. "You know, while I have you, have you seen Sarah at all today, honey?"

I watched him remove the rag from his arm, and had to look away when I saw the hole in his arm. A perfect circle took shape in his arm, blood stuck to his skin and hair. It was like he had been stabbed.

"Uh, no. I haven't seen her in a few days, now. Why? Is she okay?"

I was worried now, racking my brain for any possible reason Sarah could be unsafe. Was she hurt? Did something happen?