Winter Love (Book Two)

27 | Death Strikes Again

JESSE'S POV

It takes me a bit longer to peel my eyes open this morning, last night's events still at the forefront of my mind, and will remain a prominent reminder for the surprises that the sleeping boy in my arms can pull out of his sleeve. A smile tugs on my lips as my eyes fall shut momentarily, images of the night before flashing in my head, my head on swivel, as I still, somehow, find it difficult to believe that what had happened, had actually happened.

Honestly, when he'd said what he said yesterday morning, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued...turned on. Heck, I'm surprised we hadn't done something right on the spot. But in the very same breath, I didn't think much would come out of it. After  all, I'd been in a relationship with Sami for over seven months, and I genuinely thought I'd seen it all. Knew it all. And I didn't know that he could be, well...like that.

Our sex life had always been great. Heated. Not lacking even an ounce of vesuvius passion. The lingering touches, the light caresses. The gentle kisses. The sweet nothings. It was truly nothing short of beautiful. But last night just opened my eyes to a whole new world of possibilities. And with a glance down, with Sami laying on my chest, his arms hanging around me as soft snores slip past his pink lips. His long lashes casting shadows underneath his eyes. He truly is a sight to behold. But in this light of sheer adorableness, I couldn't quite shake off how he's currently a contrast of everything he was last night.

His soft skin, blending in beautifully with the light blue piece he had on, exposed in all the right ways in an image of seduction that's been burnt into my memory - permanently. Something I never thought I'd see him in, but now that I have...I'd like to see more of.

A smile graces my face, my cock getting a bit harder at the memory and I pull the boy closer to me, tightening my embrace around him, as if if there were any doubts that this wasn't real, my arms secured around him would just confirm how real this is. He shifts his lean body closer to mine, the slight movement forcing me to catch a whiff off the sweet vanilla scent I've come to associate with him, and in the back of my mind, home. In my own soppy and idealistic way, I've dreamt of moments were I'd be driving home, sometime in the future. Probably after a long day at work, with copious amounts of evidence to sift through, I'd trudge into my home and catch a whiff of pure vanilla, and everything would just be alright. Obviously, then, he wouldn't just be my boyfriend. He'd hopefully be more. I'd dreamt of the birthdays, the anniversaries, the Halloweens and Christmases, were I'd wake up with him in my arms.

And with that I steal yet another glance at Sami. In between the smiles, the pace of my heart quickens significantly at what all of this has become. Each time I've peaked into the future, drew that curtain containing aspirations of where I wish to be five, ten, even twenty years from now, things have changed. I'd once yearned over the biggest mansions atop mountains, overlooking the city, or the beach, just all round extravagant; to something more conservative. Reserved. Cozy. Someplace small and homely. I'd moved from being a no kids kind of guy, to flirting with the idea of having a kid or two, especially for times like this. Christmas. And they'd get to do all the activities I couldn't do as a kid. I'd envisioned the different cars I'd drive, or whether I'd need a car at all, but there's one thing that remained constant. An unchanging and unwavering aspect in every scenario that I imagined. Whether or not I lived in a mansion in the city or a shack in the middle of nowhere, Sami would always be there. Whether I had no kids or nine dogs, it'd all be with him. Realising this, as a mere twenty-one year old was not only terrifying, but it also seemed far-fetched sometimes.

We still had a lot of growing to do. Sami's still in high school, maybe he'll want to see the world more, who knows what that'll do to our relationship? But if anything, the past two days had truly fed into my delusions. We'd fought and argued, we'd been at each other's throats but we'd also worked things out in the end. We spoke, made up and found a way past a very rocky phase that isn't yet completely over. And this is the positive nature I adore about our relationship...a dynamic I wish we could maintain for as long as this lives.

But much like the universe always does, things can only be positive for a fraction of the time that things are negative. This candy coated, rainbow filled bubble of pure ecstasy is soon overtaken by a dark cloud of fear and anxiety, which should be expected when you have a dysfunctional family, and with the incoming call, I just know this is where the positivity ends.

It had been five years since I'd received a call from the number, but I remembered it like the last call I received was just last night. Truthfully, who'd ever forget the one number used so much it'd become a part of their speed dial? It's the same number I'd used to get Jakob locked away. The police department. So why were they calling now?

A big part of me felt like I could do very well without ever knowing the answer to that question. Just remain in the dark and act like a separate reality outside of what I have with Sami, right here, in this cabin, doesn't exist. But deep down, I just can't bring myself to. Knowing myself, the anxiety of being in the dark would drive me insane, so without giving myself a chance to back out, I swipe right:

"Hello?"

"Morning, Mr. Campbell, you're speaking to Robert Dempsey with the Sheriff's office."

"Yes?"

"We'd like to see you at your soonest convenience. We understand that you're not at home at the moment, but this is urgent."

A pool of worry swells in the pit of my stomach, my mind going to the worst possible scenarios: "W-why? Did something happen?"

"I'm afraid I can't say much over the phone, Sir."

"Mr. Dempsey, I'm two hours away from home, I need to know if anything happened...for my sanity, please."

With a resigned sigh, his next words confirm that something did indeed happen, but not even my worst case scenarios could've prepared me for his next words: "There was a shooting in your home. A fatality. We'd like to see you as soon as possible..." his words soon become drowned, muddled, my brain unwilling to put itself through the strain of trying to make sense of them anymore. His voice, faint and distant, as if I didn't have the phone pressed firmly to my ear, with one confirmation swirling unceremoniously in my head. He killed her!

He really did it!

After everything we'd done to put him away for good. After all the warnings I'd given my mom that this would be the final destination because this is how it always ends...he'd murdered my mother. He'd taken her away from me.

And one moment I'd laid sprawled on the bed without a care in the world, my boyfriend and I cozied up against one another; and the next I'd flown off the bed as if it had turned to bubbling lava, my phone discarded on the floor as I scramble to collect my clothes all across the room.

My sudden actions must've startled my poor boyfriend, sitting up with sleep ridden eyes.

"What's going on?"