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Johnson's point of view.

To say I was scared from an understatement. This man is insane. It's not Nate, it's not Skate. He burned the painting easels, he tried burning the house. He burned all paintings of Sammy, the old Skate would be heart broken if he found out. Always coming back with bloody clothes, throwing them to me. Yelling for me to wash them. He died his hair black, he pushes us around. Trying to get us to tell him where Sammy and the baby are. He's going to hurt them, and I know it. This isn't Skate and I'm scared to find out who it is.

Jack wraps his arms around my waist.

"Hey." I smile, he kisses my cheek.

"What are you up to?" He asks.

"Laundry." I say, biting my lip

"Again?" He asks.

"Yeah. He'll be here in 3....2....1." On cue he stomps in.

"Hurry the hell up." He growls, seeing I'm not done. I nod.

"Who are you? What's your name." I blurt out, regretting it once it was said.

"Just do the fucking laundry." He rolls his red eyes.

I don't reply, just move the clothes to the dryer.

When the laundry is done, I take Jacks hand as we slip out of the house. We wait a bit so 'Skate' doesn't follow. After a bit we decided to just walk to Sammy's house. I knock on the door. Jack lets go of my hand, making me frown.

The door opens and Sammy pulls us into a hug. He lets us inside and Freddie's holding Nathan, Kian sits next to him sending him little glares.

"So. This is where he lives."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

hey guys : ) CLIFF HANGER

BITCHEESSSSS anywhore.

You like it? You hate it? Let

meh know.

Otay

Bye my bad bitches stay bad.

Mwahhhhhh

~kelsey

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