I walk up the steps and see James leaving his room. He has dusty blonde hair that he sweeps to the left everyday. His icey blue eyes are the weirdest thing about him. They follow you everywhere. He reminds me a little of Gale from the Hunger Games Trilogy.
"Hey, Jamie," he greets, "how are you?" Ugh. I hate this type of question. I'm doing lovely. I was just forced to move across the world, all that I've done here has been yelled at, and now I'm being interrogated. But, I stick with the stereotypical answer.
"Fine," I answer. Let me tell you; that sentence has got to be the most often lied about in the world.
I hope I can get answers out of James because Jax obviously isn't going to spill anytime soon. He's probably down there filling Jake in on how awful this guy is and how he shouldn't be allowed to breathe the same air as us.
"Hey, do you know why Jax went nuts when I asked about the guy next door?" Almost instantly his eyes get darker and his face goes cold. What is it with this new kid?
"Don't ask," he states, "just listen. He has his reasons." Well okay. Thank you for enlightening me so much on the topic.
"Fine," I groan, " Well how do I know if it's an extra room?"
"It has nothing on the door," he answers.
"Okay, thanks," I say and walk away. I walk to the end of the hallway and see an open room. I walk in and looked around. It had a large closet, balcony, and an attached bathroom. It looks nice enough. I begin to unpack until I hear a noise and look up towards my door. Jax was standing there.
"You can't have this room," he tells me. What? You said pick an empty room. And I did. They are such hypocrites.
"Why not?" I yell outraged. First you make me move across the world, but then I can't even choose the room I like.
"I already unpacked," I rage. He will not move me; over my dead body.
"Lower your voice," he orders, "and because of that." He pointed at the window. I looked out and saw that guy in what I'm guessing is his room. Oh my Lord. This again.
"It's not that big a deal," I complain.
"Well then move," he commands.
"No," I defy. I will stand here until they bring in a casket.
"J's get in here," Jax yells calling all the boys. Oh my God. Can they chill out for a minute?
Within twelve seconds there were nine guys in front of me. Oh joy.
"One of you move her shit, the others take her to the game room so she doesn't intervene," Jax orders.
Jason volunteers to move my crap and they drag me to game room. "Stop trying to get in contact with him. He's not worth it. To him, your a pretty face to fuck," yells Jay trying to convince me to stop fighting them. That'll never happen; not until they give me a reasonable argument against him.
"That's for me to judge," I assure.
"Stay away from him, Jamisyn Logan Duncan," orders Josh. First of all, I'm not a dog. Second of all, my middle name doesn't scare me.
"No, Joshua Tyson McKay," I yell back.
"Then I will be taking this," Josh says and reaches into my hoodie pocket to grab my phone. To my horror, he pull out my blunt I had stashed away.
"What the fuck is this?" roars Justin the other cop in the household
"Well," I start then I dart out the door. I run down the road while being chased until I get to a dead end. Fuck. Well, I'm in deep shit. John grabs my bicep. I rip it out of his grip because it reminds me of what happened a few months after Jake left me. The memory I pushed so far back it shall never resurface.
"Were going home," Jack demands before lifting me over his shoulder. You know, I get that he's a firefighter, but I think this is a little far. Gosh this position is uncomfortable.
"Sorry my home is across the Pacific," I remind. Once we got home, they drop me on the couch and set the alarm. Gosh, moody much.
"Why," Jim asks his voice cracking; he was almost in tears. That sight itself made me feel worse. He's one of the more sensitive of them all. He deals with trama with families after fires, floods, and anything else like that. He works with the fire department doing that type of thing.
"I'm sorry," I sob, "it's nothing against you guys. I've been here for six hours. I've been doing this for three months. I thought Jake would tell you these things."
"What's that?" Jay asks looking at my shoulder blade and back where my ink is.
"A tattoo," I answer a little scared of their reaction.
"Fuck, how many do you have?" Jay asks.
"Only three," I answer. They looked at me with wide eyes.
"Well anyway, I want all of it," Justin orders talking about the weed. What? That's money they're just wanting to throw away.
"Don't forget her cigarettes," Jake informs. Thanks bro, way to throw me under the bus.
"Yeah, what ever else you have," Justin agrees.
"But, I need it," I whine. Do you know what it's like to have an addiction?
"No, you don't. Now hand it over," John commands.
"You guys don't know what it's like being addicted," I cry slightly.
"Your right, we don't. And we were hoping you never would. Now hand the shit over," Jack seethes.
"What the fuck is going on," demands Jax after hearing all the arguing.
"Well, I was reaching in her pocket for her phone because she was completely disrespectful to me, and instead I pulled out a blunt then she decided her best option was to sprint out the door down the street," ranted Josh. Oh boo-hoo.
"Hand it over, all of it," Jax replies dangerous calm. This is when he is the scariest; when he is calm.
"Yes sir," I run up to my room, grab like a fourth of my stash, and come back down. I handed it to Jax, and he points to the living room.
I walk in and take a seat on the couch. Suddenly, I have ten bodies surrounding me. You know that stance that guys do that make you feel like two feet tall. Yeah, imagine that times ten.
"Why?" Is the first thing I hear.
I take a deep breath. "The accident was too much. You shut me out," I say pointing at Jake, "my friends all laughed at my pain and left me, what choice did I have."
"Jake, Justin, and I all work as SWAT officers," Jax starts, "most of the cases we work, are drug addict and sales. We've seen what it does to people, and it's not pretty. You came for a fresh start."
"Yeah, and I'm a paramedic," James began," I deal with overdoses and addicts everyday and seventy percent don't make it. We care, don't let us down."
"Now, let's talk about you lying to us," Jason butts in.
"I didn't lie to you," I respond confused. Jim walks towards me holding the rest of my stash of weed and cigarettes.
"Fuck," I mutter.
"Yep, just go finish moving rooms," Jax orders frustrated.
"You just talked about trusting each other and getting a fresh start," I begin, "trust me to live in that room. Besides it's the last one with a balcony and a bathroom."
"I trust you," Jax assured, "it's him I don't trust."
"Please," I begged giving him the puppy dog eyes.
"Fine," he agreed.
Edited.
YOU ARE READING
Overprotective Times Ten {1}
Teen Fiction"Yeah, Yeah," he said, "listen to me. You stay the fuck away from him. If he tries to talk to you, run. If he touches you, you tell me and I'll take care of the shit. You got it." "I guess," I said, "but why?" "Don't ask," he told me. "Okay here are...
