Framed [COMPLETED]

Chapter 15

A clap of thunder awakens me. I crane my neck to look out the window. A storm is rolling in. Midwest summer storms are always terrible.
I look at the coffee table and find a roll of saltines, glass of water, a bucket, ibuprofen, and a note.

Meat for dinner wasn't good, went to store. Stay inside, rest, and there's a gun in my room in case of an emergency. Be back by three forty. Storm coming, storm cellar left of the house. Don't eat anything besides the saltines until I get back.
       -Jake
P.S. Bathroom smells bad still, throw up in bucket of you need to.

I sip the water and nibble on a saltine. I'm about to look for my phone when I realize, I don't have it. It's still in the car.
There's a stack of magazines that I quickly shuffle through. Shooting, football, baseball, another shooting, tattoo, and a basketball magazine. Another dusty bookshelf sits in the corner. Does he ever dust bookshelves?
The Complete Sherlock Holmes Volume 1 by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, too heavy at the moment. Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin, still too heavy. Romeo and Juliet, is there anything that's not a heavy read?  Another clap of thunder roars and the wind picks up. The room seems darker now.
I look for a remote for the tv.
The tree branches rub against each other as the sky finally lets it's elephant size tears out. I flip through the channels and settle for the news. The familiar face of Pipa Quaint pops up with the state house behind her slick, dirty blonde, chin length, hair.
"Right behind me is where a state lawyer and a family friend left to go home when two men followed them. One of them crashed head on to the lawyer's car about three blocks away of the state house. The man who deliberately crashed into the two died immediately after the crash. Witnesses report that the lawyer carried the family friend, a young female, to the local hospital for help. There is no further information as Chief Gordon is keeping this tightly confidential." Pipa frowns, but looks happy with her bright red lipstick.
"Hm, is there any information on the two involved in the accident?" William Tyke, the head news anchor, asks.
"It's reported that both are in stable condition and were released from the hospital early this morning."
Chief Gordon is definitely keeping this secret if he's lying to the press, which he rarely does.
"Alright, thank you Pipa. Stay dry as we go to Frank Matthews, our stations meteorologist. Frank, what's the forecast?" William turns to face Frank.
"Well, as you can tell from Pipa, there is a severe thunderstorm in the capital. There are five severe storm warnings in six different county's around the state. I advise you not to drive in this storm-"
The door bursts open and Jake is soaking wet. I take the bags from his hand as he takes his jacket off.
"It's okay. I got it from here." He says as I start to unload the bags.
"No, it's fine." I protest putting the milk on the counter.
"Olivia, go rest." He says, sternly.
"Jake, it's fine."
"Olivia Anne Newman, go rest. Chief Gordon will be here in an hour and I need you to be rested. You are not 'fine'."
I roll my eyes and continue unloading the fabric bags. I am tired, but I don't want him to think I'm weak and unpacking bags is not tiring.
"Where do these cans go?" I ask as if he's not on the verge of yelling at me. He taps his fingers on the counter.
"Olivia, please. Just go rest. You've been asleep most of the day and I don't want you to use all of your energy. Go rest!"
I start towards the counter and stumble.
"See! Go rest!"
The room spins slightly as I walk to the couch.
I lay down on the tan couch, closing my eyes to not see the spinning room, then sleep overcomes, again.
                                   •••
A loud crack of thunder makes me jump. I'm back in the bed I woke up in this morning.
Jake is talking quietly to someone or maybe himself. It could be the chief.  I wonder what time it is.
"... no, I don't think she's fine... yes, I understand... are you sure?... I know it's too dangerous, SM practically has a price on her head now." Jake says, frustrated.
My stomach churns at the name of SM.
"...sir it won't happen again... should I attempt to meet with SM again? I'm sure he knows I'm a fake." I wish I could hear what the person is saying on the other side of the conversation.
"... yes sir, 1900 hours I'll meet up with him, Judas Cafe's alley door like usual." What? The cafe closed a month ago because, ironically, the head manager was caught giving their rival cafe Judas' Espresso recipe for money.
My foot slips off the edge of the bed and hits the wood flooring. I quickly pull the blanket over and close my eyes. The door opens, silence, and then the door closes again.
"I think she's awake, I'll see you at 1700."
The door reopens and Jake walks to my bed.
"I know you're awake, you never sleep with the blanket close to you're chin."
My brown eyes remain closed.
"One hour until the chief comes, you can help me cook."
No budging, I want to know more of the conversation. But the sound of a tree loudly scrapping the window makes me jump.
We awkwardly stare at each other until a thought comes to mind, or more like out of my mouth.
"Could I shower before he comes?"
"Yep, you know where it is. Towels under the the sink."
"Thanks." I throw the blanket off and leave the room. If I 'take' a shower, maybe Jake will call someone else.
I stand in the bathroom with the water running, but Jake doesn't do anything but the dishes.