Written. (JB//Complete)

Chapter 19

      We arrive in his unorderly apartment after yet another horrendous motorcycle ride. Additionally another reason why I'm a tad frightened of him; motorcycles scare me half to death, especially with him steering.

As we step into his living room, it shocks me to not only see how messy it still is from the last time I've seen it, but also that there is broken glass scattered across the ground from what looks like a lamp. I restrain myself from rushing over to it to clean up the mess, knowing now is not the best time to act as a housemaid.

Justin hasn't talked to me at all since we were at the bookstore, and I'm not looking forward to being the one to break the silence. Although, I know one of us will have to do it sooner or later. May as well be the smarter one.

"Why did you want me to come here?"

He situates a few things in his bedroom, incorporating some clothing items and a knocked over nightstand. I wonder what he does that makes everything so mistreated.

"I don't want you going back to your flat alone, and now isn't a good time for you not to be in my sight." He looks up at me from picking up a t-shirt off the ground. "I told you I would keep you safe, remember?"

I nod. "But I wouldn't be alone. My mother is home and-" I stop and think about how my mother could be reacting now that her "little angel" hasn't been home for hours. "Oh no!" I groan, covering my face with my hands in perturbation.

"What?" Justin asks.

"My mother! She's probably going mad right now! I'm going to be in so much trouble, oh my goodness oh my goodness oh my goodness," I pace.

"Calm down. You're old enough to do shit on your own now, she should realize that." He cups my cheeks with both of his large hands, forcing me to look at him. "If anything bad happens, I'll take care of it," he assures, emotionless.

"No, no, no. I need to leave. I can't stay here any longer, I need to leave," I mumble, sliding out of his hold and heading over to exit his bedroom. Although I know how old I am, my mother doesn't seem to get the clue. And when it comes to Mom, everything has to go her way; once she made up her mind, not one miracle or oracle could change it. In this case, when she expects her daughter to be home after school, it will happen, otherwise I'll have to face the consequences.

"No, stop." He grabs my arm, his caramel colored eyes bore into mine. "Stay."

It hurts to reject. He looks so lost, so pained, just like the little child I'd written about not too long ago. Yet, that's that same child standing right in front of me, pleading for my being here. I gaze back into his eyes and give in.

"Okay."

His body visibly relaxes at my words. Sometimes I wonder if he's ever acted like this with anyone else.

It's silent for a few moments until I speak my mind.

"How did you know I was at the bookstore?" I ask.

"I didn't," he plainly answers. "I just saw James's truck in the school lot when I was trying to look for him... I got afraid that he was looking for you and found you. I checked in the school, they wouldn't tell me shit except that you were picked up." He looks up at me with resentful eyes. "That scared the hell out of me." I nod, listening intently. "So I checked downtown, looked everywhere I thought you'd be, because I guess I thought that he could have been looking for you... Then I found you at the bookstore."

"W-why were you looking for him?" I ask, instantaneously regretting the question. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. "And why was he looking for me?"