Odd One Out | Jacob Black

12.

After what only felt like seconds, we were pulling up to the house I was becoming familiar with. "Stay, I'll help you out." And true to his word, he helped me climb out of the car before guiding me inside.

"Well?"

I couldn't help but let out a gasp and flinch back as someone charged towards us quickly.

"Paul." Jake stepped in front of me entirely "Back off."

"Jake." Someone said quieter. "Paul, give them some space." He said even though Paul was already moving across the room.

"If you don't live here, then get the fuck out." I stared at his back and watched in fascination as it almost rippled with vibrations.

"What the fuck, man?" Someone said from the kitchen table. "Did you get the leech or not?"

"Obviously not or he wouldn't be so fucking pissy." Paul said from across the room.

A large vibration shook through Jake before he took a deep breath. He turned and reached back to grab my good arm gently. "Come on, we need to clean your hands." He said quietly.

"I think it's best you two wait outside." I realize it's his dad talking from his spot in the living room.

"This is what happens when you leave shit to a bunch of inexperienced little shits. Where the fuck was Leah, huh?"

I wanted to shrink into Jake. I didn't want to be here. I wanted to lay in bed and wake up from this hell of a nightmare.

"Paul!" I nearly jumped out of my skin when his dad raised his voice.

Oh god, dad. He was going to be so mad when he saw the door. And how was I supposed to explain it to him? I don't even know what happened. Would he even believe me? Probably not.

"Oh shit." I heard someone mumble through the haze of my thoughts.

"Hey! Hey! Natasha. I need you to take a deep breath." Jake was suddenly in my line of vision. "Come on, deep breath in."

Was I not breathing anymore? Maybe if I stopped breathing then I'd just die and then dad can't get mad at me about the door.

Who am I kidding? He'd probably still be pissed even if I was dead. He'd get mad at me for dying instead of dealing with it.

"Baby, I need you to breath. Big breath in, big breath out." I followed his breathing. When I could finally take a semblance of a normal breath I looked at him.

"He's going to be so mad." I whisper.

"Who's mad?" Jake asks quietly.

"Dad. He's going to be so mad about the door and he's going to think I just ran away and he's already mad at me about school and he said he'll take everything and—"

"Deep breaths. He's not going to be mad at you, I promise. You need to keep taking deep breaths. There you go. Good girl."

After I no longer felt like I was going into cardiac arrest, he gently grabbed my good elbow and led me to a bathroom. He pushed the toilet seat down and sat me down on top. "We are going to get all the glass out of your hands, okay?"

He reached under the cabinet for something before opening a drawer or two. "Okay, I need you to put one hand over the sink here. This'll probably sting. I'm sorry, baby."

He held some tweezers and had to be what looked like some rubbing alcohol.

I flinched after the first piece came out but otherwise zoned out after.

How was I supposed to explain the door to dad? I tried to think of a logical explanation but was blanking. I don't even know what broke it to begin with. I remember the red eyes in front of me. Was it that?