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Jessa

I have never been so afraid in my life.

When that disgrace of a man had his dirt crusted hands on me I thought for sure that was it, especially seeing that J might have been knocked out cold.

My heart was beating so hard and fast that I swore I could have died right there, and when his hands squeezed my butt and began to tug at my pants I knew what was about to happen. And honestly, I would rather have welcomed death with open arms than let him have his way with me.

The fear was the worst of it all. It was like a flame being ignited deep in the pit of my stomach. It was like it ran through each individual vein and nerve in my body, burning everything in sight until something could stop it. Or until J smashed a brick into the mans face, which stopped at least one fear.

I shook my head at the constant images of blood spurting at J's face with each drop of the brick. It was only about ten minutes after it happened, but I couldn't shake the haunting memory that seemed to be following me.

J washed the blood off of his face with water from a bucket that he kept behind a bush. The blood was cleaned from his skin, but his shirt was still soaked in it.

"I can't walk around in this." He whispered in a shaky tone, coughing afterward in attempt to conceal his noticeable fear.

I turned my head to the left and then to the right. There was no one in sight because of the rain that still had yet to cease. I jumped slightly as a bolt of lighting erupted in the dark and cloudy sky, confirming that it wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"I think you should take it off." I replied, completely serious. He couldn't just walk around in a bloody shirt. Besides, I've seen guys around here walk around shirtless all the time when volunteering. Usually it wasn't pouring down rain, but I couldn't think of any other option.

He nodded in reply, realizing it was his only choice.

When he pulled the soaked shirt above his head, I instantly choked on my breath. He had bruises all down his ribs and countless cuts sprawling across his chest. He was skinny, so skinny that you could tell he hasn't eaten a good meal in who knows how long.

I bit my lip to keep from crying. It was the saddest thing I had ever seen, and he was only two years older than me. In another life, I surely could have been in his place.

"Remember what I said about pity?" He spat, crossing his arms to try and conceal himself as much as he could.

I blinked away the tears and grabbed the now rain soaked shirt from his hands.

"Follow me," I croaked, swallowing my fear before turning on my heels to make way across the street to what looked like a restaurant of some sort. It looked rundown, almost abandoned. I tossed the shirt into the trash can that stood in front of the barred doors. J was close behind me, arms still crossed and body visibly shivering.

"Let's get to my car." I told him before putting a hand on his bare back. He flinched in response and walked past me, leaving my hand to fall back to my side.

"We should hurry." J advised, walking faster even though he had no clue where he was going.

"It's right there," I spoke up in relief when I saw my car in the same place I left it. I dug in my purse to retrieve my keys before unlocking it with one click.

We both hopped in at the same time, and I quickly yanked up the heat as soon as the car started before pointing all of the vents towards J's cold and shivering body. He was silent which led me to believe he was afraid. Who wouldn't be after something like this?

He looked like the type of guy to never be afraid, though. His face seemed to always be as hard as stone and still; emotionless. There was only one way to describe this man, and it was dead. He looked absolutely dead inside, perhaps that's how he felt too.

The entire drive to my home felt like it went in slow motion. The realization of what occurred under that bridge was hitting us like a ton of bricks. Maybe not the best example..but you get it.

"My parents are gone all day," I assured J as we pulled up into the driveway of my house. He looked at the house like it was the biggest thing he'd ever seen, making me feel very small but also very appreciative of what I had.

"We'll figure out what to do inside after I find you clothes." I said to him assuringly as I put my car in park.

What the hell was I doing? What would I do when my mom got home?
I ignored my conscience that seemed to be banging on my head to try and get me to stop what I was doing. I ignored it.

J nodded and stepped out of the car, looking up at my house in awe before making way to my front door that I unlocked as fast as I could to avoid having any neighbors see the shirtless stranger that I was inviting into my home.

My mother would have a heart attack.

J stood still, refusing completely to step into the house.

"Come on." I attempted to grab his hand but he pulled it away before our fingertips could touch.

"I shouldn't be here." He whispered, closing his eyes and placing his hands on his head. "I'm gonna get caught and you're going to go down with me if you do this." His bottom lip began to quiver as he spoke, and I knew then that the man that hid under an angry mask was gone. At least for now.

"J," I started, watching as his eyes met mine. "I already did this, I drove you here. I'm doing this." A few moments of silence passed before I grabbed his hand again, this time gripping harder. To my surprise he didn't pull away, but instead gripped it back before stepping into the doorway.

"And you're not gonna get caught."

I closed the door behind him and locked both locks, now completely alone with the man who just earlier murdered another person, but also the man who saved my life.

I walked to my parents room and gave him one of my fathers plain white tees. He wasted no time to put it on, clearly wanting to cover up as fast as he could.

It hurt to see, because I was the exact same way.

He looked at my parents bed just then, envy clear in his dark mysterious eyes. It was obvious that he wanted nothing more than to dive right into it and sleep for days to make up for all of his cold, sleepless nights under that bridge.

We then went upstairs to my bedroom. I was undeniably paranoid that someone was going to walk through the front door even though it was locked. I haven't done anything bad before, hell, today was my first time actually skipping school.

And now? Now I am a witness for murder.

"What do you expect to do when your parents come home?" J asked, looking around my cluttered bedroom. My school books were sprawled across my desk and my dirty clothes hamper was overflowing, it was a mess. Obviously though, that was the last thing being thought about.

He picked at his knuckles that were heavily bruised and crusted with his own dry blood. He was visibly nervous to be in my house, which had me wondering when the last time he's been inside one was, for all he knew and had to call his own was cold concrete.

"You need a shower." I said after finally tearing my gaze away from the veins on his arms. 

His head sprung up as I said it, nodding without another word.

I turned on my heels to my bathroom that was directly across from my bedroom. I grabbed a fresh towel from the cabinet and placed it on the sink before turning the shower knobs until the water pouring down was warm.

"Just turn it left if you want it hotter and right if you want it colder." I instructed, my voice still shaky. He simply nodded and waited until I was behind the door to take his shirt off.

I waited in my room as he bathed. I wanted to cry and scream into my pillow about how much of an idiot I was for doing this, but at the same time I wanted to be happy for the man I took in that's probably taking his first shower in years that wasn't rain. I wanted to be happy for taking him away from that horrible area where he was beat all of the time, I wanted to be happy, but at the end of the day he killed a man and my parents would be home later.

Anxiety pricked at my insides like millions of small needles dipped in poison, poison that made me want to fall over and disappear until all of the problems occurring today were erased so I wouldn't have to deal with them.

Too bad life doesn't work like that.

J

When the warm water hit my skin I literally moaned. I was so used to the cold that I forgot what it felt like to be warm, to be clean.

I turned the knob left to make it hotter, so hot that it was almost scalding and the room was full of steam. I put a hand on the wall in front of me, letting the water pour over my hair and down my neck.

The water going down the drain had a mix of dirt and blood in it, making me cringe. I quickly scrubbed the dry blood off of my body, it seemed to be everywhere.

I looked around to the sides of the tub where all sorts of soaps sat. I grabbed one labeled shampoo and squirted it onto my head, scrubbing hard into my scalp that welcomed the soap happily. It smelled like lavender, which was a great comparison to what I used to smell like, I guess.

God, I didn't want to get out.
What if this was the last shower before prison? Or before I was back on the streets? I turned the knob more, making it even hotter. I squeezed my eyes shut, welcoming the pain with open arms, for I could finally feel.

When I was finally numb and the water began to run cold, I turned it off and stepped out into the steamy bathroom before grabbing the towel lying on the sink.

I looked up at the mirror in front of me, it was fogged up. I wanted to look at myself, I really did. I wanted to see if I could even recognize myself from the face I remembered seeing long ago, but I couldn't.

I dried my hair off as best I could with the towel as well as my body before wrapping it around my waist and stepping out of the bathroom.

I itched to have clothes to cover the scars on my chest and bruises on my ribs.

As I walked into Jessa's bedroom I saw her sitting on her bed with her face in her hands. She was upset, as anyone would expect her to be after what happened.

I'm a dick, I'll admit it. I'm heartless and cold as fuck, but I felt genuinely bad for her. I was thankful for what she's done for me, because if she were anyone else she'd take off running after the first drop of the brick. Hell, if she were anyone else she wouldn't have been there in the first place, but she was there and she did stay even though it was a stupid fucking choice on her part. For now, she really is apart of this.

Jessa looked up fast as soon as she heard my footsteps. She sucked in a harsh breath before trying to conceal it with a small cough after seeing me.

I held back a smile.

"Here." She squeaked, handing me one of her dads folded white tee shirts, a pair of boxers and lastly what looked like basketball shorts.

"Don't worry it's all clean, sorry if that's weird." She laughed quietly as I grabbed the clothing that she was handing me.

"Your dads underwear? Not weird at all." I joked, trying to be nicer to her than I previously was when we met.

She laughed for a second, but it died immediately after the realization of what happened today hit her.

I stood there for a bit, going over her facial features. She was gorgeous, obviously. I knew that the second I laid my eyes on her. She had caramel eyes that matched the color of her skin, and lips that were pink and full.

She shyly looked away after realizing that I was staring.

"I'll leave you to change, I'll be right back." She forced a smile and left the room, leaving me alone to finally cover my bruised mess of a body.

The clothes were soft and smelled like laundry detergent. It was odd to be clean and not crusted with dirt and blood from fights all of the time. Just that alone was indescribable, and there was no question that I wanted this life. Not to be rich or anything, but to have clean clothes and a damn shower.

After putting the clothes on I sat in her huge ass bed with the silk sheets, and after just a few seconds of finally being comfortable, I let myself fall asleep just as I heard Jessa's footsteps coming up the stairs.

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