I Am Trouble

45~ Hold

"Listen, I'll sit right here the whole time. Won't even make a sound." Jamie assured me.

"You really don't have to." I repeated for like the fourth time.

"I'll just sit here and hold your hand." He stated, taking my hand in his grasp.

"Jamie," I started,

"You really don't have to. Just go home, your family misses you."

"They don't give a donkey's ass where I am. I'm going to sit right here, and hold your hand." He replied.

I sighed and gave his hand a light squeeze,

"Okay."

I took hold of my phone, and opened it to its 'not off the grid' self. We had to practically remove ourselves from any connection to the outside world-so then we could not be tracked down. It didn't take too much work for us all to pretty much deactivate our phones. It was harder to activate them again, though.

Yesterday when Jamie came over, we activated our phones. Several texts and missed calls came in right away. But they were simply deleted.

I opened to Dylan's contact,

"They could be sleeping. I don't wanna wake any-,"

"Blair. You're stalling. Just call." Jamie interrupted me.

I sighed and looked him dead in the eye,

"They hate me at this point."

"Family is forever." He told me, then quickly lifting his arm and bringing it closer to my phone. He tapped the call button.

"Jamie!" I exclaimed.

"There you go. Wasn't so hard?" He said, a grin on his face.

I glared at him as I lifted the phone to my ear,

"Stay quiet."

He gave my hand a squeeze, it was reassuring, as the ringing from my phone stopped. And my little brother's voice answered,

"Hello?"

He answered as if he didn't knew who I was. Maybe there was no caller ID for my number as of right now?

"Dyl, it's Blair." I said.

"Oh my god, Blair! Are you okay? Where are you?" His voice chirped.

"One question at a time, man." I stated, relaxing a bit.

"Are you okay?" He repeated.

"I'm fine, how are you guys?" I answered.

"Worried to shit. Where are you?" He stated.

"I'm at home." I replied.

I mean... I guess I'm okay. There's still a few cuts and bruises healing up. And, can't forget the lovely bullet wound in my abdomen that's still being held together by stitches.

The cuts on my face actually didn't leave much of anything behind. No scars or marks. The only things left on my face is a bruised cheek with a light scrape and a cut lip.

"You got my note?" He asks.

"Yeah. Where are you guys?" I asked him.

"Uncle Darren's place. It's a hell house, though. Everyone has been staying here the past few weeks you were gone." He explained.

"Why?" I wondered aloud.

"Safety or somethin'." He started,

"Where did you go?"