Isaia opened his mouth speak when the door to the room opened, Dawson James entering. He appeared calm, closing the door behind himself and taking a seat beside his partner

"You okay?" He asked me, his eyes on mine carefully

I nodded and shrugged "Yeah"

I was as well as I could have been despite the situation

"So we have a few options at this point" Isaia continued "We can set you up in a motel, completely pair for, officers posted close by at all times.."

I leaned back in my chair and ran my hands over my face. This was a nightmare, a nightmare I couldn't wake from. How long was this going to go on? Would I ever be able to return home, to my normal life?

My chest was tight, my eyes heavy and my head pounding. I couldn't focus, I was exhausted, physically and mentally.

"If you have anyone, anyone at all that you could stay with, I can give them a call.." Isaia opted "Whatever you, we, decide to do, armed and vigilant officers will be shifting between patrols to ensure you're safe"

"I don't.." I began, shaking my head "Like I said, I don't have anyone, and if I did, I wouldn't want them involved in this mess, I don't want them to be put in the situation I'm in, that isn't fair"

"You need support Jasmine, you can't go through this alone, that isn't fair" Isaia told me, his eyes firmly on mine, sympathetic

I sat quiet with my head in my hands, clueless as to what I could do next. A small part of me wanted to return home, but I knew Isaia was right, it was dangerous for me there now. I also knew that the apartment would be tarnished, no matter how well it had been scrubbed from the carnage, it would be etched in my mind forever.

"Woods" Dawson turned to his partner "Can I have a word?" He stood, moving to the door

Isaia followed, unsure of the topic when the pair stood by the door, quietly speaking with one another as I also stood, moving to the window.

Everything seemed so insignificant at the high, so small and so purposeless. I began chewing my nail, biting down hard until it cracked beneath my teeth, the edge rigid and uneven.

"Jasmine?" I turned to Isaia, he and Dawson standing by the table, looking to me

"We may have found a solution.." He told me, his eyes between me and his partner.

Until the persons responsible for my now apparent bounty were caught, any solution to my problem would be temporary.

I'd been allowed home to collect my necessary belongings while under strict guard by two officers who did not at any point leave me from their sight.

When I did return to my apartment, my bedroom, I just couldn't look at it the same way, I couldn't feel the comfort it had always held for me anymore. I felt unsafe, I felt violated.

It was a difficult emotion to process, the feeling of having nowhere to live within my comfort zone, feeling unsure of every surrounding I would now be around.

I couldn't belch after I'd overeaten, I couldn't cry while watching sappy romance movies, I couldn't walk around the house in an oversized shirt and my underwear when it became too humid. The small comforts of having my own space were gone, I couldn't relax, I couldn't let my guard down and unwind.

Escorted into the dark sedan parked out the front of my apartment building, my suitcase was loaded into the boot of the car. I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans before pulling my hoodie over my head. I leaned back and took what felt like the last look of home.

The two officers that had watched me like a hawk pack up my belongings stood on the sidewalk, talking with detective James, who shook hands with the man and woman in deep blue uniform.

My muscles tensed and my fingers fidgeted as Dawson made his way around the car, entering the drivers side, ready for our move.

"They're going to follow us out of town, just to make sure we aren't followed" He told me, starting the car "After that the roads become pretty secluded, it won't be hard for me to keep a look out for anything out of the ordinary"

I nodded "Okay"

This was what witness protection looked like, constant paranoia.

Beginning the drive, I kept my head back and my eyes on the city as we passed through. I could see the marked police car follow closely behind us, dropping off when we reached the exit signs of home twenty minutes later.

My body begged me to sleep, but I couldn't, I was uncomfortable, cramped in the small space of the car with someone I barely knew a thing about. I felt suffocated, like the air continued to tighten around my face.

Half an hour into the drive, the tension began to boil, and I had assumed that Dawson had felt it too when he spoke

"This can't be easy for you, but we're doing everything we can to make it easier, and if there's anything else we can do to help you along the way, just let me know" He kept his gaze forward on the wide road, thickness of pine trees on either side of the winding highway

"Thank you" I briefly looked in his direction, genuinely appreciative "This must be hard for you, having to seclude yourself from everything until this blows over.."

He shrugged "I haven't taken leave in a while anyways, and I haven't been down here since then"

"I can't imagine this is how you ever imagined yourself coming back though" I scoffed, his lips slightly upturning

"Definitely not" He glanced to me, his shoulders relaxed as he now drive with one arm propped on the windowsill

"Well, hopefully it doesn't take long for Detective Wood to catch these people and it'll all go back to normal" I thought aloud, wishfully thinking

His eyes connected with mine, one side of his lips lifting, as though it was false. Had I been hoping for too much already? What did he know that I didn't?

The next forty minutes of the drive weren't as horrid as I had been expecting. Dawson had turned the radio on, low music keeping the air busy. He had also turned the air conditioning on, slight flow of cold outside air moving in through the vents allowing me to breathe more freely.

I had focused on the roads, the signs, and when we entered the small town 'Hartley' I knew we had reached our destination successfully. Following the main street, which consisted of a fuel station, a grocery store, a post office and a cafe, we made three upward turns to a dirt road pulling down the mountain.

It was overcast, clouds hanging menacingly above the roller coaster of pine trees. Between the thick shrubbery, the thin road lead to a large open block.

I found myself leaning forward as we became closer. A two story holiday house just as Dawson had described sat nestled between pine trees and a large lake of still water.

I could see a dock, I could see an open veranda wrapped around the dark wooden structure built purposely for vacations and special occasions. It was bigger than I had been expecting, it was breathtaking. This would be my temporary safe house until Tony and I's attackers were caught.

"Wow" I took the scenery in as the car pulled up to the home, the engine dying down. I waited until Dawson exited before I did, stepping out into the crisp cold air, slight wind brushing against my face.

The silence was pure, raw and rare. There were no bustling crowds, no roar of cars, just the sound of birds, trees, nature at its best form.

The seclusion was different for me. I had been raised in the city, I had always enjoyed the city, but the last few days had begun to challenge my usual way of thinking. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Dawson pulled mine and his own suitcase from the car and began dragging them toward the house, a rock path leading to the wooden stairs. I followed slowly, taking every inch in, the stairs creaking beneath our weight. I could smell sandalwood and pine instantly, lavender and the scent of rain that had not long ago fallen against the earth. I soaked it in.

Pulling a set of keys from his pants pocket, he lead us around the porch, passing a large wooden door I assumed would have been the main entrance. We turned a corner and I noticed that the porch opened out into a deck. We were at the back of the home, the back door modernised beside wall height windows, blocked to the inside by blinds closed down. It was an entertainers dream, a wicker set sitting on the porch, a fire pit beside it and a large rock path leading from the edge of the large decking to the dock which traced into the lake.

I had not at all been expecting what was in front of me when Isaia and Dawson had suggested the idea. I had expected a shack in the middle of the woods, no electricity, no running water, an old spring mattress on the floor with itchy blankets to match.

"My parents put a lot of time and effort into it, we came here a lot as kids" Dawson revealed as he swung the door open, placing our suitcases by the entrance

"I can see why, it's amazing" I told him, taking it in as Dawson began to wind the curtains up, allowing in ample soft light to the open space inside

The kitchen and dining sat neatly to my left, long granite grey benches and light wooden cupboards overlooking the living room to my right. A long sandy tan couch with matching recliners sat neatly in place, curved around a mounted television. A shaggy brown rug tucked neatly between, a wooden coffee table on top, decorated with fake greenery and a grey table runner.

"This is a far cry to what I imagine my hotel to have looked like" I sighed, standing immobile, paralysed by the beauty of it, by the amount of money it would have cost just to decorate. I hadn't been raised poor, I'd been fortunate enough to have been raised with luxuries some couldn't even have afforded in their lifetime, but this was next level.

"It isn't somewhere I would expect anyone to find you, so that's good enough for me" Dawson answered, pulling open the windows, which were apparently now doors too, air moving through from the deck to the living room. He then picked our suitcases back up, pulling them down the wide hall, lifting them effortlessly in both hands up the spiral wood stairs.

I remained in awe as Dawson directed me to my bedroom, simple yet beautiful. Continuing on, he gave me a brief tour of the home, two bathrooms with bathtubs as big as my bathroom itself, 3 bedrooms upstairs, 2 bedrooms downstairs, 1 living space upstairs, laundry downstairs, complete with a washer and dryer.

I had been originally worried about being uncomfortable within a new environment, and now added paranoia set in about my living there putting anything out of place or messing something up.

"Make yourself at home" Dawson told me, his hands on his hips as we stood in the living room "I'll head into town soon to pick some groceries up, stock the kitchen, apart from that everything you'll need should be here, feel free to help yourself"

I nodded, knowing well enough I would be too afraid to touch anything that didn't belong to me.

"There is an alarm system, there are also cameras, I'll make sure they're running for extra precaution, especially when you're here and I'm not"

This surprised me "You'll not be watching me like the officers back home planned to?"

"There are going to be moments I'll have to head out, but I'll never be too far away, we're far from home, we weren't followed.. I think you're more safe here than anywhere else"

It was a relief, if he was confident, then so was I. I was also completely relieved I wouldn't be watched so closely, I needed my space, I needed my privacy as well as anyone else did.