"Had they stopped when you were taking the medication?" Dawson asked as his thumbs circled against my neck on either side

Again I nodded

"Do you.. can you tell me what happened?.." He stumbled, fishing for details

My hands moved from my lap to my face, rubbing at the moisture on my cheeks, forcing away the threatening others balancing on my eyelids

I silently cleared my throat, my head remaining low as I shook my head

"Do they hurt you?" He tried a different technique

"No" I mumbled as I pulled back slightly, distancing myself from him before looking up

He appeared confused, his eyes searching my face "No?"

"They.." I began, my emotions unbalanced and unpredictable "They hurt Isaia and.." I paused, his body beside me on the lounge shifting, his hand raising my head to his level

"And?.."

I averted my eyes to anything but his face in front of mine "You"

It was quiet, dangerously quiet when he lifted his thumb over the bottom of my jawline "Me?"

"You keep getting shot, and there's nothing I can do to stop it, I try, I try to stop it, but I can't.." I babbled

Suddenly he moved closer, his hand moving to the back of my neck, our foreheads lightly touching, my injury insignificant to the moment

"We're going to be fine" It was a whisper, barely audible as he spoke

I nodded, unsure if I truly believed it.

Our foreheads touching, breathing shallow, the moment became dangerously close to crossing our boundaries. I wanted to lean in, and I could see that he did too, but we couldn't, not again. I couldn't give in, it would change everything. I couldn't damage the one good thing I had going for me, so despite every inch of me wanting to be the first to react, I pulled back, removing myself from him, my eyes dropping to my hands in my lap.

I shook my head, irritated

Dawson heavily sighed, seemingly as bothered as I was, knowing it would not be a good idea. He hesitated where he sat in front of me, and then he stood, moving back to the other side of the living room, reclaiming his spot on the couch.

I began biting my nails, chewing them to distract myself from the tension burning between us. All I could think about was his body beside mine, his lips on mine, him being mine. I hadn't realised just how deeply I craved him, it was like I had suddenly become ravenous for human intimacy that my body screamed for it.

I was being an idiot, I was doing it out of boredom. How else could it have been explained? I hadn't felt this way with Oliver, it was different with him. I knew that I could have had Oliver, I knew that it would have been great, but the emotions that went along with it, were so opposite that I couldn't understand.

•

I wasn't sure what was worse, the nightmares that had occasionally tormented me, or the two weeks that dragged me by my feet through time in slow motion. I had barely left the house, the only moments of fresh air I'd had from the deck or the pier on the lake. I was going crazy, I was losing track of time, every day moulding into the last or the next.

Dawson and I hadn't spoken more than a few sentences to one another, the magnetic force that had dared me to him the night I'd left hospital hadn't left, in fact, it was getting heavier. I couldn't be near him for longer than five minutes, just the smell of his cologne was enough to make me want to dive into him.

Some days I would wake up and be one hundred percent determined to go back to the way we once were, but it never worked, my nervousness would betray me, my muscles tensing, my heart racing dramatically inside my chest.

Unfortunately, my case had only slightly progressed. Trey and Wyatt had attended their arraignment and not surprisingly, they'd come up with the hefty bond amount needed to wait out at home until the trial was to begin. 60 days, we had up to 60 days to wait for the trial.

As the days leading up continued, I became more irritable. I felt myself being less comfortable, more snappy, I was sinking into a depression. I couldn't decide if I was happy or sad, I couldn't decide if I was lucky to be alive or not, all I knew was that I was angry, angry because I had spent 14 in isolation with a man I knew I couldn't have.

"Jasmine" My eyes opened to see Dawson entering the deck where I sat, my head leaned back, skin absorbing the warming sunlight

"I need to talk to you about something" He sat on the table edge in front of me, his expression unreadable

Worried, interested, I sat up straight, watching him carefully "Okay.."

"You're friend, Camille?" He began, my heart skipping a beat, panicked something had happened to her "She filed a missing persons report for you.."

I felt relief and then confusion "She did?"

I hadn't seen Camille in weeks, which was unusual. We'd normally kept our distance, but for almost a month and a half we'd had zero contact and that was not normal. She'd have tried calling me, visiting me, and when she couldn't find the answers to my disappearance, she'd obviously contacted police, concerned for my welfare. I hadn't told her the truth, she didn't know about my situation. She must have been so confused, so worried.

"Isaia informed me, he wanted to give you the opportunity to talk to her, explain what happened, he wants you to have the choice of how we handle her search for you.."

"How much am I allowed to tell her?" If I could tell her the truth, I would, I needed a friend, I needed someone other than Dawson to talk to

"Everything except for where you are"

"And if I do tell her, would that put her in danger?" It was my biggest concern, from the beginning

He shrugged "It could, from what we understand it isn't likely, but with these men anything is possible.."

This was a choice I could not take lightly. If I told Camille the truth and somehow my enemies found out that her and I were friends, they could track her down, torture information from her. I was thinking irrationally, but there was always a worse case scenario, and this was it.

"What if I chose not to talk to her, to keep her in the dark and she keeps asking, searching?"

"Isaia will hold her off for as long as he can, but if she starts making waves, talking locally or involving the media, she could be putting herself in danger without even knowing it"

Sucking in my bottom lip, I began to chew it, either way, Camille was going to potentially be in trouble because of me. I didn't know how far she could go, would she start pinning posters up, would she contact the news to complain the police weren't doing enough to find me? I had no idea, and was it worth the risk?

"Ultimately it's your call.." He pulled his phone from him back pocket, holding it between his hands

Camille couldn't be blindsided, she deserved to know if she was in danger. I hoped that knowing the truth would give her the opportunity to lay low. She and I were friends, but the reality was we weren't that close, I hope that it was a good thing, that it would work in her favour.

Holding my hand out, Dawson looked to the phone and pressed the screen a few times before handing it over

"Remember, under no circumstance do you tell her where we are" He firmly held eye contact, ensuring I understood

I nodded, grasping the gravity of the situation entirely.

When Dawson had exited the deck, returning to the house, I looked down at the phone, Camilles number in front of me.

Taking a handful of deep breaths, calming myself, I dialled the number and pressed it to my ear

With each ring, my heart thumped, and then she answered

"Hello?"

"Camille, it's me" I responded, shaky

"Jasmine?! Jasmine is that you?! Are you okay?!" She was frantic, it caught me off guard

"I'm fine Camille, hey, slow down, I'll explain everything.." I tried to ease her ramblings

"Where are you? I want to see you, I need to see that you're okay, I can leave work now.." She continued

"Camille, listen to me okay, take a break and take some deep breaths.." I urged her casually, listening to her rough breathing "Find somewhere to sit and I'll tell you everything.."

She was fumbling with the phone and I could hear her distantly tell her dad that she was taking a break. A few seconds later, the background noise faded into silence

"Okay, talk.." She demanded

"Firstly, I'm alright, I'm safe.." I sighed "But there are some things that I haven't told you, and they're going to surprise you.."

I started from the beginning, going as slow as I could so I could acknowledge her many emotions, her many questions. At first she didn't believe me, she laughed and told me that it wasn't funny - ironically, but with more detail, she had no choice but to believe me.

Even though I had been reliving the nightmare as I went over every detail to convince her, to explain my absence, it felt nice to have had her to talk to. I had missed her without even knowing it.

Questions flowed from her, and when she tried multiple times for an answer to where I was hiding out, I'd held my ground in maintaining my secrecy.

By the end of my lengthy account, she had relaxed. She was undeniably in shock, but she had the answers she had been searching for. When reality sunk in for her, the more common quiz came. What was the detective like babysitting me, how was I keeping myself busy, how was I doing mentally being away from my normal world? And then the query of my attackers came, she wanted to know their every charge, their zodiac signs, their eye colour, their every feature.

I found myself stumbling to answer the questions that should have been easiest, it was hard to talk about, it was hard to recount their faces, not because I didn't remember, but because I didn't want to remember them.

Eventually the discussion turned into one of a normal phone call. We spoke about the restaurant, her work, Bane, usual topics we would converse about over drinks at the bar.

It had easily been 2 hours of chatter when Dawson emerged from the house again, looking at me before sitting opposite me with his laptop set on his thighs. He was being subtle, but it wasn't fooling anyone, he was concerned about what I was saying, what I was disclosing.

"Am I able to call and talk to you whenever I want?" Camille asked as I folded my legs beneath me

"I'm not sure yet, I'll have to ask about it, but I can only assume it'll be restricted, if Trey and Wyatt find out that you're in contact with me.."

"How will they find that out?.." She scoffed, not at all concerned for the dangerous information she was now exposed to

"They are cunning Camille, we just need to be careful, I can't bare to think of anything that could happen to you because of me.." I shook my head, forcing myself not to think of it literally

"Well have a talk with the detective and if you ever need to call, you call, I don't care what time it is, you call me Jasmine okay? You make sure you keep me updated, okay?"

I appreciated Camille, more than she knew

"Okay, okay, I will" I agreed as we said our goodbyes.