01 : Things Have Changed

                                    

                                          
Your POV
                          
Three months ago, I lost my child.
                          
Tragically. 
                          
After what was meant to be a peaceful evening drive with my boyfriend on my nineteenth birthday, conflict caused me to lose one of life's most beautiful gifts.
                          
Except my daughter, Samantha, wasn't just a gift. She was a healer, and she fixed the one thing that meant the most to me. The one thing that I was so petrified of losing...
                          
The love between me and America's most dreaded individual; 
Jason McCann.
                          
That may sound crazy, but he got me.
He understood me.
And without him, it was like walking around with half a body. 
Half a heart. 
Half a soul. 
                          
Samantha brought us back together after our love began to crumble, and things were finally falling into place. Until suddenly, all the delicate pieces began to fall apart instead of together, and she was gone; along with a piece of me, and a piece of Jason as well. 
                          
I thought about that a lot. 
I shouldn't have, but I did.
                          
The sound of shattering glass rang in my ears, gravelly yells echoed from downstairs and carried through the air up to mine and Jason's bedroom, and my eyes shot wide open, forcing me out of my beloved slumber. 
Jason's body was pressed firmly against mine, with his arm draped across my waist and his leg swung over mine. The lack of distance between us gave me the advantage of feeling his muscles tighten, and I knew that he had been awoken by the mysterious noise as well. 
                          
"Jason," I whispered instantly, keeping my back touching the tattooed skin on his chest and feeling my heart rate begin to increase. "What was that?" 
                          
In reaction to the unmistakable concern in my voice, he slid his hand to my stomach and tightened his grip around me. He was somehow gentle with his movements, but still made me feel protected. 
Without replying, he dug his face into the back of my shoulder tiredly, and he listened, obviously trying to work out what was going on downstairs incase it was nothing worth investigating.
When another distressing sound of destruction bounced from the walls, Jason suddenly let me go and shot up in bed. 
His messy hair flopped over his forehead, and he ran his hand through it to move it away from his eyes. At the sight of them, I didn't miss the confusion that glistened in the darkness of the room. 
"Wait here." He instructed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, but before he could stand up, I rolled over in the sheets and grabbed his hand. 
                          
"Can I come with you?" I mumbled, propping myself up against the headboard.
At this moment, fear was an emotion that was purely absent and the alternative was concern and confusion. Secretly wanting to accompany Jason in situations that could possibly be harmful or life-threatening was beginning to turn into an occasional thing, but he was never too keep on my enthusiasm to stand by his side when it came down to it. He wanted to keep me safe; and I understood that. 
                          
"No, Y/n." He picked his black t-shirt up from the floor and pulled it on, covering his perfectly defined muscles that were enough to make me feel weak whenever I saw them. 
He finished concealing himself by pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants over his boxers, whilst the noise from downstairs intensified. 
"You don't know who could be down there, leave this to me." He stalked back over to the bed and softly kissed my forehead reassuringly. "I'll be right back." 
                          
I nodded. "Okay." 
                          
But he noticed the undeniable look in my eyes, and he sighed, shaking his head and predicting my near-future decisions.
This type of thing had happened three times in the past four weeks; break-ins from opposing gangs who Jason either shared conflict with or owed some sort of money. Ever since Samantha had died, he had become more focussed and committed to his general life of crime, which had unsurprisingly caused us occasional dramas and situations like the one happening right now. 
Every time Jason had told me to wait upstairs, or hide somewhere safe, I disobeyed him and ended up involved. Not once had I come close to getting hurt, but Jason was petrified that it would happen sooner or later. 
My intentions weren't to get in the way of things, I just wanted to be there for him. 
I couldn't stand the thought of something happening to him that I could've possibly prevented. I wasn't experienced with a gun, but I had saved Jason's life with one before, and I was willing to do it again if I needed to.