One week.
It's been a week since I last saw Rafe and I missed him already. I kept in contact with Jake and from what he has told me, Rafe wasn't doing that well. Having fits of anger, destroying his office, he was in bad shape. My phone rang and I saw Jake's number on the screen.
"Jake," I answered nervously.
"You need to come home," he whispered.
"It's bad," he continued.
"How bad?" I asked.
"On a scale of 1 to 10? A f*****g hundred," I cringed.
"That bad?"
"Yes,"
I sighed, running a hand down my face.
"Come pick me up," I muttered.
"I'll be there soon," he said and we both hung up.
"What are you doing Rafe?" I muttered to myself.
I began packing my things and rolled the suitcases to the door. There was a knock on my door and I opened it, seeing Jake.
"Let's go," he mumbled
