15 The date

15.

I flinched from my seated position on my bed when the door opened. Dad stood by the door, eyes hard and lips pressed into a line. I sighed and pushed the book I was trying to read aside. Anyway, I've read the same line three times in a row. And I had no idea what the story was about. My mind was far away, peering at the nervousness of my Jacob. His emotions resonated with mine. I had no idea why he was so on edge. I could only imagine and my mind was a cruel sadist.

"We have to talk," Dad simply added. My mind flashed thousand of different horrible scenarios before he opened his mouth to speak again. "Your mother and I have decided that—" he trailed off as he stepped inside the room. Dad was a master of drama when it came to the art of language. Living too long did that to you and right now the suspense was building up to my dismay. I followed him with my gaze as he pulled a chair on which a big stuffed teddy bear sat, I got it for my last birthday. It was a gift from Grandma, Esme. That Esme part of my name came from her. I guess she has no idea that I look like a teenager and still treats me like a baby. I turned back to Dad as he slowly sat down next to my bed. Vampires look unnatural when they move slowly. The thin lines around his eyes gave away his tension within. Good, at least I was happy about that part.

"Renesme," he straightened up. I braced for the rest. "As your father, there are things I must do to protect you," I opened my mouth to protest but he raise one finger to silence me. "Just hear me through before you yell back. Werewolves are dangerous. I know that in the past we allowed Jacob to escape with you—" he took a deep breath before he went on. He clearly wasn't proud of his past mistakes. "—but that was a case of emergency," he held my gaze. His eyes block black. Daddy was hungry. He needed to feed—very soon.

"Dad, Jacob would never hurt me," I stepped in.

"You're still mortal and even if you have the strength and the speed of a vampire—and god knows what else," he got an emotional relapse from his rigid sitting position, twitching in an almost human way. He stared with soft eyes and reached for my hand resting on the bed cover. "You are my treasure— you and your mother. I only want what's good for you. I'll give my life if I have to—" There was so much pain in his constricted voice.

"Oh Dad, get a grip on the melodrama. No one is asking you to die, for god sake." He pulled his hand away from mine and his face turned hard, closed, jaw tensed. He was back into his statue-like stillness.

"Your mother and I agreed to let you see Jacob once a week on Fridays—" I gasped, my face brightened up. A smile danced on my lips. My Jacob, I was finally going to see him again. He frowned at my reaction. "—under my supervision," he added like a stake through my heart.

"What is this?" I struggled to get up, my feet tangled in the covers. "What era do you think we are living in?" he got to his feet, slowly. "This is freaking 2020...are you kidding me?" I raged. In seconds, he got near the door and opened it.

"Friday at 7, after dinner," he said before exiting.