It was one thing to BELIEVE that you were a monster, but it was another thing entirely to LIVE the truth, and that belief had turned into a reality for the oldest Hart male. With his hands covered in blood and NOWHERE TO GO, Jesse found himself breaking in through the back door of Sierra’s home. Once inside, he sat down in one of the chairs at her kitchen table and put his head in his hands. He figured that the mermaid would still be asleep, so he remained where he was as he tried to COME TO TERMS with what he had just done. His knee bounced wildly and his knuckles were chalk white from the strain of his fists. God, he felt sick.
Being the actual grandma that she was, Sierra was fast asleep before 10 pm that night. She didn’t even have work in the morning, but she kept a pretty tight sleeping schedule. Since she was a pretty light sleeper, she usually made sure to turn off her phone for the night—mostly out of worry that Jesse might decide to call her in the middle of the night again. What actually woke her up that night was much worse. It took her a few minutes to realize the noise she was hearing was seemingly coming from the kitchen, where the backdoor was, and sounded a lot like someone trying to pick the lock. Her first thought was to call Jesse’s cellphone, but she was sent to voicemail after a few rings. “Jesse,” she whispered, her eyes on her open bedroom door. “There’s someone in my house. Get over here before I get murdered.” The mermaid stayed in her bed for a few minutes after, trying to pick up on any noise. A few minutes of silence later, she began to wonder if she had imagined it and finally worked up the courage to her out of bed to check it out. Grabbing her curling iron before heading out the door, she walked as quietly as she could to her kitchen. Armed with the iron, she almost knocked out Jesse when she walked to find him sitting there. “What are you doing here? Have you seen the time? I could’ve killed you,” she shouted, still a little rattled. So much so in fact, that it took her a few seconds to even register the blood he was covered him. “What happened? Are you hurt?” She was hovering next to him a second later, grabbing his face with both her hands and inspecting his head for any wounds.