A.N - I'm not even going to apologise for the lateness of this chapter - It's apalling, I don't deserve forgiveness. I deserve to be shot.

On the plus side, yay an update. A long(ish) action-packed chapter that you may or may not find believable.

And, I'm going to London on Saturday. To see RENT. And it was my birthday on Tuesday. Been an amazing week. Thanks to everyone who made it so.


Suze Simon's To-Do List :

1. Try not to wring Paul Slater's neck.

2. Keep Calm.

3. Try not to scream.

Chapter Nine

"CUT!"

The voice of the video director blared around the studio as he shouted down into his megaphone.

Jesse dropped me slowly to the ground from our finishing position and squeezed my hand tightly when he saw how angry I was. Well, you'd be angry too if you were trying to perform a routine flawlessly on film and you end up having to stop for the twelfth time in an hour.

Paul was having some trouble lip-syncing.

I wasn't the only one getting annoyed. Apparently so was the director. And Jesse, Gina, Cole and even Jake, who came to cheer on Gina. It's not like this was a closed set. Anyone, except the press, were invited to watch the Paul Slater in action.

Could you get any more egotistical?

Jesse kissed each of my knuckles lightly, his fingers linked with mine.

"I know, querida," he whispered into my neck. "That's just Paul."

I giggled quietly and looked up in time to see Paul look away with a strange look on his face.

"Alright," the director sighed. "From the top. Again."

A loud noise boomed once before the studio fell silent and a red light came on, showing that the camera was on.

The now-familiar beat of the song started up again as we took our positions, ready for the camera to pan round to us.

"Yeah, yeah girl, when I saw your feet, walking along down that long, wide street."

Suppressing my usual cringe at the words, I fell easily into the routine I'd perfected weeks ago.

This time we hadn't even reached the chorus before the director yelled 'CUT!' angrily. I felt a small growl forming in my throat.

"Querida." Jesse warned softly, kissing me.

"Paul, baby, you seem distracted." I was pulled away from my kiss with Jesse by a familiar whiney voice. Kelly Prescott. "You don't normally perform so badly."

I hid my face in the crook of Jesse's shoulder to hide my laughter. I don't think she meant for it to sound that way.

"Is it the dancers?" She continued, ignoring the sniggers from around the room. "Because, if I was wearing what she was," she pointedly looked in my direction. "I'd get kind of distracted too."

Hey! It's not like I chose to wear this short, gold skirt and tacky, barely-there top. That was all Paul.

"No, Kelly," Paul pushed past her to go into his trailer. "It's not the outfits. But it is the dancer."

His last comment was clearly heard by everybody. The question was, which dancer was he talking about?

Kelly rounded a glare on the four of us.

"Whichever one of you it is that's got him like this," she warned. "Stop it. I'll not have you ruining his career and making me look bad because of it. Got it?"

We nodded dumbly as she turned on her heels and clicked her way out of the studio, towards Paul's trailer.

"Wow." Gina whistled. "What crawled up her -"

Her sentence was interrupted by a loud crash coming from Paul's trailer. We all turned to look at it slowly, Jesse pulling me backwards into his arms and wrapping his arms around my waist.

No one moved, even when the sound of another glass smashing echoed in the studio.

"I'll go," Jesse sighed, unwrapping his arms from around my waist. "Someone has to."

"Yeah," Cole agreed laughing. "And if someone's hurt, you're a doctor, right?"

"In training." Jesse countered with his own chuckle.

Ever since Jesse had taken over as my dance partner - and Bryce was out of the picture - Jesse had been much more relaxed with everybody.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

Josefina's voice came from behind me.

"What?" I whispered to her, hoping no one was watching me.

"I think that everything is going to change." She confirmed. "Soon. Look after my brother for me, would you?"

I nodded instinctively before shaking my head to clear it.

"Josefina." I began. "What do you mean?"

She just nodded her head over my shoulder, and I turned to see a very pale Jesse making his way towards me.

"We have to go, querida." He insisted. "Now."

"But," I stammered. "The video!"

"Can wait until tomorrow." He pushed. "Now, Susannah."

I allowed myself to be led out of the studio and around the back of the lot where Jesse and I was alone.

"What was all that about?" I demanded, leaning back against the big, metal studio.

My question went unanswered.

Jesse only crushed me to him in a tight hug as he kissed the junction of my neck and shoulder softly.

"It's you, Susannah." He whispered. "You're the dancer that had Paul so distracted. You and me together. He doesn't like it."

"Me?" I repeated, barely able to wrap my mind around it. I'd only ever spoken to Paul that one time after I'd nearly-broken my nose. (Which, by the way, was totally healed now. No more ugly nose-cast for me).

"Yes." He nodded in confirmation. "You. He's angry that we're together. He was talking to Kelly when I went over there, screaming at her. She had thrown the plates, Paul had a cut down his cheek. But he … He said your name, querida. He said that, and I quote, 'it was unfair that he'd brought you here, and you fell for me, and not him.'"

"Brought me here?" I repeated, again. "How? Why?"

"I don't know." Jesse insisted, the worry evident in his voice. "But we can't go back in there. He will find a way to get us apart. He is famous, in spite of his lack of ability. He has power, querida."

He kissed me again, almost like our time was running out. Well, it wasn't. And I wasn't going to let him think that.

I pulled apart from him and looked deep in to his dark, brown eyes.

"Jesse, I won't let him." I promised. "Paul Slater cannot keep us apart."

Jesse opened his mouth to say something, only to shut it in confusion when it wasn't his voice we heard.

"I think I have something to say about that."

We turned in unison to find Paul Slater standing in front of us, his cheek red with the blood that was a result from the cut Jesse had described.

"Hola, Señor De Silva." Paul greeted with a sneer.

--- --- ---

Jesse's eyes narrowed at Paul as he pushed me protectively behind him, taking on a fighting stance when I was out of Paul's line of sight.

He laughed.

"That won't work, de Silva." He criticised. "In fact, that helps me a lot."

I screamed as I felt a strong hand wrap around my arm and pull me towards a wide, broad body. Another hand clamped down on my mouth to stop the sound.

Jesse turned around, his eyes wide with fear.

"Susannah." He whispered concernedly. And, obviously deeming me the most important thing in this entire situation, he turned and started towards me.

"Ah-ah-ah." Paul chastised. "Wouldn't try that, Rico Suave."

I felt something cold press against my temple. He had a gun. Paul's goon had a gun. I saw Jesse freeze with fear. Just as I saw Paul cock back his fist behind him.

My teeth clamped down hard on the hand that was over my mouth. The man who was holding me cried out in pain as he dropped his hand from my mouth and dropped the gun he was holding.

"Jesse, watch out!" I managed to scream in warning.

Jesse turned around to see Paul's fist flying towards his jaw, ready to deal a blow that would surely knock him unconscious. Only, he managed to dodge it and instead deliver a punch to Paul's stomach that hand him bending over and gasping for breath.

With Paul otherwise occupied, Jesse ignored him and ran for me, clutching my hand tightly as we ran away from the scene behind us, Paul's goon dumbly watching us as we left.

When Paul spoke again, I wasn't so far away that I didn't hear him. He breathed out two words that sent shivers up my spine.

"After … Them."

Without wasting another second, I ran faster, hearing the heavy pounding of footsteps in the gravel behind us.

Jesse's hand was clutched in my own, both hands frozen with fear.

Jesse had been right. Josefina's prediction was right. And I was scared. All I'd wanted to do was dance.

We quickly reached Jesse's car and separated our hands in order to climb into the car. The second we did - and buckled up our seatbelts - we were racing out of the parking lot, leaving an angry gun shot and the clang of the gun falling to the ground behind us.

Jesse and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I told you." He muttered passionately whilst his voice was laced with relief. "I told you. He wants something from you. He doesn't want us to be together."

"Why?" I demanded. "Why me? What has he got against you? Against us?"

"I don't know, querida." He admitted. "But we're safe now."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Safe."

And I believed it.

Until we heard the screech of car tyres on the road not far behind us.

--- --- ---

Jesse swerved left suddenly, causing the car to make a horrible screeching sound.

"¡Díos!" He cursed. "I was going to drive to my family's house, but I don't want them to know about it. They'll only follow us."

He said it out loud for my benefit. I could tell that he was trying to think quickly.

"So, what do we do?" I asked quietly.

Jesse looked over at me in alarm. I could see the answer written on his face.

"I'm sorry, querida." He whispered.

"It's okay." I whispered back.

He nodded quickly and pushed his foot down on the accelerator, gaining speed ridiculously fast.

We had to lose them. He was apologising for speeding, and putting me in danger. I managed a small, wry smile. My boyfriend, always the gentleman. Even in times of crisis.

I looked out the back window to see the car gaining speed almost as fast as us. Possibly faster. For the first time that day, I heard my heartbeat increase in fear.

"Jesse…" I warned him.

"I know."

His foot was as far down on the pedal as it could go, the needle on the speedometer working hard to keep above 180.

But it didn't matter.

However fast we went, Paul and his goon went faster. They'd gained on us in a matter of minutes before overtaking us and slamming to a stop in front of us.

Jesse's foot went quickly over to the break pedal, but it was too late. We were heading straight towards the now empty truck that they'd been driving.

I heard the crunch of metal, the explosion of glass and a scream - my scream.

I also heard Jesse's voice, faintly, scream my name in fear for me and not himself.

Again I let the smile form slightly.

Jesse, ever the gentleman.

A warm trickle of blood ran down my face and I heard the sound of the door wrench open and sirens in the distance before everything went black.