A.N - I'm sorry about the delay for this, really. I'm just not as interested in writing it as I am with some of my other stories. It takes this long to get update because I'd rather wait until I like what I'm writing than forcing a chapter out.

:)

Hope you guys are still with me anyway. And Mysterious Girl should be updated later today.


Chapter Nine

Jesse

Twenty-four hours: The time that had passed whilst I anxiously awaited my messenger's return.

The time that had passed whilst I waited to hear a response that could potentially make everything I had suffered worthwhile.

But it was also the amount of time that Susannah had had in order to take action with the information I had given her.

And it was that thought, more than any other, which had me bouncing my knee nervously.

Thankfully, my cellmate was once again asleep, and therefore was unaware of the agitation flowing through my veins.

When the ethereal glow belonging to any ghost flashed in the corner of the cell, it caught my attention immediately. I jumped up and practically sprinted – or the equivalent that such a small space would allow – towards the figure of Father Dominic.

"Padre!" I exclaimed, my anxiety forcing my voice to sound hoarse and strained. "What did she say?"

"Well, er," he paused and I felt that, if we'd been back in his principal's office at the mission - and he'd been alive - then he'd have reached for his forever unopened packet of cigarettes. "Susannah said that she'd, um, take a look."

I paused expectantly, heart racing in fear and exhilaration.

"And?"

"And, that was all."

My world came crashing down around me as I felt the wind knock out of my chest as if I'd been kicked. I had to fall down onto my cot in despair.

That was all?

That was all?!

Susannah didn't say anything about what had had me nervous all day? Nothing to reply with.

I thought that … I was so sure that …

Groaning, my head fell into my hands.

"Nothing else was said?" I clarified, my eyes never leaving his face.

Father Dominic shook his head gravely.

"Nothing else was said," he repeated, his eyes darting away from my own intense glare. "By both parties."

That floored me.

And simultaneously raised my hopes once again.

"You didn't tell her that I loved her?"

However annoyed I was at Father Dominic, I was more relieved that Susannah hadn't said she didn't love me in return. I was still blissfully unaware of her true feelings.

"I felt that it would be best coming from you, Jesse."

I could see the reasoning behind that, I supposed.

It's just … with me in here, for an undecipherable amount of time, and Paul - a murderer, completely unpredictable and determined - out there, fighting to take Susannah away from me …

I had to tell her when I next had the opportunity. She had to know before she went to Paul and looked in that blasted box like I'd told her to.

"Did she say what she was going to do today?"

My words came out more harsh than I had originally intended.

"I cannot tell you what she was going to do today, exactly." He informed me. "Only that she would 'check it out'."

I can only assume that Father Dominic's eyes widening was in response to my face dramatically paling.

"Jesse, what's wrong?"

Forcing myself to calm down, I took a deep breath.

"You're sure she didn't say when?"

If she had already been to Paul Slater's house, and seen the box … Paul would not be happy. He'd want to know how she knew. And then he'd know about us.

"Good Lord, Jesse," Father Dominic inhaled sharply. "You don't have to be worried about Susannah. She is quite capable of taking care of herself." He paused reflectively. "Susannah has proven that on any number of occasions."

His words were working. I chose to believe him on the grounds that he had been the one that knew of all of her Mediator tasks, not I. Father Dominic would know how good Susannah was at getting out of tricky situations.

"Yeah, okay." I nodded and stood again, having regained my composure. "I trust her." I smiled widely. "I love her."

Father Dominic smiled appreciatively and shimmered slightly, looking ready to disappear.

"Hey, Padre?" He paused, looking over at me. "Thank you. For everything."

"You're welcome, Hector." He smiled at me once more before vanishing into the darkness.

I was left with the comforting snores belonging to Tony echoing in the cell as I thought desperately about Susannah's safety.

And Paul's tendency to hurt those he felt knew him too well.


"Get up."

Despite having been hearing it for over a year, I'd never really gotten used to Tony being the one to wake me up.

"Come on, man. You have a visitor."

Fully awake, I jumped up, anxiously awaiting the guard to take me to Susannah - or so I assumed.

"I don't know why you're getting so many these days." He shook his head. "You can't have that many friends left, considering why you're here."

I clenched my teeth and refused to retaliate.

Luckily, I was taken away and handcuffed before my cellmate had a chance to reply in his usual sarcastic manner.

Unceremoniously, I was pushed into the dreaded stiff chair and I picked up the phone to my side, glaring at the guard in an attempt to hide my excitement.

Paul Slater's grinning face successfully quenched my good mood.

"What do you want?"

Paul merely laughed, grinning at me maliciously.

"I just wanted to let you know," he leaned in conspiratorially closer, not that it mattered. "Susannah stayed the night last night."

He leaned back in his chair, satisfied, whilst my heart started to shatter.

"Yeah," he sneered. "I thought you might appreciate that."

"You leave her alone, Slater." I growled. "I swear, if you touch her, I'll -"

"You'll what?" he challenged, bored. "Talk me to death? There's nothing else you can do, is there Rico Suave? You're in there."

His blue eyes glinted.

"And me? I'm out here. In beautiful, sunny Carmel-by-the-Sea." He looked around the stark white room, obvious glee in his eyes. "And I have Susannah waiting for me in my bed."

My hand clenched around the receiver I was holding to my ear.

"But I'll leave you with this final thought," Paul scraped his chair backwards, standing up abruptly as I clung to our form of connection for his words. "I didn't say that she was there willingly."

He winked at my ashen-coloured face, knowing the signs of my anger about to spiral out of control.

"Hey," he shrugged. "You only have yourself to blame."

Then, he hung up.

My rage was boiling inside of me like froth, bubbling to the surface. I wanted to get my hands on Paul Slater and beat him to oblivion for even daring to think about what he'd implied had happened to my querida.

And, one way or another, Paul Slater was going to pay.