A/N Thankyou so much to everyone who reviewed! I seriously hope you enjoy this chapter - I enjoyed writing it. A note to Mrs DJ Danja - here's your drama! And also to "Autumn" - I haven't heard from you in a while. I hope I didn't upset you with my author's note from a previous chapter.
And finally, to Megan. I hope you are enjoying your party. Or, at least, the car ride home.
The Stroke of Midnight
November
"Good morning, querida."
I sat up to see a steaming plate of pancakes before me, complete with golden syrup and two forks. Jesse sat at the end of the bed, and handed one fork to me, before tucking in. I grinned, before doing the same. I think my taste-buds pretty much exploded as I placed my first forkful in my mouth.
"You know," Jesse said, conversationally, as I continued to stuff my face with breakfast. "I think this is my first vacation day since I started working at the police station." My eyes nearly popped out of my head.
"You are kidding," I replied, but he shook his head. "Have you, like, never been ill?" Jesse shrugged, and helped himself to another mouthful of pancake. I surrendered my fork, now officially full. "I cannot believe you have willingly worked through a cold. I have to forgo school even if I sneeze, like, once." Jesse smiled.
"I'm glad I took it," he assured me, as if I was beginning to think otherwise. "And as if long weekends couldn't get any better, I got to spend this one with you." He made his way up to the pillows so that he could kiss me gently on the lips. "I love you," he said, against my mouth. I responded by kissing him all over again.
"I'm sorry to bring you back to work," I said, after we had finished – and by this time the pancakes (what was left of them) were officially cold. I fiddled with the duvet I was under, uncomfortably. "But I was kinda wondering… if we could visit Paul today." Jesse studied me concernedly. "Only to see how he's doing."
"Susannah…" Jesse began awkwardly. "Do you still have feelings for…?" I must have looked alarmed, as he leaned away from me a little.
"No!" I argued, almost immediately. "Of course not! I mean, I don't even I think I did in the beginning. "It's just… if what you said was true, before – you know, about not even his parents coming back from their holiday to visit him, then he must be lonely." I raised my eyebrows comically. "And if you got a lonely prisoner…" I continued cryptically. "You never know what will happen." Jesse chuckled.
"Alright then, my over-imaginative Susannah," he agreed. "We'll go and visit Paul." I smiled triumphantly, before ducking back under the covers as Jesse drew the curtains. "Argh!" I said, as the sunlight poured in. "Two more minutes!"
"You can go first," I said, giving Jesse a little push into the jail. He glanced back at me in mock appreciation. "You know. Seeing as you're the guy and everything."
"So now you choose to be old-fashioned," he replied, but he took the lead, pulling me behind him by my hand. He threw his police badge onto the desk as we reached it. "Officer Jesse De Silva," he said, and the person at the desk inspected it carefully, before giving a quick nod. "We'd like to see prisoner Paul Slater, please." The man at the desk frowned confusedly, before checking the computer to his left.
"He's been released, sir," he said, politely. "Over the weekend, by the looks of things. Someone posted his bail." Jesse matched his bewildered frown, before replying.
"Can you check with your colleague, please? Perhaps you have the wrong file." The man's fists curled, but he turned and yelled to his unseen colleague.
"Earl! Come check this computer!" Another man with a ginger toupee appeared and twirled his moustache thoughtfully.
"What was the name?" he asked, and Jesse gave it to him. The same file came up. "Released yesterday, Officer," he replied. "Paul Slater, crimes of drug possession and distribution. Bail posted by a Mr. Jack Slater." My grip on Jesse's hand tightened nervously.
Jesse's voice was low. "Thank-you," he said, before recollecting his badge and replacing it inside his wallet. He turned to me. "Released," he said, like I hadn't heard the many times we had been told this.
"Yeah," I whispered. "Could we… could we go to his house, to check that he's O.K?" Jesse's mouth twisted, but he reluctantly agreed.
"Of course."
We climbed back into his car and I gave Jesse directions to Scenic Drive, where we were greeted by the glass house I had spent so much time in during previous months. However, it was Jesse's apartment that I was now spending most of my time – maybe more time than I actually spent in my dorm. We pulled up on the driveway, and Jesse whistled.
"It's a nice house," he said, and I nodded. We walked up the driveway in silence, and I rang the doorbell with a heavy heart. We waited nearly a whole minute before it was finally answered by Paul.
He was not in good shape. His face was unshaven, and the skin around his bloodshot eyes was red and puffy. There was also a faint stench of beer. "Hi," he said, weakly, before holding the door open. "Come on in."
"Hi, Paul," I replied, standing on my tip-toes to kiss him lightly on the cheek. "It's good to see you. How are you?"
"Do you want a drink?" Paul offered instead, as we were led into the living room. I chewed my lip. "Water? Wine? Beer?"
"Water, please," Jesse and I said simultaneously. Paul nodded, before disappearing into the living room. I took Jesse's hand in mine gratefully, and squeezed it.
"Thank you for coming with me," I said, appreciatively. "I mean…" I cleared my throat. "Considering what happened the last time me and Paul were alone together." Jesse nodded, before smiling slightly.
"Of course," he replied, gently. "There is never anything to worry about when you're with me, querida." He kissed my fingers softly.
"Did you want still or sparkling-?" Paul froze in the doorway into his lounge, his eyes on mine and Jesse's entwined fingers. I wrenched my hand out of Jesse's grasp… but it was too late. Paul had already seen it, and guessed everything. He turned on his heel and left the room again. I jumped up and chased after him, calling his name.
"Paul!" I yelled, my voice growing hoarse with anxiety. "Paul! Come on, I'm sorry, it's just-"
"Suze." His voice was apologetic. I turned to my left to see Paul standing at the foot of his marble staircase, a handgun pointed at my gut. His hands trembled and I screamed, backing against the wall, terrified.
"Querida?" Fretful footsteps could be heard coming into the hallway. "Are you alright-?"
"Jesse, no!" I tried to warn him, but it was too late. He was already into the hallway, his eyes fixed on the gun that Paul now had directed at him. I clasped a hand over my mouth, trying to smother to hysterical sobs of fear that were erupting from it.
"You promised," Paul said, his voice almost a whisper. "You promised me that I wouldn't lose you to anyone. Especially not…" The gun shook with Paul's fury, and he lowered his voice even more. "Especially not Jesse De Silva."
"I'm s-s-sorry," I spluttered, my body shuddering with terror. "I'm so, so sorry." Paul scoffed, placing a second hand on the gun to steady it. Jesse gripped the doorway behind him.
"Of course you are," he replied. "Everybody's sorry when you have a gun." He clicked his tongue. "Tell me, Suze. How would it make you feel if you lost Jesse?" He shut one eye, aiming directly at Jesse. "To this gun?"
"Please," I begged, my voice cracking. "Please don't make me find out."
Paul rolled his eyes, before readjusting the gun. Jesse sigh in obvious relief, before he realised who it was pointed at instead.
"Paul, no…" He started, but he could see that it had already been decided.
And then I was aware of three things: first, Paul's fingers readying themselves on the trigger. Then, my final scream of fear prior to seeing Jesse step in front of me protectively before –
BANG.
