It's 4am. Sue me if I'm not talkative.
- Lolly.
Love us.
- 8 -
When I woke up at seven the next morning, there was nothing to indicate that that day would be almost as horrible as its previous.
I mean, seriously. The sun looked so comfortable in the sky, shining rays of warmth across Gilroy, that I would have never guessed what was going to happen. It seemed unreal that yesterday had gone so horribly wrong. That Danielle Moore's stiff, cold body had been found in a shower on Fortunaschwein's own third floor.
Surreal.
Jack was still sleeping. His upper body was stretched across my lap, and he was snoring softly. Well, uh, at least he wasn't drooling this time. And even if he was, it wasn't like I was wearing anything fashionable or otherwise ruin-able. See? I count my blessings, honest.
I remembered that this morning, he was going back home. God, I wish that I could have been him. I would have done anything to get out of here, away from the Misfortunates, away from Dani's death place, away from Jesse and Paul, away from this hell.
I mean, really. I thought Massachusetts was bad?
I didn't have a CLUE about bad until I'd arrived at this school.
Little did I know that a collision of my two hells was destined to soon occur.
'Jack,' I whispered, running my hand up his back gently, 'Jack, wake up. Come on, it's morning.'
He mumbled something incoherent about school and his girlfriend Mary, but otherwise ignored me completely.
Though calm and rested, he still lacked the peace usually aquainted with good sleep. Instead of possessing that cute lil-sleepy-darling charm most young boys have when they snooze, he looked troubled.
But nothing troubling in a dream could ever compare to the nightmare our world had become. No wonder he didn't want to wake up.
I sighed, and prayed for patience. Well, as much as I could, considering I had a few bones to pick with The Big Man himself. I still prayed, though.
Then I jabbed him in the side.
Well, um, that woke him up.
He sat up so fast that he bashed his head on the roof of Father Dom's car, looking around in alarm.
'WHERE?' he yelled.
I raised my eyebrows at him, and when he turned to see me doing so, he blushed. 'Uhhhh . . . sorry,' he went. 'I was – I was just – '
'Snoring,' I finished for him. 'Come on, Jack. You're going back today, have you got everything packed?'
He shook his head. 'Jesse said I could finish the rest of my stuff in the morning,' he told me.
'Well come with me, I'll help you,' I said.
Father Dom, being a priest and all, didn't really have a fancy car. It was kind of small, but in a cozy way. It was a little difficult maneuvering through the mess of the covers Jack and I shared. Twisting out of them was hard, especially for Jack because he had long legs.
We finally twisted out of the mess of blankets (and the rug) and made it out of the car alive, and reasonably untangled.
We passed Paul's car. He was still sleeping in the passenger's seat. His mouth was open slightly, and he was frowning. Like he too was having bad dreams about his former girlfriend, just like Jack had earlier. I think I stared for a moment longer than was polite, before looking away hurriedly.
It took a while to finish packing all the rest of Jack's stuff. Apparently, Jesse wasn't as good at this baby-sitting thing as I thought. I mean, he had enough trouble looking after me when I was-
a kid. That's exactly what I was, back then. A kid locked into a crazy, childish fantasy of something that can't, didn't, and will not EVER happen.
But, anyway, Jack's stuff was only half-packed. And it didn't really seem like Jack was all that enthusiastic about packing the other half, even with my help.
When the last bag was packed, I placed it on his bed and said in the lightest tone I could manage in a time like this, 'Well, kiddo, let's get this stuff downstairs.'
I took one of the bags off the bed and made my way to the door. I noticed that Jack didn't follow my lead, so I turned around to face him. He gave me a withering look.
'I don't want to go,' Jack said.
'I know doing the right thing is hard to do,' I explained, 'but sometimes it requires doing something you don't want to do.'
Yeah, like letting Jesse down. That wasn't so easy for me. I didn't want to crush his heart like that, but I had to. It just wasn't right.
Apparently, neither was the Paul thing. Even if it was something I had kind of secretly wanted deep, deep down. But I wasn't about to go admitting that to his little brother who didn't even know of our late-night relations. And there was no way in HELL I'd admit that to Paul himself, either.
'I want to stay.'
'No you don't, Jack, trust me.'
'I KNOW what I want,' Jack's voice raised a few decibels. 'I'm not a baby. I wish people would stop treating me like one, already!'
'You want to end up dead, Jack?'
Jack stopped dead still. My word choice was, yet again, a big mistake. He didn't know about the Misforts' involvement in the death- I mean, MURDER- of Dani Moore.
'What do you mean?' he breathed.
'Nevermind that,' I said quickly. 'Just…it's not very safe here. We've taken a big blow, and its going to take some time to recover. I have a feeling, Jack, that we'll be getting a few more punches than we have time to get back up on our feet. And besides, this place is too scary to stay, especially after…you know.'
Jack looked at the ground and then looked back up at me. 'I-I'm not scared,' he said, his voice wavering unsurely.
'Yes you are, Jack. You couldn't even sleep a full night peacefully, and we weren't even inside the damn building,' I pointed out, accidentally forgetting to censor my words. It was hard to remember that, especially since Jack had lost his childhood innocence. No kid his age sees a thing like that and remain a normal thirteen-year-old.
Jack looked a little more than taken aback. He blinked a few times, and a single tear ran down his cheek. He wiped it off angrily with the back of his hand and glared furiously at me.
'If this place is so scary,' he sniffed angrily, 'then why don't you leave too, Suze?'
I sighed. What is it with the youth of today?
'Because,' I explained impatiently, 'I've got a job to do-'
'So you're admitting you're scared, too,' Jack said, crossing his arms. He had me in his little trap.
I think it's in his genes to be right all the time. Do you know how much that sucks?
When I couldn't find myself answering his question, he smirked the same I'm-right-you're-wrong-I'm-so-much-better-than-you-lowly-peasant smirk his brother pulled on me so many times. I dropped Jack's bag and tried everything I could to keep from losing it and exploding in tears.
Oh God. Not him, too.
That hurt. It really did. It was like getting another put-down from Paul Slater himself. The apple truly doesn't fall far from the tree…
But the tears drove a strong rebellion. They escaped from my eyes in an angry mob, tearing down my face and burning my cheeks on the way down.
And the next thing I knew, Jack was in my arms, head buried deep in my chest, crying his eyes out just like I was.
'I-I'm s-sorry, Suze,' he sobbed, lifting his head from my chest so he could look at me. 'I am scared. But that's why I don't want to leave. I'm not scared about me…I'm scared about you.'
'What do you-?'
'I don't know what made Dani do…that,' Jack cried, 'she was obviously really depressed. And ever since she, you know, died, you've been acting really weird. You're, like, really scared about things now. And you've been crying lots.'
Observant little fella, ain't he?
'Don't worry about me, Jack,' I told him as I ruffled his hair.
'But…what about that guy,' he asked with a sniffle.
'What guy?'
'That Cole guy? That guy Dani was talking about. What if he finds you?'
I hadn't had time to think about that much since Dani's death. The only other time it was mentioned was by CeeCee. I pretty much blew her off, which was what I planned to do for Jack.
'That's the least of my worries,' I said. 'And besides, I can handle him. I've managed in the past.'
Yeah. Like I managed to get that big bruise on my cheek…
Jack stopped crying and sniffling. He looked a little less troubled now. He wiped his eyes using the bottom of his shirt. When he was done, he managed a small smile.
'You go to the bathroom as wash your face off,' I told him, with a little pat on his cheek. 'I won't tell anyone I saw you crying, if you'll go back to Carmel and forget about this…deal?'
'Deal,' he sniffed. He scuffled over to the door, but before he exited he turned around and said, 'I'll miss you, Suze. You're the only one that understands me sometimes.'
He left the room shortly after his little speech. I smiled to myself and picked up his bags to take downstairs, where I'd wait for him to come down. We would then wait on Adam and CeeCee who had so graciously volunteered to take him home.
The bags were kind of heavy. Jack's various hand-held gaming systems were a little heavier than I imagined when thrown into the mix of clothes and shoes. Especially since Jack preferred to wear Converse, Vans, and Doc Marten's.
Converse are light and Vans aren't too bad, but Doc Marten's seem to weigh 20 pounds a pop. And the fact that I was sore all over didn't quite help matters.
But, luckily (or unluckily in other senses), Jesse appeared to take some off my hands. Oh, Goodie.
I immediately set down the bags as Jesse appeared in front of me. He didn't startle me or anything, but his sudden presence made me feel tired all of a sudden. This whole place made me tired.
I thought I could start all over again, just like the first time I moved to California. Get a new start. I could forget about my abusive boyfriend, my usually dead-end jobs, and make some money while I was at it. I don't quite know at what moment of insanity I decided to take this plunge, but now I know fully that it just wasn't worth it anymore.
Jesse looked at me apologetically as he hoisted one of the bags on his shoulder.
'Last night he was just so inconsolable,' Jesse explained, 'and I just could not make him pack that way.'
I nodded in understanding. Jesse took on a few more bags, and left me with one wimpy little carry-on size backpack. I wasn't about to object to Jesse's inadvertent sexist statement because, like I said earlier, I was tired. Dead tired.
'He doesn't want to leave,' I told Jesse as I navigated down the long hallways.
'I know,' Jesse replied, 'but it is the best thing for him.'
'I don't understand it, though. He said he didn't want to go because he was afraid for me, or something stupid like that,' I said.
'I do not think that is stupid at all,' Jesse commented, a little too darkly for my liking.
I stopped in my tracks. 'And what's that supposed to mean?'
Jesse stopped, too, and did that little running-hand-through-the-hair-bit he always pulled when he was slightly frustrated. 'It means,' he said, 'that contrary to your personal belief, Susannah, people do care about you. Not everyone here is against you. In fact, it is quite the opposite. We are one team, querida.'
'I told you not to call me that,' I snapped.
Jesse continued walking down the hall.
'I know,' he said.
I stared at him as he started down the stairs. I then picked up the backpack and ran after him, grumbling about how unfair he was being. He walked ahead of me a little, and I swear I could hear him chuckling. Chuckling at ME.
Well, I didn't think it was that funny.
I saw CeeCee and Adam at the bottom of the stairs, waiting. They seemed to be talking quietly about something.
'Right now?' CeeCee said in an audible whisper. 'I mean…isn't this a little short notice?'
'A lot of things can happen between now and then, CeeCee,' Adam said, gently caressing her cheek.
'You're right,' CeeCee said.
And that's noticed me climbing down the stairs with one little backpack…
…and a few other heavy bags levitating at least 5 feet in the air. I guess that kind of thing is hard to ignore.
'Whoa, that's trippy,' Adam said, breaking off his little conversation with Cee.
'Hey Suze…hey Jesse,' CeeCee said, greeting us a little absently. She stepped away from Adam, looking as if she had something on her mind.
Adam looked at her, puzzled, for a moment and then asked, 'Where's Jack?'
I'd promised Jack I wouldn't tell anyone about the cry-fest earlier, so I replied, 'He's upstairs brushing his teeth.'
'Oh,' Adam said. He looked at CeeCee again, who had her arms folded over her chest, gnawing on her thumb. I was about to ask what was wrong, when Adam cut me off, commenting, 'Your face is puffy.'
'Allergies,' I replied automatically. I always blamed them. I mean, the pesky critters are camped out everywhere. They disguise themselves as kittens or pretty flowers or tall Cottonwood trees…
And I hide behind them.
After a sort of uncomfortable silence and thick tension between us all, Jesse and I for obvious reasons but Adam and CeeCee for reasons they didn't seem to want to discuss, I decided to call for Jack.
A figure emerged downstairs, and for a moment I thought it was Jack because I saw dark brown curls, but I later saw that it was Paul.
'Oh, it's you,' I found myself saying bitterly. 'I thought you were Jack for a moment.'
'I just passed him. He's on his way down,' Paul replied.
I just stared at him. How could he act like nothing was going on? I mean, is it programmed into all men's' heads not to respond to anything emotional? First off, his little brother- his FLESH AND BLOOD- was just about to leave, and second of all…what about me?
It's not like it really mattered what HE was thinking about ME. I mean, we only just spent one night of pure bliss together. That was it. All the rest was nothing. But that didn't mean he had to go and act like nothing ever happened. That he didn't say what he'd said…
How did this go from Jack to Paul? I don't even want to know.
Paul finished descending the stairs in his usual manner that oozed a sexy, masculine grace and poise. And the fact that he was in a white button down shirt compliments of Polo by Ralph Lauren and some really nice fitting Diesel jeans didn't help matters. Did I mention that he didn't button the top two buttons of his shirt?
Not that it mattered. Sexy wasn't just about looking good and being excellent in the sack. It also dealt with not being a JERK. So, HAH.
I wanted to make it absolutely, positively clear to Paul that I didn't care, even if I wasn't quite sure whether or not I did. So I told him off all right.
'You need to cut your hair,' I sniffed with utmost dignity.
Wow. I think I need some psychiatric help. Seriously, what does a stupid haircut prove?
Well, I mean, besides the fact that his hair was so long and kind of curly-ish, and that one bit that fell in his eyes all the time was kind of-
You know what? I'll stop there for now.
Paul ran his hands through his hair, tilting his head back in a mini pose and then shook his hair out. Then he shrugged, kind of ignoring my little comment.
After a few more moments of uncomfortable stares, glares, and coughing, Jack finally trudged down the stairs, looking a little lighter in spirits than he had earlier. Then again, that might all change depending how we all take the blow of his departure.
'You ready, little guy?' Adam asked, taking his keys from his pockets.
Jack looked down and the up at Paul, pleadingly. 'Do I really have to go?' Jack asked once again, his lower lip pouting.
'Jack,' Paul said sternly, almost fatherly, 'we've been over this.'
Jack sighed loudly and kicked the ground a little with the toe of his beat up Converse All Stars.
Paul rolled his eyes, not in annoyance or anything, but with a small grin.
'Come here,' he motioned, holding his arms out for a hug.
'I'm not hugging you,' Jack said, wrinkling his nose, 'You smell funny. Like ten gallons of after-shave or something.'
'And you smell like you need ten gallons of after-shave,' Paul retorted good-naturedly. He then pulled Jack in for a quick hug. The initial awkwardness melted away in seconds, and it melted the plasticity of their relationship. It was a rare moment, but I could actually see somewhat of a brotherly connection between the two.
But then that kind of went away when Jack whined, 'You aren't gonna kiss me nothing, are you?'
'Hell no,' Paul backed away, disgusted.
'Thank God.'
After they stopped their embrace, Paul and Jack both coughed, bringing things back to what they were originally. I thought I saw Paul wipe something away from his eye, but I might have been hallucinating.
Then Jack turned to Jesse, who had dropped the bags by now. Jack smiled fondly at Jesse and nearly propelled himself into Jesse's arms. Jesse looked a little surprised at first, but he welcomed it with a warmness that radiated throughout the whole room.
'Take care of yourself,' Jesse advised softly.
'Yeah, well you have to take care of everyone else here,' Jack said. 'And Father Dom, too.'
'I would like nothing more,' Jesse replied.
'And you have to promise to visit me sometimes,' Jack pleaded. 'If you're not too busy, I mean.'
'Time is no object for me,' Jesse smiled at Jack, ruffling his hair. 'I promise I will come to visit.'
Jack let go of Jesse and gave Jesse a wary smile. He then took a step forward and said with a choked laugh, 'I can't believe I exorcised you that one time. I totally believed everything that Maria lady told me about you. I know that was a big mistake, especially since Suze went all postal on me. She was all, "You exorcised my best friend!" I guess I never thought you could have ghosts as best friends. But now I know you can, because I do.'
Jesse looked extremely shocked, but at the same time touched. 'Jack-'
'No really,' Jack insisted, now with a small tear trickling down his face, 'you're my best friend. My best friend in the whole world. I don't want to leave here.'
Jesse extended his arm and rested it on Jack's shoulder. He smiled warmly at him and replied, 'As a friend, Jack, I am advising you to leave. You already have my word…I will come to visit you.'
Jack sniffled some more and then croaked in the saddest voice ever, 'Thanks, Jesse.'
'Sorry to break up the tear-fest,' Adam said, 'but we've really got to hit the road.'
'I'm not in any hurry,' Jack said glumly.
Adam looked at CeeCee. Well, obviously, they were. I still didn't know why though.
Adam and CeeCee went over to the mound where Jesse had left the bags. Adam took one, looking up unsurely for permission to take it. After all, he really couldn't see Jesse to know whether or not Jesse was still taking them. Paul took a hint and grabbed some bags as well.
I went over to Jack and slipped his back-pack over his shoulders and then patted him on the back gently.
Hell, I was gonna miss the little guy. He was, like, the only piece of sanity left in this house. He was, like, the hard foundation of our mental health. And now that the Earthquake the Misforts caused shook him up, he had to leave. It could only make me wonder, looking forward, what was going to happen to the members of the SIA that decided to stay.
I turned Jack around and gave him one last hug. Then, he did something really, really odd. He planted a big fat kiss on my cheek.
Once he realized what he'd done, he turned the brightest shade of fuchsia and backed away apologetically.
He mumbled a few apologies and said his final good-byes. With Adam, CeeCee, and Paul carrying his stuff, he waved one final wave as he disappeared through the front door of the school.
And just like that, he'd left.
8 -
So. Jack was gone.
I felt kind of torn when CeeCee and Adam were bustling him into the car. I so badly wanted him to stay, but I knew that for his sake, he needed to get out of here before he saw anything else that would make him even more shaken up than he already was.
Hence, Jack was now gone. CeeCee and Adam were temporarily gone, and it was just Jesse, Paul and I still at Fortunashwein.
For THAT moment, anyway.
I was in the library again, going through some of the year books again. I didn't know why, I just guess that I wanted to keep trying to crack this case and all. You know, WHY the Misforts were still hanging around, WHAT actually happened to Robin (since he didn't kill himself, it must have been something else that did,) and WHY Bart got caught in a fire with three boys who he obviously hated.
Bart was really confusing, you know? I mean, why did he even hang around those jerk-offs? They pushed him around and treated him like dirt. Lower than dirt…earthworm droppings. And it wasn't like the guys really needed him around anyway. He didn't have Nathan's sick humor, Charlie's massive muscles, or Robin's sexy-but-dangerous charm. Bart was just Bartie-boy.
Bart didn't even seem to like these guys. Countless times he's denied his ties with them. And yet he follows them around like a loyal little puppy dog, watching as they destroy the people that have come to help them.
He's weird. You know, in a totally endearing lost-puppy sort of way. But that still makes him weird.
For instance, when they push him around and stuff? Yeah, he just lets them. He doesn't fight back or anything. He doesn't even try to exact revenge.
Then again, I haven't exactly done anything to get back at Cole either. Yeah, I ran off to California, but that was more for safety than for spite. Maybe Bart and I have something in common after all.
I sighed and continued to look through each page, at every boy's face. There were thousands of young men, pimply faced and scholarly, captured in the pages of the past yearbooks.
I didn't know what I expected to find. In the yearbooks, I mean. It wasn't as if they'd have any answers. But whatever.
'Suze.'
I broke away from leafing through the old pages, and looked up to see Paul at the library door. I kind of blinked, swallowed, and looked back down.
'Hi,' I said coldly.
I heard him walk in as he took a seat in next to me. 'Are you coming?'
Again, I looked up at him. 'Huh?'
'Gilroy. Police Station. Dani's autopsy report, remember?'
'Hmm,' I commented expressionlessly, turning back to the year book. 'I told you yesterday, I'm not going with you.'
I looked back at the picture of the Honor Students of 1965, till Paul's hand tugged the yearbook away from me.
I looked up, kind of annoyed, but he moved his chair closer to me. 'Come on,' he said, 'The car ride would do the both of us good.'
'So we can talk?' I laughed humorlessly, 'Wow, fun.'
'Suze,' he said again.
He was sitting right in front of me, and his ice frosted eyes were gazing at me intensely.
I can't believe that for a whole night, I was looking up at those eyes.
'Look, go,' I said. 'I already said that I was staying here. Jesse'll be here, nothing will happen.'
I went to stand up, but his hand came over mine. 'Suze, please.'
I was getting tired. Of him, of everything. Of almost dying, of breaking Jesse's heart, of avoiding the things that I was scared of most, of . . .
Tired of life, I guess. Since you know, THAT'S all my life seemed to consist of.
Paul, death, and fear.
And Jesse.
I ran my free hand through my hair, ignoring the warmth of his fingers on mine. 'I don't get you,' I said wearily. 'You're just - you . . . '
You won't make up your mind.
'I don't have to do this,' I said again, pulling my hand from his and standing up. 'Paul, just go. Go find out how the police think she died. It'll be wrong, we both know that. Just go.'
He was staring at me.
'Fine,' he said after a moment, his voice crisp and casual once again. Then, he turned from me, and half-yelled, 'De Silva, get over here.'
It took a few seconds for Jesse to materialize. Ha. Guess his promptness is the way to tell if he's in love with you or not, huh?
Seeing as he's there for be before I even have to say for him to come, sometimes.
Jesse's expression went stony. 'Slater,' he nodded.
The tension in the library went WAAAAAY up. Paul shoved his hand in his pockets, and a jingle indicated that he'd found car keys. 'I'm going into Gilroy. Suze wants to stay here. With you,' he added, as if it were some heinous crime. 'I swear to God, if I come back and you've let the Misfortunates - '
'Need I remind you, Slater, I am more capable of protecting Susannah than you, if yesterday is any indication,' Jesse said in cold anger.
Paul stiffened.
'I don't need protecting,' I snapped at the pair of them.
God, what did they think I was? Some chick who gets bashed by her ex or something?
Ha. Funny, that.
Fine. Maybe I need WATCHING, sometimes. But not PROTECTING.
They both ignored me, staring each other down for a moment longer. They looked like those deer with the really big antlers on their head, getting reading to fight over some female deer or whatever. You know, circling each other and stuff before ramming into each other like they do on the Discovery Channel?
Only, Paul and Jesse didn't have sharp, pointy antler-thingies on their heads. Supernatural powers, maybe. But no antlers.
Paul gave me one last look - one that was half cutting, half worried - and he exited the library. After a minute, I heard the front door of the school slam a little louder than it necessary, and Jesse finally spoke again.
'I want to show you something,' he said.
I was still standing by my chair. 'Oh,' I said, 'Uh, okay.'
I grabbed the 1965 year book and shoved it back with the others, before looking back at him. 'Jesse, about last night - well, more like this morning, I guess - '
He looked like he didn't really want to talk about it. 'It's all right,' he said quickly. 'Perhaps it was needed. Anyhow, come with me, because this is something that may help with our little mystery here.'
I nodded quickly.
Maybe some things were best left unsaid.
I guess that all the tension hadn't left when Paul did.
I walked ahead of him, as he obviously didn't like walking in the lead with a woman following behind him. Either that or he wanted to look at my ass.
Which I highly, HIGHLY doubt. Considering Jesse's 1850's-gentleman status.
'So,' Jesse said, attempting to make conversation. 'Are you well this morning?'
I smiled a little, in spite of myself. 'I'm fine.'
Aren't I always?
Snort.
Jesse coughed, as he was guiding me to the stairwell. 'I don't suppose you'd know the reason, but Slater is acting strangely around you, Susannah.'
A flush of panic heated up my face. 'Uh,' I said quickly, 'Nah, I think he's just effed up majority of the time.'
Jesse laughed softly. 'I don't know your "effed up" term, but - '
'Means "fucked up",' I translated boredly for him. 'Screwy. Bonkers. Psychotic.'
'I see,' said Jesse.
Ha. Bet you don't.
Wouldn't he just LOVE to know the real reason why Paul was acting "strangely" around me?
Oh, yeah Jesse. Paul and I got involved in some extra-curricular activities the other night. And NOW I'm no longer a virgin. Yay! Haha, isn't that FUNNY? Jesse - Jesse? J-Jesse, please, uh, put down the gun -
Ugh.
By the time we got to the fourth floor, I was kind of curious.
'What are you showing me?' I asked again.
I shall call him . . . Mini-Me.
'It may be nothing,' Jesse said quickly. 'I just thought you'd like to . . . look around.'
'Right,' I said.
We were walking down the OPPOSITE way of the attic, so I cancelled out all chances of him offering me as a sacrifice to the Misforts.
Yeah right, Suze. God, YOU'RE effed up too.
Then again, Jesse could have teamed up with them. You know, like forming some sort of ghostly secret society or whatever, plotting the termination of all life forms with a pair of working lungs and a beating heart.
But I highly doubt that.
Jesse's footsteps stopped at a door which I assumed he'd left open slightly. The door had a plaque above it, but the name had been sandpapered off or something. I could only make out an R, a H and a E.
'This,' Jesse said, 'Was the old principal's office.'
. . . Think brain, THINK -
Oh yeah. Mr Head. Old Headmaster.
R IC H ARD H E AD.
There we go.
'Okay,' I said with a slow nod, pushing the door open and stepping inside. I looked around.
Everything was brown. No really. First off, the window had these shutters over it. Like Mr Head had preferred the dark as opposed to the light. His desk was brown, his floorboards were brown, his walls were brown . . .
I saw a door on the right. I walked over to it, but it was locked. No prob.
'There's a bedroom there,' Jesse said. 'You cannot get to it, the door is locked, I believe.'
I looked around briefly, saw this fat lead paperweight on the desk, and picked it up. It's weight had quite an effect on my arm. I walked back over to the door, and with a swing and a loud noise, the door was no longer locked.
Jesse swore in Spanish under his breath in alarm.
Wow. Tables have turned. I'm scaring the GHOST this time.
'All good,' I assured, dusting my hands off heroically but unnecessarily.
I shoved the door open. It was rusty in its movement. A smell of "old people" hit me. I didn't know why. I mean, Mr Head couldn't have been that old when he was last here. I mean, not like, Dr Slaski old, anyway. He must have been about thirty something, since he was in there in 1969, and it was 2009 now, and you know, he was like, seventy or whatever.
Maybe he'd just left a floater in the toilet.
'Eww,' I said, when the pong infiltrated my nostrils.
'It isn't pleasant,' Jesse agreed.
'That's ONE way of saying it,' I scowled. There wasn't even a WINDOW in here. God. Rude.
I groped the wall - haha, coz that was one sexy wall - for a light switch, located it, and flicked it.
. . . Uh, wow.
Well, SOMEONE lived like a freakin' KING. God, this was even BETTER than the room I was inhabiting. It too had a chandelier, and was decked with tapestries and shit all over the freaking walls. I mean, there was a PORTRAIT of Mr Head. Only he had more hair, and less wrinkles.
What a LOSER.
What was he still doing in GILROY?
I'm sorry to say but, in that portrait, he didn't look as ugly and bitter as he did now. I'm not saying that he was a hottie. God, no. Just, you know, I can see why a certain type of woman would have found him attractive. He had that nerdy/scholarly/dominant thing going on with him.
Pity he turned out to be an old bastard.
'It's grand, isn't it?' Jesse commented. It was still all brown, like his office. Brown and gold. It actually looked NICE, too. Like, really nice. Classy, and pompous.
God, I should have found this room before. Paul could have randomly materialized the pair of us HERE instead of that crappy dorm bed on the floor below.
THIS was a bed that every girl wants to lose her V's on.
Although, as aforementioned, the stench was kind of a bummer.
'Uhhh,' I said. God. Are you GOOD enough for this room, Suze? 'Okay, well, what do we do now?'
'Look around,' Jesse suggested. 'It appears that he left behind several things.'
'Like . . . ?' I said.
He pointed. 'Start with that.'
I looked over, and saw that his finger was indicating a black-and-white photo. Upon closer inspection, I identified not only a VERY young Mr Richard Head, but a very young, very pretty, and very thin Mrs Abigail Head. She was dressed in a boring business-y housewife dress, and he was in a suit. They didn't look a day older than Paul and me.
I narrowed my eyes and saw that that was DEFINITELY a ring on Mrs Head's finger. A gigantic rock, at that.
These two were married real young, jeepers.
'This is interesting,' I said. 'But . . . it doesn't really tell me anything.'
Jesse looked a little embarrassed. 'I know,' he said, 'Just . . . maybe we should look a moment longer. We might discover something of importance that would help - '
'Yeah,' I shrugged. 'Maybe.'
The rug on the floor was even brown. It was all intricate looking and stuff. It was curled up at the edge. I kicked at it. 'I can't believe an ass like HIM got a room like THIS - '
'Susannah,' Jesse said sharply.
I went still.
Now, THAT'S what I'm talking 'BOUT.
'Oooh,' I said, 'Cool.'
Seemed that I'd uncovered something.
I bent down and pulled the carpet back a little further. One of the floorboards wasn't lying right. As if it had been moved a lot. You know . . .
I pulled it back - the floorboard, not the carpet, been there DONE that - and narrowed my eyes as a plume of dust came up. I coughed.
It was really dark in the small space that allowed a hand to go into it, nothing more. 'Jesse? Can you check what's down there?'
'Of course,' he said quickly, kneeling beside me. He shoved his hand right through the floorboards, trying to feel for any objects or something.
Eww. Maybe there was a body. OoOOoOooo. Maybe THAT was the smell!
However, when Jesse pulled out a mere LETTER, I was kind of disappointed.
'Is that it?' I asked negatively.
Jesse, once again looking apologetic, mumbled a, 'I believe so.'
'Oh,' I said. 'Well, uh, letters are nice. Maybe Mr Head had a penpal. From Uranus, his home planet.'
Jesse once again plunged his arm through the wood of the floor. I mean, as a ghost he could do that. Not have the wood in the way and all, I mean. He swiped around, and then came up with ANOTHER envelope.
'Well,' I said, not that impressed, 'Two letters are better than one, I guess.'
Jesse was seriously looking abashed now. His whole lets-explore-the-Headquarters-expedition was a complete flop.
'Perhaps,' he suggested, 'You should read their contents. There may be something - '
'Yeah, of course,' I said. 'We'll go back into the office - '
Jesse suddenly stood up, looking around hurriedly. Then, his face went solemn.
'Susannah,' he said, 'I must - I - Padre is calling me, I should go to - '
'Okay,' I said, 'Whatever.'
'No,' he overruled himself, 'I can't leave you - '
As much as I agreed with that, Father DOMINIC was calling. 'No,' I assured him, 'I'll be fine.'
Jesse stressed out. 'Susannah, wait outside the school grounds. I doubt I should be long,' he said. 'Come on, I'll lead you out and then I'll go - '
'But - '
'No buts,' he said.
Two, actually. Mine and yours.
'I'll be - '
He quickly put the floorboard and the rug back, ghost-style, and hurried me out of the bedroom, and then the office. Then he guided me down the hall, and down the stairs. I still had the two envelopes in my hand. I folded them and shoved them in my pocket. I'd read them outside in the car, I guess, till Jesse got back.
God, maybe I SHOULD have gone with Paul. At least I didn't have to spend my time crammed in the pathetic excuse of a car that the Diocese gave Father Dom.
Once we were outside Fortunashwein, Jesse again looked around hurriedly. 'He is calling again,' he said in a low voice. 'Stay inside Padre's car, Susannah.'
This sucked. Father Dom's car didn't have cushiony leather interior like Paul's car. Which was, of course, the car I could be riding in right about now.
I whined something in irritation, but went outside the gates. The moment I did, Jesse, looking satisfied that I would be safe, dematerialized.
Well. That was weird.
Here I was.
Alone.
I was always alone.
Always would be.
Despite what Paul said.
You're never alone. You'll never be alone.
HAHAHA. funny. VERY DAMNED FUNNY, you ASSHOLE.
Maybe for one NIGHT, I wouldn't be. But what about after that, Paul? Why are you doing this to me now?
. . . Why?
I wandered over to Father D's car, and jumped in the front seat. Maybe I could go for a drive?
Pfft. Nah.
I'd probably get myself lost or something.
I shut the door, and pushed the car seat back, before propping my feet up on the dashboard, sighing.
Fortunaschwein's weather was slightly foggy again. No where near as bad as it had been that day in the graveyard, but foggy all the same.
It wasn't as low to the ground as it was that day. It was like, hanging in the air, kind of unmoving.
Unmoving. Like a certain corpse I'd seen the day before.
With a heavy swallow, I tried to push that out of my mind.
That sight, I mean.
God, I didn't blame Jack one bit for that nightmare he'd had last night. I mean, that's the stuff that nightmares are made of, right?
Death, I mean.
Just as I was kind of starting to slip into a train of thought, I heard a car behind me.
Gah. Paul was back already.
I didn't bother with going to greet him. All I could expect from him was a stupid assurance that the fuzz had indeed though Dani had killed herself. Hey, and maybe if I stayed silent in Father Dom's car he'd walk right by, and not bother me.
I pulled my feet from the dashboard.
I heard his car door slam behind me, and his footsteps.
Weird . . . he usually walks faster than that.
However, something made my heart lurch.
I had a rear view mirror, you see.
And . . . uh . . . that wasn't Paul's car. It was much junkier than Paul's super-sleek-super-expensive black Jaguar.
Curious to see who it actually was, I sat up in my seat, looking behind me over my shoulder.
. . . No one. Huh? But I heard -
However, it seemed that the person had come to the very side of my car, and was now smirking through the window, having located me.
Finally.
'Miss me?'
I stopped breathing.
' . . . Cole.'
No, no, no, no, no . . . no, not NOW . . .
There he was. Cole Kennedy, in all his blond-haired, grey-eyed glory. He looked like crap. Like he hadn't slept in a very long time. His hair was a mess, he obviously hadn't shaved in ages, and his eyes were dull, and bloodshot. He even had these major dark circles under his eyes. Not like the small kind I had, which I could easily cover up with some foundation. They were really, really dark.
My stomach vanished. I physically felt it just disintegrate, leaving behind a cavity that was soon filled with a cold dread.
The window was only slightly open. If . . . if I could get the keys from my pocket, slide them in the ignition . . . then I could be out of here. Away.
However, before any of that could even hope to occur, he, uh, opened the car door.
Instantly, I freaked. I went to slam it shut - his fingers in the door and everything - but he'd grabbed the door firmly enough to prevent me from doing so.
Following that, he leaned into the car further, his body suddenly very close to mine.
I seriously couldn't breathe.
Everything that was bad looked like peanuts, in relation to who was standing right there.
'You don't look very happy to see me, Suze,' he said. 'Why not? A lot of effort went into finding you . . . '
'Get the hell away from me,' I warned in something that couldn't constitute as a voice.
Again, I went to shove my hand in my pocket to retrieve Father Dom's keys, but he saw my movement and with one twice as fast as my own had been, he seized my wrist, and with his OTHER hand, shoved HIS hand in my pocket. Which, I may have failed to mention, was the back pocket.
This full-on pathetic whimper slipped out of me at the contact, and with a jangle of finality, he'd gotten the keys, and he'd thrown them. I didn't know where. I barely heard them land, so they were obviously no where close . . .
That, I believe, was when I started shaking, and couldn't stop.
'Come on, Suze,' he said, 'Don't be like that . . . come on, get out of the car. We're going home.'
His voice was so raspy, just like I remembered it. I couldn't BELIEVE that I'd found that attractive once. That was BEFORE I'd heard that voice at full volume in my ears, calling me horrible things.
'No,' I said, 'We're not. WE aren't going ANYWHERE. There is no "we" here.'
I don't think he really liked that very much.
You see, because, his face sort of contorted there, and two arms quickly came at me, clamping two hands around my shoulders, and yanking me out of the car. I started trying to push him away, but he shoved me VERY hard against the side of the car, and pressed up against me. No, right up.
God, Suze, breathe - please, just breathe -
Funny how Jesse was worried what would try to hurt me inside the school.
He didn't spare a thought to what might try to hurt me from outside.
'I knew you'd be this way,' he laughed angrily. No really. It was like he couldn't decide whether he was angry or humored. Which lead me to believe that he was even sicker in the head than last time. His fingers were digging into the skin of my shoulders.
I went very still, feeling him breathe in my ear. Oh God, oh God . . .
'So, what are you doing here?' he asked, as if we'd slipped into conversation mode.
'W-working,' I managed. 'I-I work here.'
He laughed. 'As what? Crack whore?' His laugh made me shiver even more.
Every possibility of being confident and vengeful and angry slipped away grotesquely, like blood trickling down a window. I was not myself with Cole. I was not myself BECAUSE of Cole.
I sucked in a breath, and turned my head away. His fingers came and twisted my face so that I was looking at him again. His hands were so rough . . .
They then pushed my hair back behind my ears, and slid down my arms slowly.
'Cole,' I tried to scare him, 'I work with people here . . . they – they know about you – '
'What's there to know?' he asked, his hands continuing down to my hips, where they stretched out to their full handspan. I felt his fingers pressed into my skin again. I was still trapped between him and Father Dominic's car, and I was scared out of my mind.
Because if he got me in his car, I knew that that was it. I was a goner.
'That – ' my voice was thin, 'that you're . . . not very nice . . .'
His voice dipped very low. 'They don't know the half of it then, do they?' he murmured with a smile.
He leaned his face in even more. His nose was almost touching mine. His breath was hot. And he hadn't brushed his teeth in a while. 'Suze,' he said reproachfully, 'I come all this way for you, and you don't even appreciate it? You're out here having fun, getting in the newspaper with that supermodel, Danielle-something, and you just left me. I don't think you get it, Suze. I need you. I'll die without you . . . you need me too. You love me, you're just being stubborn – '
The NEWSPAPER? My GOD. THAT'S how he found out I was here? God, I'm going to KILL that Steve Lawson guy. Who the HELL TAKES PHOTOS OF INNOCENT PEOPLE AND PUTS THEM IN NEWSPAPERS? I mean, Dani's one thing. But I WAS ACTUALLY HIDING FROM SOMEONE. I get that DANI was a BITCH to that STEVE guy from MCDONALDS, and so YEAH, SHE GOT IN A NEWSPAPER BECAUSE SHE'S FAMOUS.
But did said newspaper care that I was trying to run away from a certain GUY who wanted pretty much only ONE thing from me, and was going to HURT me if he didn't get it?
NO. THEY DIDN'T CARE.
'For the last frigging time,' I spat, 'I do not love you, okay? Cole, you're – you need help. You're being obsessive over this. We had a thing, and I ended it – ' because you tried to – and I didn't want to so you went and got your kicks from someone ELSE'S ass – and that was that. I don't love you, you don't love me, now can you PLEASE get your hands off of me? Because this is just – '
I don't think he liked THAT very much, either.
His hands left my hips, all right. But they came right back up to my shoulders, which they grabbed firmly. Then, he yanked me forward and right back up against the side of the car. I almost peed myself. No, I know it's gross, but – it was just sudden and I was scared and he hurt me –
'LIAR,' he yelled in my face, 'You keep SAYING that, but you're LYING – '
'I've said it enough; you think it would have sunk in by now!' I shouted right back at him. 'Cole, I swear to GOD, if you don't get your hands OFF of me, you are going to be so sorry – '
I knew the one thing he wanted.
Sex.
It's what a guy like him would want. It's what a guy like him always got. I mean, he was hot. He was a player. He's the type to call up a prostitute for a night, to have a good time. He's not the type to be rejected.
He made an effort with me. We went out for three months, and when he did try, and I said no, he went crazy.
After that, I kept saying no. I said no all together, and broke up with him. He went and got laid elsewhere, but – but that still didn't change the fact that I'd gotten away.
Whenever he saw me after that, he hurt me. He'd get me alone, and he'd try to . . . but I wouldn't let h - and he'd always hurt me.
But now, so long after that, he was insane . . . I didn't know why. I mean, obsessive about sex? Yeah. Though I had no idea that that could make someone so VIOLENT. I mean, God, I'm seriously not worth someone's sanity. I'm not. But he wasn't only obsessed with it anymore. He was obsessed with me. Because I was probably the only person to refuse him and it made him nuts.
Sick.
What you can't have, you can't resist.
I dunno. I think that was one of the teaser lines for a movie I saw a long time ago.
((A/N: Lolly – if you know which one, shut up, hahaha . . . I just watched it.))
Knowing that didn't make his dusty eyes any warmer. It sure didn't make the hold he had on my shoulders any gentler. If anything, it made me more terrified, because even though I didn't know how truly psycho he was, if he had enough resolve to come out here, then he sure as hell had a good reason for it, and I doubted that he'd give up easily after what he'd obviously been through to find me here.
It was devastating.
'If you don't get in my fucking car,' he threatened, his mouth against my ear and his body crushing mine, 'You're going to be sorry.'
A crescendo of fear made me snap. I rammed him backwards, and with that, I ran so damn fast, away from him. I was back in the school grounds, running up the stairs – at the door . . .
I looked back. He was so close behind me that for the second time, my bladder almost died. My stomach was dead, and I felt sick with the fright that had stricken me.
God . . . I couldn't BELIEVE this . . . after EVERYTHING that had HAPPENED, how could Cole have the NERVE to show up? Dani, the Misforts, PAUL, Jesse, Father DOMINIC – it wasn't – this was HAPPENING, I mean, how could it be? It's just not believable. This many things can't happen to someone in sequence. It wasn't –
It was.
Welcome to my life.
I made it through the front door, tearing up the stairs. There were too many rooms in this school . . . he'd never find me.
Well, at least he wouldn't if I'd actually gotten a decent head start. Unfortunately, he was merely only about twenty feet behind me.
Once on the second floor, I sped at lightning speed down the dark hall, and then dived into the first room that had an open door. I shut it behind me, and saw that it was just a dormitory room.
WITH A WARDROBE.
I ran in there, I yanked the door closed, and then attempted to slow my breathing.
Don't panic . . . it's a huge school . . . he won't find you . . . you'll always be able to hide, Suze.
It's a huge WORLD, but he managed to locate you in little GILROY. I think he can manage to find you in an armoire, you LOSER.
I clapped my hand over my mouth, and jammed my eyes shut. My heart was going so fast it didn't seem human. I could hear my blood echoing in my ears. Every pounding of it through my veins was painful and thunderous. There was a pressure in my head that made me want to scream, and cry, and run till he couldn't chase me anymore.
But I was stuck, waiting for him to not find me . . .
I could hear his voice calling me. Coaxing me. Cajoling me. Convincing me that if I came out, I'd be fiiiiiiiine.
Uh, beg to DIFFER?
When I heard a bang, I knew he'd kicked the door open. It was all I could do not to gasp, or breathe any harder than I already was.
I could only see him through the crack that was left in the wardrobe doors. He'd flashed across it, his hands in the pockets of his khaki Chinos. From afar, he looked harmless. But I knew better.
He walked out of my crack-y vision, and I bit on my finger to stop any noises.
Excuse ME if I was expecting him to come right up to the wardrobe crack and be all, " 'Ello, poppit . . . "
Good GOD.
'So Suze,' he said boredly, 'You like games? What is this, hide and seek now? Isn't that what we've been playing for several months?'
On the word "months" I heard another crash – a collision of his foot, and something wooden.
Then after that, nothing.
For a moment, I thought he was gone. For that terrifying moment, I thought, with a fleeting hope and relief, that he'd left the room. I mean, there was complete silence and all.
But when the doors of the wardrobe were yanked open, said hope was murdered ruthlessly.
'Game's over,' he smirked. 'I win.'
Once again his hands closed over my upper arms as he pulled me out of the stupid wardrobe, before kicking it closed and shoving me against it, hard.
'All this is your fault,' he assured me, 'If you hadn't run away . . . if you didn't keep saying that you didn't love me, Suze, when I know you do . . . if you didn't keep saying no to me . . . '
'You son of a – '
He pushed me to the ground, and I fell down along with the weight of my returned fear. I was back where I'd started. This whole run-away-back-to-Carmel-and-get-a-job thing had been all for nothing. Nothing had changed. I'd been kidding myself, telling myself that I was stronger now, and that I could face him if he ever showed up again.
But I was so, so wrong.
I was nothing.
And he was just reinforcing that, you know? Making sure I reeeeeeeally grasped the concept.
'Get up,' he spat. 'You bitch. We're leaving now. It's home time.'
'No - ' I looked up at him with such acid, that even I felt the sting, 'If you think I'm going ANYWHERE with a loser like you, you are more screwed up than I thought - '
He kicked me.
No, he really did. In the stomach. Like, not gently or anything.
Yeah, Cole? Obviously quite the athlete. Probably on the soccer team.
A twisted yelp of pain wheezed out of me.
And this was the true Susannah Simon.
A coward. A whore. A pathetic loser. Someone so helpless that she couldn't even build up the courage to even TRY to run . . .
I didn't cry though.
That was probably the only thing I was proud of then. I didn't cry.
Again, he pulled me up, dragged me so I was right in front of his face. 'Who's the loser now, Suze?'
And this was a guy who thought I loved him. My God . . .
He really badly needed psychiatric attention. No, serious. He was . . . unstable. Really.
Shaking violently, I bit back my reply.
I couldn't honestly believe that I had deluded myself to think that things would be better just because I was away from him.
I knew that he'd find me. I just didn't WANT to know.
And all of a sudden, I was really regretting not taking Paul's advice and reporting him. Because Cole was in the state of mind to cause a girl like me some serious damage.
He was right. He was so right.
I was the loser.
I was always the loser. I lost everything. I lost to Paul . . . I lost to Cole. I lost my purity, I lost my dignity, I lost my self-reliance, and I would keep on losing myself till there was nothing left of me worth losing.
Cole would keep tearing pieces away from me that he could never give back.
Just like Paul had.
Come on, Suze . . . just get AWAY from him . . . just TRY . . . remember when you fought Paul that time? What did you do? You were all with the kicking, Simon. The punching. The winning. Defending yourself. You were scared of him, but still, you could have WON that fight.
. . . Paul was going easy on me though -
GOD DAMN IT, SIMON, FIGHT.
I had to stop running. I had to start facing.
No more flight.
. . . Fight.
And so, with all the fury and energy I could summon, I punched him as hard as I could to his jaw.
'WHAT THE F - '
He hadn't been expecting that. He thought his bitch was useless?
His bitch was stronger than she frigging LOOKED.
I twisted around, stamped hard on his foot, and elbowed him hard in his stomach. Then I shoved him away, and -
OKAY, SO THE FIGHT THING HAD GONE WELL. NOW IT WAS TIME FOR FLIGHT, OKAY?
That kung-fu-wannabe-ness had bought me time. A little, but hopefully enough -
I tore out of that room like my ass was on fire. Come on, go outside, find the keys he threw, get in the car, drive away . . . get help, find Paul - just for now, RUN . . .
However, I made it almost to the stairs, when I made the mistake of looking back.
. . . Seeing Cole at the doorway of the room I'd just fled from.
Well, that was okay. I mean, if I kept running, I'd DEFINITELY have a kick ass head start, and as long as The Finding of The Keys went well, I'd be out of harms way.
That is, of course, unless, due to looking back over your shoulder, you are not looking ahead enough to realize that you had just run into the hands of a REAL murderer.
Aka, Robin Lawrence.
'Well, well,' he grinned down at me, his arms suddenly going taut around me as I tried to dodge him, 'Looks like Susie's in a bit of trouble.'
Oh, no . . . no way, they would NOT ruin this -
'Please,' I said quickly, 'You have no idea what you're doing - that guy's - please, don't - '
Come on . . . just a TINY moment of ghostly alliance would ROCK this establishment.
Please, Robin. Please, oh God, please, let me keep running . . . stop him from following me . . . please, help me . . . please -
'Let me go - ' I freaked, flipping madly in his arms, but they only constricted tighter as he laughed. Malice.
Cole had caught up, by then.
At which point, Robin pushed me back, right into a very intrigued Cole.
'NO!' I yelled at him, 'I can't BELIEVE you - you - you SUCK - '
Cole spun me around harshly. 'What the fuck are you on, Suze?'
'Get AWAY from me - ' my voice was still high pitched.
'Hopefully this'll be an effective way of getting you out of our school,' Robin called after me. 'Goodbye, Susie.'
I couldn't believe that someone could be so perfectly cruel. There I was, in the presence of an insane psychopath, and a sadistic sociopath. I mean, Cole was sick in the head. But Robin knew exactly what he'd just done, and exactly what his action was probably going to lead to.
Suddenly, it wasn't just Cole that was going to insure that I left this school with him.
Three quarters of the Misforts were, too.
Cole's arms wrapped around me, and he proceeded to try and DRAG me along - I am so serious - but with a quick twist of my head to the right, I saw a bedroom, with a window. I mean, okay yeah, almost all of the rooms had windows, but this one was one I was going to BREAK and I was going to get OUT of. Because it was only second floor. I mean, I've jumped from many stories into a pool before.
. . . Marcus Beaumont, whacked real estate agent. Sixteen years old, fire in building.
Go figure.
Two stories was NOT far.
Considering.
I bolted to said window, and with a panic that was like an entity in itself, I tried desperately to pull it open. Or smash it ala shifter power.
. . . But I couldn't.
'Open, OPEN damn it!' I begged the glass in front of me, but I don't think that windows are infamous for their responses to terrified girls who are trying to flee their attackers.
I didn't even have anything to break the window with. I mean, ever since I found myself competing with the ever-fashionable Dani Moore, I hadn't bothered pulling out my stilettos or my sassy black boots. And even after she died- no, was MURDERED- I couldn't bring myself to wear them.
I have no foresight whatsoever. I'm a complete and total failure.
The door slamming behind me indicated that I'd failed, miserably.
And that there was nothing left to do.
In a gaunt, mind-crushing horror, I turned slowly. Reasoning was wasted on him. Ditto logic, ditto pleading. Violence was useless against him, ditto crying, ditto insulting.
And he just hated it when I denied loving him.
Even when I knew so thoroughly that I didn't. How could I love a monster like THAT?
You just DON'T. Not after he's hurt you that much.
Physically, I mean. Well, Cole had done more damage to me mentally and emotionally, but that's a layer of me that needs no discussion. Right now, I was more worried about my physical self.
Because that door wasn't going to open anytime soon.
My horror was etched deeper into my veins when I saw that his eyes weren't on me, but on the bed beside me. There was a dark, cold suggestion in his gaze. A tiny disbelieving kind of smirk twisted his lips upward, and his eyes narrowed. It was as if he'd been waiting a while for this moment.
. . . No, no, no, no WAY.
I wasn't even hiding this time. What was the point? He'd find me. He'd searched the country for me. He'd always find me. Fears are meant to be faced, not fled from.
I wish that there was an exception to that rule that would allow a tiny loophole, in the circumstance of the "fear" being Cole Kennedy.
I mean, I wasn't facing him, now. I was giving up. This was it. I couldn't run anymore. I was stuck.
'I've missed you so much, Suze,' he said, in a tone that no longer held that murderous quality. SEE? He's BI-POLAR! His mood had once again changed. He wasn't right. I mean, it doesn't take a psyche major to see that.
But he was REALLY wrong.
His gaze was still on the bed that I was next to. He was leering at it, looking with a dark appeal in his eyes. I knew what was in store for me on that bed, but I didn't want it to be true. I didn't want this to be real.
Suze, please, PLEASE stop shaking . . .
'Don't you even THINK about it . . .' I spat at him, paralyzed with disgust and dread.
'I can't help it,' he shrugged. He took a small step forward. 'It's all I've been thinking about. Since you left . . . '
"It."
WHY did all the guys call it "it"? Why can't they just say the damn word, and give it it's proper name? Let's all say "it" together, folks-
Sex. One more time, for the kiddies at home…SEX.
He went on, tossing his head in order to get the stray, dirty blond strands out of his eyes, 'I've missed your touch, Suze. The way you used to kiss. The way you used to sigh when I kissed y – '
'Shut UP!' I screamed shrilly at him, 'Just STOP it! None of that means anything, because you BLEW it – '
He moved closer again, menacingly. Like a cheetah after a gazelle or something. No matter how fast you are, you can't run from a cheetah. 'Don't tell me to shut up, you bitch,' he growled.
'I'm NOT a b – ' I proclaimed, stamping my foot, but he completely closed the distance between the pair of us, and again went with the grabbing-of-Susie, shaking me up. Then, intrusively, he kissed me, hard.
It was disgusting. I mean, Cole's kiss used to have its appeal. Now it was gross and felt more like acid. It was like he was biting me. Or trying to.
I felt like a prisoner of war or something. Shackled and then tortured. And Cole was committing the grossest war crime ever.
I kind of collapsed into myself in my efforts to keep myself together. Don't cry, don't yell, stop shaking, run away, stop him before he does what you know he wants to do –
He started laughing. 'Stop fighting, baby . . . or I'll get mad.' I could hear and feel the threat in his voice. 'This can be as easy as you make it . . . '
With that, he promptly fell on top of me on the bed.
And I freaked.
'DON'T!' I screamed, 'Cole, PLEASE, don't – '
'You're making it worse for yourself, Suze – ' his face floated above mine, with a deadly smirk on his face. His eyes were flashing with sexual intention, and once again, I couldn't find the courage to defend myself.
So instead, I spat up at him.
It worked pretty well. I mean, gravitationally, it did. It didn't come falling back on my face. It completely stuck to the bit of skin just next to the bridge of his nose.
Methodically . . . it was kind of a no-no.
He looked shocked that I'd dared to pelt my saliva at him. Then, his face twisted. He wiped it off with the back of his hand, and sat up a little. 'You dirty slut,' he chided.
And then, with the power of every single one of my phobias, I saw his hand go up.
Unlike Paul's that day . . . it did not stop.
My face seared with a scorching violence. After so long, I'd hoped to forget what Cole's brutal hand on my felt like. But with a rush of the screaming dead, I'd suddenly been reminded.
YAY.
A piercing, sharp, short shriek escaped me.
He covered my mouth furiously.
'The only screaming I want to hear from you is you screaming for more.'
My eyes widened. I was looking upon the face of fear. I had the nerve to spit on evil's nose. Sex was floating in the atmosphere, welcoming death as the next guest of this horrible, frightening reunion.
No, no, no . . . this was so wrong . . .
I kept trying to shove him away. Constantly. He kept blocking me, and pushing me back down. My breath was going a million miles an hour from the energy exertion. His hand was on my mouth. I was practically bucking for him to get off of me, which may have looked very odd to anyone watching. But I was that desperate to throw him off.
In complete fear and desperation, I bit his hand.
'OW!' he barked, withdrawing his hand hastily.
I could taste his blood. It was almost acidic, and most definitely cold. I spat it back out once it penetrated my mouth.
I took that opportunity to scream long and loud. Please, SOMEONE be back . . . Paul! HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO LOOK AT AN AUTOPSY REPORT? God, PLEASE . . .
I had a terrible feeling I would never find out. Chances were that my body would, though.
'Hey!' Cole hissed, as abuse number two for today fell hard on my cheek. I recoiled sharply, shuddering from the painful fear, and the desperate denial that this wasn't actually happening. 'What did I say about screaming, Suze?
His hands held my shoulders down. 'See, Suze?' he went on. 'This is exactly what I mean. You always do things wrong. And then you have the nerve to blame me. Like saying that I don't MEAN anything. It's hurtful, you know? I think you're being kind of selfish - '
'You are KIDDING me,' I said in stricken incredulity. WHERE DID HE GET OFF? 'You know what ELSE is hurtful? When you start hitting m – '
'I'm not hitting you anymore, am I?' he hissed.
For a moment, I almost let out a sigh of relief.
However, when his hands came to the belt buckle of my jeans and started hastily undoing them, I froze up entirely . . .
'NO!' I freaked, 'DON'T YOU DARE. DON'T YOU - '
'Stop SCREAMING!' he yelled at me, 'God!'
'GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!'
However, with my jeans still on, he shoved his hand against - uhhhh . . . I don't really want to say.
I seized up, and screwed up my face. This definitely wasn't feeling good, coming from Cole. I felt violated, scared, rung-out, and worst of all hurt.
'That shut you up,' he commented callously. He started moving his hand . . . um - his palm against -
YOU KNOW WHAT? IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.
Suffice it to say I was scared, scared, so damn scared . . . I stopped trying to call for help. I just kept shaking helplessly.
I couldn't move. My mind stopped thinking. He was - this was really bad. He was touching me. And this was only the BEGINNING of how far I knew he'd go.
All that was going through my mind there was, Thank GOD I'm not wearing a skirt.
He leant down, still . . . doing that . . . and he kissed me roughly. I so did not respond. I mean, you just DON'T. It's impossible to reciprocate someone's kiss when they are doing this to you and you don't want them to be doing it.
His hand pressed harder against the fabric of my jeans, on that spot where hands REALLY should not be, and I sucked in a breathy sob. This was so, so bad . . .
And in the grand scheme of things, it WAS my fault.
The life-thieving dread that was rendering me completely powerless escalated to a point where again, I just couldn't breathe. The confusion of unwanted pleasure was killing me. I mean, there's such a thing as feeling bad in a good way?
Well, this felt good in a BAD way. Because he should not have been doing that. It was like he was unwrapping a present that was not meant for him. I don't know exactly WHO it belonged to at the moment, but I did know that he was ripping through and carelessly flinging the shredded paper aside.
The shredded paper being me. My life. My tortured being.
I was scared out of my wits, because I knew what he wanted to do now.
However, it was when his fingers began to dip down the sides of my pants in an effort to pull them down, that I completely lost all control of my emotions.
And with a blaze of radiant blue, he was thrown against the wall brutally, bashing his head.
He landed hard on the floor, groaning and swearing under his breath.
. . . I did that. Despite the current threat, I was truly proud of myself for once.
With an almost tearful relief, I made my shaking hands do up my jeans. Hopefully that whole throwing-him-off-shifter-style thing would give me time - ?
However, it wasn't as effective as I had desired. He scrambled over, and yanked my ankle so I fell to the floor. A look of bloodlust shimmered in his eyes.
I guess that had only made him angrier.
'I don't know how the hell you - ' he began, but concluding that it was obviously my fault that he'd been propelled seven feet across the room - how he came to THAT conclusion without knowing what I was was beyond me - I received a blow to the side of my head that almost knocked me out completely.
I was wavering dangerously over the borderline of consciousness. Things suddenly slid in and out of focus, and went completely blurry as outlines kept blending with each other.
He was saying something to me, but I could no longer hear him properly. My head fell back, making me believe that I was no longer lying on the floor.
'We'll continue that later,' he promised me, his voice disturbingly close to my ear. The side of my head was soaring with pain. It was almost funny. I mean . . . how can something hurt like that?
No, really? Pain's so weird. It strikes in all ways. Physical, psychological, emotional . . . it leaves so many scars, and it aches so badly sometimes that death seems like an easy way out.
With what seemed like a blink, I knew that he'd made it outside. I could hear the wind, and the few birds that dared to sing on the Fortunaschweinian grounds. I kept bumping my head hard against Cole's shoulder as he walked. Not only had the punch taken everything out of me, but the shifter thing had too.
I searched inside my soul for something, anything left that would help me to fight back. I knew there was something still deep inside of me. Hope, maybe. Something, anything that could save me from this.
Just a tiny scrape of that power. That was all I needed. Anything, please . . . it had to be hiding somewhere. I couldn't just run out. I mean, there was no oppression of astral block. It was up to me if I wanted that power badly enough. I had to gather the effort to find, and employ it . . .
Suze, come on. This is your last chance. After this . . . you're done for. Simon, PLEASE.
I kept trying . . . one little spasm of power . . . that was all I -
I found it, and tapped into it.
And with that, I was suddenly lying in the dirt. I stayed like that for several seconds, before I rolled over on my back, and looked to the side blearily. Cole was slumped against his car. He wasn't conscious.
With a tiny smile, I closed my eyes again.
I did it . . .
For the first time . . . I finally saved myself from him.
I was still lying on the dusty ground when a car pulled up. For a zany second, I hoped that maybe I was still sitting in Father Dom's car, and that if it WAS Cole, I'd have the foresight to drive away immediately.
I heard the car door slam. However, this time, I knew it wasn't bringing any harm. I mean, it couldn't get WORSE than Cole.
This was the first time that I didn't jinx myself.
I cracked my eyes open again, and I saw Paul suddenly lean over me. 'Suze,' he said in panic. 'Suze? Can you hear me?'
'Hmm,' I nodded slowly.
'What happened?' he demanded. 'Where the HELL is de Silva? I'm gonna - '
You can't kill him. He's dead.
I shook my head, and closed my eyes again. 'It's not his fault. It wasn't the Misfortunates - '
'What do you MEAN, it wasn't his fault? I told him to WATCH YOU - ' I could hear anger intensifying in his voice, and it REALLY wasn't appreciated because my head was already on the verge of breaking.
'Shhhh,' I shushed.
He stopped, and helped me sit up. I didn't know why, but immediately, I slid my arms around his neck and hugged myself right against him. I started shaking again.
I'm so pathetic.
But . . . I still did it. On my own. I beat Cole Kennedy. I was able to overcome one of my biggest fears
'Suze,' Paul said more urgently, 'Please tell me what's going on.'
'Cole,' I said. 'He's behind you.'
Paul tensed, and twisted his head. Then he went very, very silent.
'Paul,' I said suddenly, 'Don't . . . don't do anything stupid, please, he's already - '
'What did he do?' Paul looked back at me. In his eyes, I saw a fire that made the iciness melt away like nothing. 'God, if he t - '
'He tried,' I said quickly, 'He didn't - '
Paul made an effort to move, but I held onto him, 'Paul, please - '
'I'll kill him,' he guaranteed.
Not a moment too late, Cole stirred, and started swearing quietly again, holding his head. Then he looked up, saw me in Paul's arms, and his eyes narrowed.
'Who the HELL is THAT, Suze?' he demanded fiercely. 'He was in that damned newspaper with you. Are you - '
Paul stood up quickly, and moved in front of me. 'So you're Cole Kennedy,' he said slowly. His voice was just plain deadly.
I edged back, till I was near Father Dominic's car. My hands landed on something cold and metal - the keys. I stuffed them back in my pocket, and with a head heavier than Earth, I leant against the car as I stood up.
'Suze, we're leaving,' he said, ignoring Paul. He gave him a wary look, but peered around at me.
'I don't think you realize,' Paul drawled, 'I am well aware of the situation between Ms. Simon and yourself. And she has made it perfectly clear to me that she does not want to go anywhere with you.'
Cole's gaze flickered between Paul and me. 'You're fucking him, aren't you?' he snapped at me. 'You stupid wh - '
And the first punch flew.
I flinched as Paul's fist smashed against Cole's nose. Paul, of course, had the upper hand. He was a lot quicker, a lot stronger, and did not have a possible concussion. Of course, Cole went psycho. He started trying to beat the crap out of Paul, too.
Although, as I said, Paul wasn't a wimp like me, when faced with Cole Kennedy.
But this was not cool.
Paul caught him in a hard punch to the stomach. Cole groaned, shoved Paul back, and then bashed his shoulder against him. Paul stumbled, and Cole landed on top of him, and started punching him. Paul kneed him, rolled them over, and started punching HIM.
The thing was . . . Cole may have been kind of insane while he was angry. But Paul was angry in his RIGHT mind. Which, you know, served to be a lot more effective in this situation.
'DONT - YOU - GO - NEAR - HER - AGAIN,' Paul pounded on his face with each word. He grabbed Cole's collar, and yanked him up, before slamming him back on the ground. Cole's hands shot up around Paul's neck, with his fingers digging into his skin.
My hands were getting slick with sweat, they were pressed so hard against the metal exterior of Father D's car. I felt too weak to help, too angry to run away.
'She's not the first one, is she?' Paul spat at him. 'I read up on you. You've been tried for harassment before. You got off. Well, KENNEDY, you're sure as hell not GETTING OFF this time. Because you've PISSED ME OFF, and I'm not going to stop until you're where you belong. In jail. Or in a bodybag, whichever comes first - '
'You can HAVE the little slut,' Cole retorted, pushing at Paul in a violent fury.
That earned him - Cole, I mean - a very, VERY livid punch from Paul.
'Get off of me, you fucker!' Cole yelled.
'That's what I keep asking you,' I contributed, 'But you didn't listen.'
'Oh, shut UP Suze!' he snapped rudely.
Paul got off of him, and, dragging him up by the scruff of his shirt again, he slammed him against the black piping of the gate behind. Paul started saying things to Cole under his breath that I couldn't hear. They were both infuriating him, and making a look of alarm come to his face.
I couldn't understand what Paul was telling him.
'I didn't, I swear - ' Cole spluttered suddenly, but Paul shoved him back again, 'SHE SAID YOU DID. SHE WAS ALMOST UNCONSCIOUS WHEN I FOUND HER. Now I'll ask AGAIN, DID YOU HIT HER?'
'Okay!' Cole glared in both hate and panic.
'What else?' Paul roared in his face.
'Paul, stop it,' I said hysterically, 'It doesn't matter - '
'Did you touch her?'
'N - '
Paul, AGAIN, jerked him forward and then back, hard, against the bars. 'Ow-ow-ow-ow! YES, all right? But she was asking f - '
Paul laughed coldly, sucker-punched him in the stomach, and dragged him away from the gate.
'You fucking jack ass,' Paul said. 'Suze? Do you remember asking for anything from him?'
I shook my head quickly. The only thing I asked was for Cole to get out of my life. For good. And I think that this wish was coming true, right before my eyes.
'My point exactly,' Paul said. He pulled out his phone, and dialed three numbers. He spoke swiftly into the receiver, and then clicked it shut.
'Call the cops on me?' Cole laughed angrily, 'That won't make a difference. You can't prove anything.'
Paul's glower went a million and one shades darker. 'Listen, you bastard. By the time I'm through with you you're going to regret the day you SAW Suze. Courts take attempted rape and assault VERY seriously, in case you didn't remember that when you were smacking her face.'
Cole blanched. Then he turned his face back towards me. 'You stupid ho . . . who the HELL do you think you are, telling HIM-'
'She's worth more than everything you own times 100,' Paul yanked his head back brusquely, making a stream of colourful words spill from Cole's lips. 'But then again, I doubt that's saying much,' Paul regarded Cole's appearance in disgust. 'You're not even CLOSE to being good enough for her.'
I went a horrible red color. I had never felt so valuable in my life. I felt like a prize, a privilege. Maybe even an honor.
'And you are?' Cole laughed derisively.
Paul didn't respond.
Cole made another attempt to flip away from Paul, but said intern had a very firm grip on the back of his neck.
'Stay still or I'll brake it,' Paul menaced.
Um . . . okay. Protective, isn't he?
Within a few minutes, I heard a siren, and four police cars pulled into the gravel driveway. About eight cops filed out and pointed guns at Paul.
'No,' I said quickly, 'Not him - '
Cole was white. As he was guided abruptly to one of the cars, he shot me a look of hateful rage. I almost broke down crying.
But I didn't. I was a hell of a lot stronger than that. If I could defeat Cole, I could do anything.
Paul came to my side, and slid his arms around me. 'It's okay,' he rubbed my back soothingly. 'He's not going to hurt you anymore.'
So I stick you for one night and suddenly you love me . . . ?
I remembered what he'd said the day before. But it didn't matter, then. Not now. Right now, his hold felt too comforting to care.
Even if this was sympathy because I'd just gotten practically attacked by a sexual predator, (eww . . . ) I didn't care.
I sighed, and hugged him back, my face in his chest. 'I'm sorry,' I said.
'Why are you saying sorry?' he pulled away.
'Because it's my fault - '
'It is NOT your fault,' he stressed. 'Okay? It's HIM. It's not you. You have nothing be sorry for, Suze.'
Vaguely, I nodded. 'Oh,' I said.
'Are you ready, then?' Paul asked.
I blinked quickly. 'What?'
'To make a statement,' he told me. 'Press charges. His arrest is meaningless unless they have a reason to arrest him.'
Statement . . . ?
'No - '
'Don't be scared of him, Suze.'
'I'm not,' I said.
'Liar,' Paul smiled in a fond, yet sad way. 'But God help us all if Susannah Simon admits that she's human.'
I closed my eyes again. His hands were gentle on my arms. Not rough, and aggressive like Cole's. They didn't want to hurt me. They wanted to save me.
He had saved me.
. . . And I'd saved myself, too. And I had an opportunity to make sure this never happened ever again. Not to me, or any other girl Cole would encounter in the future. I was saving lives, too.
Which was majorly cool.
'Okay,' I breathed.
The police guy - one of the ones that had been there after Dani's death, raised his eyebrow at me and Paul. 'Coming?' he queried.
'Yeah,' Paul nodded officially. 'Come on, Suze.'
- 8 -