A.N - Hey guys, I'm sorry for the slight delay in posting, and I'm sorry in advance for the lack of Jesse/Suze-ness. Next chapter, promise.

xD

Chapter Six

An extremely irate Paul Slater.

Who, thankfully, didn't recognise me from underneath the brim of my wide hat.

"Just what do you think you're doing, boy?" he hissed. "And with my girlfriend?"

Susannah, for her part, looked like she was almost scared and it was with a touch of astonishment that I realised that she was scared for me. Her eyes were wide and glistening with unshed tears. I closed my eyes at the sight; I couldn't afford to lose sight of the main problem here; That problem being Paul Slater and his complete lack of knowledge as to how a lady like Susannah should be treated.

"Just thanking the pretty lady," I spoke in a - what in my mind was, at least - croaky voice, to help hide my identity. "Paying my due."

I slapped an appealing amount of money on the bar that separated us and Paul eyed it greedily, slowly letting go of the wrist he'd grabbed. I rubbed the burning spot unconsciously whilst focusing on Susannah, gauging her reaction.

Susannah looked furious but that anger was directed at Paul, not myself. And, whilst he deserved every ounce of her anger, it wasn't exactly Susannah's best idea, considering how temperamental he could get.

"Ah, well then," Paul pushed aside his anger, instead regarding me still with a somewhat dreamy expression. I remained still on my barstool, my back hunched over. "I expect that I can be lenient, but for this time only. Again, and I will not hesitant to force you to leave this place."

I regarded him coolly, before nodding and looking away. It was amazing what such a thing as money could do to a man. At least to a greedy one like Paul.

Unfortunately, Susannah had now finally picked up on just how materialistic her beau could be, and I despised myself for being the one that had opened her eyes to his behaviour.

She approached him silently, her dainty feet making no sound upon the dusty floor on which she stood. Tapping him lightly upon his shoulder, she waited for him to turn and face her before she raised her hand and slapped Paul across the face putting, judging by the red handprint that remained imprinted upon his cheek, a lot of force behind it.

I winced silently, waiting for the man to react. My breath caught in my throat as Susannah realised what she'd done and started to waver slightly, her fear leaking into her eyes even whilst she stood her ground firmly.

"You do not get to treat me like this, Paul Slater." She hissed. Susannah had always gone against the times we lived in. You couldn't expect her to stand silently and look pretty, like was expected from women and she most certainly wouldn't live for the attention she received - that was Maria's domain. "It was your decision - all of this was your decision. This saloon, the cathouse! Everything. Diego is more honest than you are - you're a crook!"

Shocked as I was to hear this, I didn't let Paul - who was still standing dangerously close to me - catch on to who I was by reacting.

Whatever I'd expected Paul to do didn't happen. Instead, he remained silent, his jaw clenched in anger as he regarded the beautiful Susannah Simon. The only woman to have hit him, ever. Or stand up to him either, to think about it.

Susannah saw his silence as an opportunity and carried on talking into the now silent saloon. Every patron, drunkard and respectable gentleman present had frozen as they witnessed this event unfold.

I slowly let out a long breath to try and calm myself - which was no easy feat.

"You made me work here Paul," she continued bravely, invoking a small smile of pride from myself. "A bar full of men. It was only a matter of time before one of them tried to start something."

I straightened minutely, ready to fight if needs be, though really preferring not to.

"And don't think I don't know what it is you do whilst you're here. You're always at that cathouse with your whore Maria de Silva."

It was then that Paul struck, backhanding Susannah hard enough to cause her to stumble and fall to the floor, her red cheek encased in her hand as she looked on in shock.

I couldn't hear her words, which were too soft to be heard amid the gradual rise in conversation about the fact that Maria De Silva was working here, but I could read her lips perfectly.

She spoke just one word.

"Jesse."

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My mother had raised me a gentleman, and my sisters as young ladies, so it wasn't like, after hearing her plea for help, I could sit there and do nothing.

Instead, I stood up, maintained my appearance of a hunched back, and tapped Paul's shoulder, dragging his attention away from Susannah and onto myself. The look in his eyes was positively murderous and I was glad to have all of that hate focused on me, instead of my querida.

"What do you want?" He grunted.

I realised, at this point, that I should throw off my disguise and reveal my identity, arresting Paul for abuse, as well as owning the cathouse, which had been confirmed now by everyone present. But I couldn't. Not with Susannah sat on the floor, eyes glassy with tears staining her beautiful cheeks.

"I just think it would be best if I was to take the girl off of your hands," I croaked out diplomatically.

"You, sir," Paul snapped at me as he spat out the formal word with distaste, "must be mad. She's mine. No one leaves with her but me."

Feeling my ire rise, I clenched my fists.

"I feel that it would be better for her safety if-"

"Listen, I decide what would be best for her safety, alright?" Paul turned his back on Susannah completely, ignoring her tears as he focused on me. "She leaves with me."

And he raised his fist towards my face threateningly.

Not being a violent person, I considered just stepping back and leaving Susannah with Paul. A thought which lasted all of a second before I completely disregarded it and instead ended up kicking myself.

"No."

My voice rang clear in the saloon and Paul paused for a second, feeling that my voice should be familiar, but he couldn't remember how.

"You're so tough then, fight me." Paul was just itching for violence.

I was tempted - oh, how I was tempted. I wanted to knock him out and take Susannah away so she would never have to see him again.

"No." I repeated.

"Oh, come on." He taunted me. "You can dish it but you can't take it?"

Not exactly.

I turned my back on him and began to walk away, hoping he'd take the bait.

"Hey," he shouted. "You!"

As I felt his hand clamp down on my shoulder I smiled victoriously. I felt myself pulled backwards as a fist came sailing through the air towards me and I caught it swiftly.

"I can't start a fight," I told him, blocking the punch he threw with his other hand. "But I can defend myself."

Then I threw a punch that knocked him unconscious, and kicked him in the ribs for good measure, before leaping over the wooden bar and cradling Susannah in my arms.

She gratefully rested her head against my chest as I stood up to my full height and strode out of the bar stubbornly, glancing at each person in the room from under my hat, warning them not to say a word.

Susannah was my priority now, and I would make sure that she felt the love and comfort she so richly deserved, even if I had to die trying.