Sorry for the delay! I couldn't get an internet connection! Thank you everyone who's still reading. Your comments keep me going! ---MAC :)

Chapter 13

"We have to go," Cooper says, as we reach the landing. He's tugging on me, leading me to the door. But… I can't go. Not right now. Not like this. I'm wearing pink Superman pajamas!

"No! Cooper, stop! What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you about it on the way," he says, without looking at me.

"Is someone upstairs?" I ask. Although I assume there's not. Someone upstairs, I mean. I'd have heard a fight. Cooper had a bat, and he looked ready to use it! So I know there was a fire, and I assume there was not a person. Besides… who would go into a room and then set it on fire? If that's what happened. I mean… I heard a bang and saw a flame. A single – albeit large – flame.

"No," Cooper confirms for me. "But we have to leave. He's outside somewhere."

"So you want to head outside? Knowing he's out there somewhere?"

He doesn't seem to be listening to me. So I wave my hand in his face.

"Cooper. Come in, Cooper."

"If you'd been in your room…" he says, trailing off.

He still hasn't looked at me. He's holding my hand, moving toward the door more slowly now, and seems to be in some kind of trance.

Or nightmare.

"Coop, what was it?" I ask, my voice a mere whisper.

He looks at me. His eyes… they look haunted.

"It looks like he broke the window with a brick, and then shot an enflamed bow-and-arrow through it," he says.

"An enflamed bow-and-arrow? Who does that?" I ask, incredulously. I mean, seriously. How dramatic!

"A sick person," he says quietly, shaking his head. He tugs on my hand once more. "My car is right outside. We can't stay here. We'll call Barrett on the way."

"But—"

"—here," he says, throwing a pair of my sneakers at my feet, which he must have grabbed when he was in my room just now. "Put these on. We've got to go."

"I cannot go outside like this, Coop. Once again," I say, pointing to myself. "Wearing Superman pajamas!"

"Heather, we have to go!"

I groan, as he pulls me towards his room. He still has the bat in his other hand. He lets go of my hand, runs to his bureau and grabs his keys. He runs back toward me and pulls me outside.

I don't see his car anywhere. He just holds my hand tightly and runs. He seems to know where it is. His car, I mean. I can't keep up with him; I feel like I'm going to fall. But his grip is so tight. He's not letting go and he's not slowing down. I eventually see the car, parked a few streets away.

The minute we get into the car, he speeds off. My legs shake and my heart feels like it's fallen to my stomach. I feel a chill run up my spine.

I look at Cooper when I've calmed down a little and see something shocking. He's… not clenching his jaw. No, seriously. I mean, he looks mad. But there's not jaw-clenching! His expression is distant. I look at his hands and see that he's squeezing the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles are white.

I reach out and touch his right hand and he jumps, as if just noticing my presence in the car.

"Coop, what's wrong?" I ask, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

"I'm messing up. That's what's wrong," he says curtly.

"What do you mean?" I ask him. "We got away just fine," I explain. "You might even say we got away too quickly," I add, glancing down at my pajamas. "And no one appears to be following us."

I check the side mirror, just to be on the safe side. Cooper, too, glances quickly in the rearview mirror, and then fixes his eyes on the road again, releasing a long breath.

"Do you have any idea what kind of danger you're in?" he eventually asks.

"Well, between the letters, the phone call, the doctored photo, the brick, the fire and the dead guy… yeah, I have some idea," I say.

He shakes his head slowly, that same haunted, tortured look covering his expression. "Everything else was a threat or a warning, Heather. This… this was an attempt on your life." His voice falters – just a bit – on the last word. And I'm touched.

"Cooper—"

"—and on a normal morning, it wouldn't have just been an attempt.It would've been enough." He squeezes the wheel again.

"M-maybe so," I say, stammering as the truth of his words sinks in. "But that just means he's getting impatient. It doesn't mean that you're messing up—"

"—you shouldn't have even been home!" he says, like he's bursting. "Tad – your ex-boyfriend – is after you, he knows where you live, a fact which I know… and I take you home last night! I send you to your bed alone last night – your bed, which is by the very window he shot fire through this morning! Your bed which caught fire…"

He closes his eyes for a quick second. "You could've been hurt. And I should've known better." His knuckles are all white again.

I sigh. "You can't do this, Cooper."

"Do what?" he asks, miserably.

"Take the blame for everything that happens to me. We've had this conversation a million times. This… is not your fault. And I'm not a breakable doll marked Fragile. I love it that you care. I love it more than I should, actually," I add, quickly. "Please stop torturing yourself, though. I'm not your responsibility. I'm an adult. I can handle myself."

He maintains his ever-serious expression and then slowly, a smile forms. It's not his normal carefree, million-kilowatt smile. But it's something.

"What?" I ask.

"I feel like you're two seconds away from proclaiming your independence as a woman," he says lightly.

I notice his grip on the steering wheel has loosened a little.

I smile, too, at that. "No, I'm not. I just don't want you to put my life in your hands the way you do. It's not fair to you."

"I can't turn it off," he admits quietly. "And anyway, I'm not going to be complacent anymore where you're concerned. You are going somewhere that has security and bodyguards."

"Really," I say, folding my arms across my chest, fixing him with a suspicious look. "And where would this safe fortress be?"

He smiles a little and steals a quick glance at me. "My parents' house."

I'm freaking out. No, seriously. I haven't been to the Cartwright household – more like Cartwright Manor – in, well… awhile. Last time I was there, I was dating Jordan. I was in showbiz! I was on bad terms with Papa Cartwright. Oh god…

… the last time I was there, I think (aka, I'm positive) that I stalked out, declaring that I would find a label that appreciated my creativity. Which I still haven't done, but whatever.

I peek at Cooper. He's turned jazz on again, and is driving, looking more peaceful now than he did when we'd gotten in the car. He has no idea. About my last visit to his parents', I mean. And why would he? He'd already had his own parting of sorts from his parents. Of course he wasn't around to watch mine.

At that thought, though, I turn to Cooper. "Is this okay with you?"

"What do you mean?" he asks, looking down at me quickly.

"Going there. To your parents' house, I mean. You're not exactly on the best terms with your family," I remind him.

"You'll be safe there. Safer than anywhere else I can think of. Paranoid as ever, they have multiple guards and the best security. That's all that matters to me," he says.

"Well, your comfort matters to me," I say. I wonder if he can tell that I just really have no desire to return to this house. It doesn't exactly give me warm or fuzzy feelings. Plus… Cooper's comfort does matter to me. A lot. I don't want him feeling badly in this place that's filled with bad memories for him because of me.

"I'll be fine," he says.

And the next thing I know, we're there, and I feel more nervous at the sight of the house than I did at the sight of fire in my bedroom just an hour earlier. Well, nearly.

Cooper pulls up to the security gate and rolls down his window. I look at the guard and smile because it's Carl. I always loved Carl!

"Hi Carl!" I say excitedly, leaning down so he can see my face.

Carl leans down to look at me and smiles widely when he sees that it's me. "Well, Well, if it isn't Miss Wells. I haven't seen you around here in a long time! It's nice to see you," he says.

"You too!"

Cooper looks at me and chuckles softly.

"I see you've moved onto the better brother," Carl whispers, winking at both Cooper and me.

I blush and look at Cooper, who just smiles at Carl. "Nice to see you again, buddy," he says.

"You too, Cooper."

"Is this a quick visit?" Carl asks. Then he looks at me. "Are you wearing pajamas?"

"Yes," I say in a faux-annoyed voice, narrowing my eyes at Cooper.

"We'll be here for a little while," Cooper explains. "Not sure how long, though. But listen, Carl, don't let any visitors in to see Heather. I'm not sure anyone will come, but if they do…"

"Got it. This one keeps you on a tight leash, huh?" Carl says to me.

I laugh. I've missed Carl.

He waves us off and we park in the eight-car garage that the family does not need. Between the two of them, his parents only have five cars!

Cooper gets out of the car and looks at me expectantly.

"Oh, I'm fine in the car," I say. "Can you just bring me out a cup of water? I'm a little parched. It's been a long morning."

He rolls his eyes and walks around to my side, opens the door and stands there, waiting.

Finally, in a huff, I get out of the car. "I could kill you for this, you know," I say.

"Oh, come on, Heather. If I can do this, you can."

"Your dad doesn't hate you!" I say.

He shoots me an amused expression at that.

"Whatever," I say. "He hates me more. You're family."

He laughs and leads me into the house through the back entrance.

I look at the familiar kitchen before me. I used to sit here all the time, sharing meals with a family that I once would've called my own. They were the closest thing I'd ever had to family at one point. But – like my mom – they'd all eventually gone away.

I look at Cooper.

All but one of them anyway.

The best one – by far – stayed with me.

I hear a noise and turn toward the front hall.

"Who's—" Mrs. Cartwright appears in the doorway, clad in workout gear, a bottle of water in her hand, sweatband on her head. She stares at Cooper and can't seem to hide her smile.

"What are you… what brings you… why… um… you didn't call… I would've—"

"This was sort of a last minute decision," he explains, shrugging.

"It's good to see you," she says, her eyes moist. "I haven't seen you since the wedding."

That would be my ex-boyfriend's wedding to the woman he'd cheated on me with. I'm not bitter about that. Just clarifying.

"I wish you'd stayed longer at the wedding," she goes on. She's sort of babbling the way I do when I'm nervous. I think we may actually have something in common. After all this time! "You kept saying you had to leave to go to the hospital, and you seemed nervous and—"

She stops, finally noticing me. "Heather!" she says, her mouth falling open in shock.

And then she does something really surprising. She… she opens her arms to me. The same woman who had told me that I really had to diet because no one wanted to hear bubblegum pop music from a chubby has-been. She'd said that to go forward and stay on top, I had to change, grow up, become sexy… and use my sexuality as a tool. And, of course, that just made me want a donut. You know. To defy her. To defy all of them.

I don't want to be rude, though, because you know, we (Cooper and I, I mean) are sort of intruding in her private space for our own personal reasons (aka my own personal reasons). Not that this was my idea. But still! I step forward and welcome her hug uncomfortably. She kind of holds on to me, even as I try to pull back.

She looks me up and down, and I feel the same kind of discomfort I did back then – when I was gaining weight, no longer the skinny girl she'd met. But this time, her gaze doesn't look disapproving. It's more… amused.

"Are you wearing pink Superman pajamas out in public?" she asks.

I just glare, once more, at Cooper, and growl quietly.

"Long story," he says, a small smile forming.

"Speaking of long stories," she says, her smile growing, "I got an ear full of one not too long ago." She looks from Cooper to me suspiciously. "Jordan called me. He was having a minor fit."

Cooper rolls his eyes and puts a hand through his hair.

"You really upset him," she says. But she doesn't seem mad at Cooper, the way she'd been when Cooper used to make fun of Jordan and get Jordan all upset. No, right now – she is smiling, like she's happy just to have the chance to talk to Cooper in person.

"He upsets easily," Cooper says.

"Well, he saw a picture in the entertainment section. Actually, I saw it, too and was curious…"

She trails off, puts a finger under her chin, and scrutinizes us. I don't like it, so I stare at the floor. Cooper – who knows what he's doing!

"It's a long story, Mom," he eventually says. "But the bottom line is: we need to lay low here for a couple of days, until something blows over."

"Until what blows over?" she asks. She sounds – if I'm not mistaken – like she's enjoying making us uncomfortable. See? She's a witch! A mischievous little lady.

"Someone wants me dead," I say.

Cooper looks down at me, his brows furrowed together angrily. He doesn't seem to like the way I'd said it so casually.

"What?" I say, shrugging. "That's the long story, in a small nutshell. Someone wants me dead. It happens."

"That's true," Mrs. Cartwright says. "I remember you once had a stalker that was something of a psycho! He tried to kidnap you one time, after a Mall of America event…" she trails off, looking at Cooper. "What's wrong?" she asks.

"We think it's the same guy," I say.

"What?" she says. And I can almost see her paling. And this confuses me. I mean, she used to give me such a hard time! She was downright mean to me at times. But, right now, I can't help but wonder if she actually cares about me. I always assumed she thought I wasn't good enough for her family. Did she, somewhere along the lines, actually start to like me? "The same crazy guy?" she continues. "He's after you again? Now? Why?"

"No idea," I say. "But anyway, that's the reason we're here. That's the reason I'm in my pajamas."

"Oh!" she says, resting a hand on her heaving chest. "Well, stay here as long as you need."

"Thank you," I say, genuinely.

"Yes. Thanks, Mom," Cooper reiterates.

"This still doesn't explain the photo in the paper," she says, looking suspiciously at us once again. "A man wants to kill you, so you two feel it's time for a heated kiss in the street? After all your years of friendship?"

My face surely turns bright red and I look at Cooper. Just like with Jordan this morning, I have no idea how to handle questions about our ruse.

He looks at me and smiles reassuringly. "Something like that," he says, turning back towards his mother.

"Well, honey, come with me upstairs. I must have something you can wear that doesn't have a half-naked superhero on it," she says coyly, taking my hand.

I look at Cooper in shock as his mother pulls me away. Up the stairs.

When we get to her room, I sit down on her bed, unsure of what to do. I look at Mrs. Cartwright, taking in her slender frame. She looks like a size six. Eight max.

"Do you really think you'll have something for me?" I ask.

"I know I do," she says, smiling at me.

I'm still thrown by her behavior. Her smiles, her friendliness. Memories and past behavior immediately make my guard go up and I assume she must be luring me into some kind of false sense of security.

She looks at me for a long moment, like she's studying me, and then takes a seat beside me on the bed.

"I'm sorry," she spits out.

I look at her, confused. "What?" I ask. "Why?"

"You don't trust me. I can see that. And I can't blame you." She sighs. "I didn't always treat you right," she says. "You were a kid, and I did what everyone else did with you. I treated you like some kind of robot, some kind of money machine. For the longest time, I looked at your relationship with my son as nothing more than a publicity stunt."

I stare at her, shocked, wondering what's changed, why she's suddenly all maternal and… nice.

"I saw a picture the other day," she says, smiling, looking off into the distance. "You had to have been sixteen. And… and you looked so unsure. Overwhelmed by cameras. Jordan, now he was right beside you and he looked confident and…. ready. Ready for it all. My heart went out to you when I looked at that picture. You looked kind of alone. Scared. I know that back then, I used to criticize you for being like that. And I'd tell you, wouldn't I? I'd tell you that you needed to act more mature and confident. Sexy," she says, visibly shuddering at the memory. "And now I see this picture and wonder what was wrong with me. How could I have been like that with a kid? And a nice one, at that. You were a good girl, and I never saw that. I'm sorry," she finishes.

When I finally get over the shock of her confession, I close my gaping mouth and clear my throat. "It's cool," is all I manage.

She laughs at that. "I will admit that I never liked you and Jordan as a couple. I didn't think you two fit together, that you were a good match."

Great. I'd always assumed she thought I wasn't good enough for a son of hers. Now she's confirming it.

"He needs someone more like him. Tania really is just like him," she says, shaking her head, smiling. She looks at me squarely. "I love my son; I do, but I don't mean that in a good way."

I look at her, my mouth falling open. I think she just told me that I'm better than Tania. Or something kind of like that.

"You and Cooper are… " she trails off, looking for the right way to word whatever it is she's about to say. "You fit," she says, shrugging.

I blush and say nothing.

"Can you tell me what's going on with you two?" she asks.

I shake my head, because I honestly don't know what I can say to her. She's Cooper's mother! Surely she should have this conversation with him. Besides, he handles these things – questions about us – a whole lot better than I do. This was his plan, after all.

"Please, Heather. I'm just dying to know something about his life. God knows he won't tell me."

I look up at her. "It's just really complicated," I say lamely.

She reaches over to her bedside table and grabs the newspaper. She hands it to me. It's opened to the entertainment section. "Looks pretty simple to me," she says.

I stare at the picture, butterflies jumping in my stomach as I relive that kiss. It felt so wonderful, my lips on his, his arms around me, my hands on his face, in his hair…

I hear her catch her breath and look at her.

"You're in love with him," she says. And then she smiles. "I know it. Don't try to deny it. It's written all over your face."

I look down, ashamed my face is such a bad liar.

"Your secret is safe with me."

I walk downstairs twenty minutes later in a pair of sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt. Turns out Mrs. Cartwright did have something to fit me. She's actually a size ten, and buy all her sweats one size bigger so they fit her loosely (like I do!).

When I enter the living room, I see Cooper, saying bye to someone on the phone. When he notices me, he closes the phone and walks toward me.

"That was Barrett. He just left our place. He said the brick that broke the window had a note attached to it."

I feel something in my stomach tighten. These notes are never good. "What did it say?" I ask.

"That his love for you is burning," Cooper says quickly, and I can hear acid in his tone.

I shudder, thinking about the fire in my bedroom.

Cooper sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"What else?" I ask. Because looking at Cooper, I just know. That there's more, I mean.

"It said that… "

He looks at me, studies my face and takes a step toward me.

"What?" I ask, impatiently.

He takes one of my hands in his.

"It says that when… when he gets his hands on you, you will be…"

He swallows. "I don't know why I can't say this," he says, looking up at the ceiling, "when I know this isn't going to happen."

"What?" I ask again. I feel like all the color has drained from my face. "What's not going to happen?"

"The note said when he gets his hands on you, you and him will be together… the way a man and woman are supposed to be."

I stare into his face, seeing the comforting sight of him clenching his jaw. He stares solemnly at me.

"Oh god," I say, closing my eyes.

He pulls me into a hug and puts one hand in my hair.

"This is never going to end," I whisper.

"Yes, it will."

"No, Coop. He keeps getting closer and closer, and we're always a step behind! We have nothing to go on! I know it's Tad, but no one knows where to find him. He's not at his place, or his old place. He doesn't exist. Who knows what name he's using or where he is. He could be across the street from your house, just waiting for me to step out for the mail or something!"

"He is not getting anywhere near you. You are safe here," he says.

Then, suddenly, he pulls away from me and grabs my face between his hands.

"And haven't you figured out yet," he whispers intensely, fiercely, "that I'd lay my life down to keep you safe?"

I shake my head as a tear slips out of my eye. "Don't you ever—"

But I don't finish what I'm saying, because he lowers his face – like he's done twice before, like he's going to kiss me – and he rests his forehead against mine.

He's breathing hard. This whole thing… it's really getting to him.

"Coop," I say, reaching up to touch his cheek. "It's okay."

He pulls away slightly and looks into my eyes. "It will be," he promises. "I have a new plan. And this time, he's coming out and he's going down. This ends tomorrow."