I squinted my eyes against the lights coming from the pub, trying to get a read on the man's expression. But his face remained in the shadows, his posture stiff and unmoving.

I took a fortifying breath and took a step towards the stranger. Behind his outline, I spotted my reflection in one of the pub's windows, my face pulled into an ugly mask of terror. Suddenly, a smile spread all over my face. It was the weirdest feeling, most likely caused by the adrenaline in my blood that made me a little crazy. But for no reason at all a long-forgotten film about an urban legend popped into my mind and I wondered if a) a window pane that reflects images would count as a mirror and b) if I'd be brave enough to say the forbidden word 'Candyman' three times, looking straight into my reflection's eyes.

Turned out, like with everything in my life, I was neither brave nor a coward. I operated in the shadows. I only mouthed the words because a) I didn't fancy being carted off to spend the night in a straightjacket and b) I figured if you just mouthed the words very quietly, maybe Candyman would not unleash the whole power of his wrath on you.

Anyway, at my whisper the figure started to move towards me, ears cocked. I sure hoped that seeing my lips move was what had propelled him into action and not the actual words I had only muttered them under my breath. It's weird how the dark suddenly makes us believe things we'd not consider plausible under any other circumstances. Although I had to admit I had never uttered these three words into any mirror before, either, not even in the daylight. Not because I believe in urban legends. Of course, I don't, but, hey, you can't be too careful, can you?

Well, it was just like me to try out the 'Candyman' myth in the dark, facing off with some hoodie-clad stranger with familiar eyes. I'm not usually the greatest adventurer under the stars, but prone to do the stupidest things at the weirdest of times.

When the figure finally reached me, I had to force myself not to turn around flee.

I still couldn't see his face clearly under the stupid hood and he had obviously lost his tongue in transit, unless it was full of bees – like Candyman's. I shuddered.

Little note on the side: If you haven't seen the film, don't. For weeks after, you will experience a battle of wills every morning when you brush your teeth. Your inner Evil Queen, with a wicked smile on her face, will urge you strongly to utter the name of the beast three times in front of the mirror, while your inner Griselda's screams of fear and terror press your lips firmly together. Maybe this is what schizophrenia feels like.

I was experiencing a similar feeling right there and then, too. And it had nothing to do with the name I had whispered under my breath in an attempt to dare fate, but everything with the silent figure in front of me. I was determined to follow Griselda's advice now and not say anything at all. But my opponent seemed to be equally determined, and waiting forever wasn't an option, either.

"Well," was what Griselda and the Evil Queen eventually compromised on when it became clear that the hoodie couldn't be tempted into starting the conversation. As ice-breakers go, 'well' seemed harmless enough.

And it worked.

"What the hell are you doing here, Tess?" the figure eventually choked out in a decidedly unhappy voice, triggering my anger button.

"Oh, thank you! I'm so glad to see you too. I haven't seen many resurrections in my life, so yeah, this has made my day really special. Oh, and I'm well, thanks for asking, Jaxson. At least, I'm assuming your name is Jaxson, but I can't be sure because you seem to have come out in boxing club attire."

Jaxson raised his head, pushed back the hood a little and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Excuse me for skipping the niceties. I have other problems right now without you in the mix. I can't believe this! You are the last person I expected to see in this goddamn town."

Even now, I cannot explain why Jaxson's words felt like a dagger to my heart. They were certainly not anything like the words I had heard in my numerous daydreams about a Tess-and-Jaxson reunion. Those daydreams were my happy place, the go-to place in any crisis, the place that made sleep possible when life was impossible.

And he had gone and taken that away now, too. After everything he had already done to me.

My anger boiled over.

"Excuse me for not giving a shit about your personal problems and how my presence impacts your sensibilities, but I live here. And I'm not scared of you or your deplorable family. You try to run me out of this town, I won't go down without a fight." I nearly choked on my bravado because, well, I was scared of the Peinelt gang, terrified of Jaxson's brother and his plans for me if I didn't stop helping Amy. But adrenaline had taken over.

"And I won't abandon Amy, either. Pass that on to your darling brother, please. Saves me a text message!" I added before my courage flushed down the drain under my right foot. Despite my shaking hands, I maintained eye contact.

Jaxson drew an audible breath.

"What the hell do you have to do with Amy? Have you talked to my brother about her? Are you crazy, woman? Simon will eat you alive."

"He might," I conceded. "But Amy is worth it, and I won't stand idly by watching you bunch of evil freaks destroying her!"

"Why are you including me in this band of merry men?" Jaxson hissed. "Look, Amy is my problem, not yours. Get your pretty bum out of this town and let me deal with her. It's a family matter."

"I'm her teacher, and it is now a social services matter." I fought the childish urge to add a "So there!" and stick out my tongue at him.

"Jesus, Tess, Simon is going to go ballistic when he finds out that..."

"He already has, as I'm sure you know. Hence the heart-warming text messages from Mr Father-of-the-Year."

Jaxson rubbed his neck in obvious frustration.

"Listen, Tess, and listen carefully. Simon is dangerous. And he is in league with lots dangerous men. Text him that you made a mistake and that you are sorry. Quit the job and move away from here. Simon has got a lot on his plate at the moment, so he might just let it go then."

I gasped, feeling all kinds of stupid. Yes, Jaxson was being a major a-hole, but he had just lost his father. I wasn't exactly Mrs Sensitive, either.

"Shit, Jaxson, I totally forgot. I'm sorry for your loss."

Jaxson looked at me as if I had lost all my marbles.

"My loss? If you mean the bastard who donated his sperm for my production by 'loss', then you might as well save your breath. I hated the guy with a vengeance, and I'd be celebrating his death if it meant that Blue Church was finally free. But instead, evil old Bro is stepping up to the narcotics-and-weapons plate, plunging Blue Church into another, worse chapter of darkness."

He reached for my hand when I didn't say anything anymore. I let him, unable to make any decisions for myself in that moment.

Did Jaxson mean what he was saying? What was he doing here then so soon after his father's death? Or was all that just some elaborate ploy to shut me up?

"Things might get a little ugly, when the grapevine whispers into Simon's ears that his beloved brother is back again. If so much as a hint reaches him that we know each other, he'll use you as leverage against me. I need you to leave. Please! Much as I would like, I cannot protect you from these people. Getting Amy away from them and bringing down Peinelt and Co. will keep me more than occupied."

Jaxson rubbed my hand. I shivered, a mixture of terror and pleasure. Even after all these years and despite my misgivings, my traitorous body still reacted to Jaxson's charm and beauty.

But that didn't really matter now. The million-dollar question was: Could I trust Jaxson?

I was just about to use my ask-the-audience joker by darting past Jaxson back into the pub for a consultation with my mates, when a loudish crack upset the night around me. Jaxson encouraged my forward motion but modified my direction a little by pushing me to the ground, then pulling me behind a car parked in the street.

"Dammit, the grapevine has already done the whispering," he hissed into my ear. "And now they know that there is a connection between us." He paused. "Man, I have to hand it to him. Big Bro is all about efficiency. Dear old Daddy is not even in the ground and Simon is trying to off me, too. Probably banking on a discount with the undertaker."

"Will you get off me? I can't breathe. You weigh a tonne." My voice was gruff. I was lying, though. Jaxson was shockingly light, and I was able to feel his ribs even through the thick clothes he was wearing.

Jaxson scrambled to get off me, still trying to shield me with his body from another possible bullet.

I wasn't sure, but I assumed Jaxson was right and the noise had been caused by some sort of bullet-shooting device. Guns weren't my strong suit. In fact, I had absolutely no experience or knowledge regarding this matter, but I had watched enough action movies to know that hitting the ground and hiding behind a car was standard operational procedure for McLane and Bond when the bullets started flying.

"Was that a shot?" I asked the man whom I had falsely accused of nearly crushing me to death and who now looked at me as if I had only just tuned into the show.

"Can't see any fireworks going on. Can you?" His voice sounded slightly sarcastic.

"Could have been a car backfiring. I read that in books all the..."

My protest was interrupted by the noise of sirens.

I popped up from behind the car. Well, I half-popped because a steel arm pulled me back down before my head even cleared the top of the car.

"Christ, woman. The shooter's most likely gone by now. But we do not know that for sure, do we?"

He slowed his words towards the end and stressed them as if he was talking to some pupil who believed the fall of the Berlin wall was a tragic accident that cost hundreds of people their lives. Ok, I might have given some answer to this effect in one my less successful history tests back in school – but that had been years ago. Before I had even met the James-Bond-for-the-Poor character currently breathing down my neck. How was I supposed to have known that such a famous fall of a wall hadn't killed anybody?

"And with what great expertise did you determine that this was actually a shot?" I shot back.

Jaxson didn't answer. He pulled on my sleeve and started a weird half-run, crouched low to the ground, pulling me away from the scene with him.

"Stupid question, really," I carried on. "With your career choice, you can probably tell me the direction the shot came from and how tall the shooter was."

The infuriating man dragging me along behind him still did not react, and I suddenly realised that a potential career criminal was leading me away from a crime scene before the police arrived. I mentally slapped myself, then stopped abruptly. Jaxson stumbled, and I thought he was going to hit the pavement face first, but he managed to right himself a second before kissing the tarmac. He whirled around on one leg with a grimace on his face, which could have been caused by pain or frustration.

"Shout a little louder, Tess, if you fancy a nice cosy interview with Blue Church's finest. There's a pretty good chance that two minutes into the interview the helpers in uniform will disappear from the room after turning the cameras off. Have a guess who will appear? Simon the Slimeball. You want to get to know my family better, be my guest." He released my sleeve from his iron grip. "I'd rather have the reunion with Big Bro on a more level playing field. I'm out of here. What about you?"

What about me? I had no idea. Jaxson sounded sincere, and I had talked to people who had assured me that Jaxson would never have followed in his father's footsteps, willingly or unwillingly. Plus, I had a split-second decision to make. Considering I knew for sure that Peinelt did have officers in his pocket, I chose to take my chances with Jaxson and nodded.

"Good! We're far enough away now that we should be safe for a minute. But we can't go back to our cars. Simon will have mine watched. If he knows who you are, yours will be under surveillance, too. Hmm, we could..."

"... go to an old cabin about four miles from here. We'll have to cut through the woods. The cabin is in a little clearing. It belongs to my friend Ayla, but I have a key. She lets me have it whenever I want. It's big enough for two, so she doesn't mind me turning up when she is there as well. She's definitely not there right now because she is at the Blue Bell, and there's no reason Peinelt, your brother or anybody else should know about it."

Jaxson simply nodded and took off towards the woods, setting a fast pace. I tried to keep up, appreciating the view of his body from behind. After a while, though, I noticed a slight hitch in his step that seemed to become more pronounced the further we ran. At first, I wasn't sure if I was imagining things, but as we drew closer to the cabin, I could clearly see Jaxson favouring his left leg. He did not slow down, though, nor did he seem to be breathing hard, while I sounded like a steam train on ecstasy.

With less than half a mile to go, Jaxson stopped and turned towards me. "You'd better lead the way now. We don't want to get lost now or barge into someone else's cabin," he joked.

Trying to suck in a noiseless breath, I pushed past Jaxson and took the lead.

"No need to crawl the last few yards. If you don't get going, Blue Church's senior citizens' knitting club is going to overtake us in a minute!" Jaxson complained after we'd walked a few steps.

I whirled around, my breath coming in embarrassingly audible gasps now. But I had gone past the embarrassed straight into the furious stage.

"In your line of work, you might have enough leisure time to go to the gym and out running twenty times a day and still earn enough money to buy a Rolex when you fancy it. Try being a teacher and a single mother for a few days, so excuse me that running from the police is not part of my skill set."

Angry at myself for letting the remark about being a parent slip and angry with Jaxson because I didn't fully trust him and because I wouldn't have known how to deal with the real emotions my run-in with him was causing, I pushed him as hard as I could. Jaxson, taken by surprise, stumbled, his face a mask of pain for a fleeting second when his left leg hit the ground hard.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I shouted. Then a terrible thought occurred to me. I glanced down at his leg, but couldn't see any blood. "The shot didn't hit you, did it? Or did I hurt you earlier when I stopped so suddenly that you nearly..."

"Relax, Tessa!" Jaxson interrupted my babbling, his voice soft now. "You didn't hurt me."

"You're limping, Jax."

"Might have twisted my knee a little. Nothing to worry about. Honestly."

Still, a massive burden lifted off my shoulders when we finally reached the cabin. Despite Jaxson's protestations, I could see that his leg was bothering him, even if it didn't seem to slow him down.

My hands shaking, I opened the front door with my key and stepped aside to let Jaxson enter first.

"Go and sit down!" I tried to inject steel into my voice, going for shallow breathing to cover up the dog noises my lungs were producing and straightening my spine to hide the fact that my body had suddenly turned into a quivering mass of jelly. "I'll make us a cup of coffee. Then we can talk."

Jaxson headed towards the kitchen instead. "I can make the coffee, Tess. You sound like you're going to keel over any minute. You're coming down off an adrenaline rush. Shaking is normal. Just sit down, relax and get your heart rate under control."

He sounded concerned, but the fact that he seemed to be perfectly composed still managed to get a rise out of me.

"Yeah, well, sue me for not living such an exciting life of crime where dodging bullets is part of the morning hygiene ritual!" I hissed at him despite the shakes.

Coffee finally brewed and filled into cups with me hurling insults and Jaxson catching them silently, we sank down into the comfortable cushions of the two small armchairs in the cabin's main room.