TGIF!!!

Hope everyone is having a good day and I hope you all have a lovely weekend!

Song of the chapter is, 'Hey There Delilah' by the Plain White T's

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"Hey," Sally said on the edge of a breath that sounded almost like a breeze. She was laying across from me on my bed, under the covers like she and I used to do when I was a kid. We would make a "tent" and pretend that it was our fort where not even Jonah Jones could find us.

Her finger ran down the length of my nose before she gave me a tired smile. "You know I love you right? And I'm here for you, right?"

"I know," I replied quietly. "Thanks, Sally."

She took my hand and gave it a light squeeze. "Hopefully it will be over soon."

"Why–how could he do this to me?"

I looked up at her and the waterworks were coming again. I hated how weak he made me feel. How I felt like it was that day all over again; like he was deep in the water where I couldn't reach him yet it felt like he was pulling me down with him.

Sally held me while I cried some more until there was a knock on my door. Stevie had kept his word and brought us Chinese take out to eat, which I wasn't hungry for but Sally forced me to put some on my plate and try to eat it.

I needed to get it together. I had to get my head back in this–figure out what my next move was or what his was.

"What are you thinking Stevie?" I asked. He looked up at with a piece of teriyaki beef on the way to his mouth, freezing at the question. I titled my head. "Tell me–you promised."

He put the piece of beef down then nodded to me. "I did, are you sure? I ask because–" he paused and poked at his food. "Willie I don't want you to get more hurt than you already are."

"I'm sure," I bit out. "It's just going to be worse for me if I don't know."

"Ok," he said. He took a bite of his beef then reached down into his bag and pulled out his notebook where he flipped through some pages. "So we're still waiting on the lab for the tank report–but right now none of it's his blood and none of it is blood that matches anyone else. We think he was down there but we're not sure in what capacity. It was like someone was living down there–feces, urine, parts of rotten food, and fish bones."

"You think it was him?" I asked with my brows furrowed.

"Or–"

"Ok," I rushed out. "Ok, what else?"

"We've gone through his old room at his old house and got nothing. As you know we're back at Nana Jones'. We should know in a few days. I was able to talk to Natty, he lives in Milwaukee now and hasn't even heard Jonah's name since the accident.

"His mother and sister are on their way here as well. Hopefully, they can give us some insight."

"They're a barrel of fun," I replied.

"So we have heard," Stevie sighed out.

I rubbed my face then looked back to him. "I'm sorry–I still. I just can't, I can't believe he would do this."

I couldn't. It was still so absurd to me. I was so torn in half because I knew what the evidence was saying but I also knew what my heart was saying, or was it what my heart wanted? The Jonah I knew–he would never do this.

"I know this is a shock, to say the least," Stevie said. "We know that he's come out here to see you at least once and Nana Jones multiple times. We asked her about a phone today or what she used to contact him and she said that she didn't, that he just showed up." He toyed with his food then looked at me with sad eyes. "She also went on and on about Henry. It was honestly really hard to tell what was her telling us something concrete and what was her mind getting the best of her."

"I can go back and talk to her," I replied quietly. "It's probably upsetting her with all those people there, she may need a day or so."

"Ok," Stevie said with a nod. "If you think you're up for it."

"I am." I was. I was going to get to the bottom of this damn thing.

"Well, he came to her place with no malice intended," Stevie said. "Also he came here–but we have no idea what he meant to do. You don't remember seeing the person move towards the window or anything?"

"No," I replied quickly. "No, like I said, they were just there. Then I was running after them."

"Well, there's the fingerprint on the window."

"Do you think he was going to try to come see me or watch?"

"I think it could be one of two," Stevie explained. "He could have been watching you, or has been and got caught. He may have had plans to make contact and was keeping tabs. Or ya, he was going to come see you."

"Why? I mean, to kill me?"

Stevie shrugged with a slow shake of his head. "I don't think so, you don't fit the victim profile."

"I just–why do all this?" Sally sighed out. "I mean this–sorry Stevie but this is like completely absurd. Everyone loved Jonah. He was such a good guy."

"I know," Stevie said with a nod. "Everyone loved Jonah. He was the guy that girls wanted to be with and guys wanted to be friends with. He was well liked, easy to talk to.

"I think he's using that as how he lures people out. Seducing the women and making fast buddies with the guys. I think that he had a mother that was never really a mother for him and a sister that he probably feels guilty about–older siblings always try to protect the younger ones. His father was more or less a piece of shit–never remotely close to what his idea of a father figure is."

"But people would recognize him," I pushed back. "Hey grew up here–it's a small town."

"Not the victims," Stevie said. "Like you said, they were too young to know Jonah, and Jonah could have easily changed enough of his appearance after all these years that people would have forgotten about him."

"Jesus Christ," I said as I rubbed my face. "So what about me? He hasn't tried to contact me. I mean–since the window."

"Remember that case we had when we both first started, that one in Seattle with that woman and her siblings?"

I leaned back and nodded. "Ya, she forced them to play house with her for years. Even took in more kids–oh...Are you serious?"

He let out a reluctant breath. "The victim profile, they match that whole family; blond hair, light eyes, decent build. The unsub is trying to rebuild a family. He probably thinks that he's taking care of them by saving them from their own lives or he's keeping the ones that 'fit.'

"He still cares for Nana Jones because it's his job and you–well you got away and he may or may not have anticipated that. But now that you're back, he may want to try and live out this fantasy with you in mind. He left you so he could feel guilty, or maybe that night you weren't supposed to–"

"Live?" I stuttered out. "You think he would have killed me?"

"I think there's no reason for him to have just left you unless he felt like he needed time to be this 'better man' you know? Perfect his craft so when you did reunite then everything would be perfect."

"Shit." My tongue felt like it was swelling in my mouth and my head–my head was spinning. "I can't...."

"When he kills it's a crime of passion. Anger. He's angry because they didn't fit into his fantasy, even blames it on them."

"Sally..."

Sally was holding a trashcan for me while I threw up into it. Stevie got up and got me some ice tea while my stomach felt like it was about to come up out of my mouth.

"Willie, we have patrols on both houses, ok? We're not going to let anything happy to you. Honestly, I think we're all more afraid you'll put a bullet in his head before we get the chance to slap some cuffs on him," Stevie rushed out while he handed me an iced team.

The ice clinked against the glass as it shook in my hand. "Ok."

"If it's him–he's smart Willie. He's going to lay low and let us play for a bit before he does anything. If I give you a map can you circle for me maybe old spots you two used to go to?"

"Yes, I can," I said before I took a long sip of water. "Just get it, get me a pen."

Sally was rubbing my back while Stevie laid a map out in the living room for me. I tried not to cry as I circled a few areas for him. He thanked me and promised that he would let me know what they found when it came back.

He also asked me if it was too much. Of course, it was too much, but I couldn't not know. I had to know. I was going to be sicker over it if I didn't know.

How was he talking with Nana Jones? Had he been going over there every day like he did when we were in high school? Was she telling the truth? Did he just show up?

As I went to bed I couldn't help but think about all these things. If Jonah was still looking out for her I can't imagine that he would leave her without a way to call for help if she really needed it.

Blue jumped in bed with me; I had locked all the doors and talked to my dad who was at the station. He told me he would be home later but with two patrols around my house, Jonah would be an idiot to come near here. With the gun on my nightstand, he would be an idiot to do that.

It was all just so insane. I felt like I would have known if he was a sociopath as a teenager. He wasn't violent or anti-social, but psychopaths are master manipulators. They learn to mimic social cues in order to get what they want. Many have learned to mimic things like what people perceive as love and empathy, even thought they are not empathetic themselves.

He was spontaneous and that's one of the things I loved back then about him. He broke me out of my shell; would knock on my window so we could sneak out and go to a surprise boat trip to a little island where we would make love all night.

He never seemed insincere, but that could be easy to learn and copy. He was never unremorseful; when we fought it ate both of us up. It weighed on both of us–and when it was on him I knew the guilt he felt to be true. At least hat's how it seemed.

Sex was never just an action for him either. It was never a way to manipulate–when Jonah made love to me it was like he was pouring all of himself over me.

But psychopaths have been known to be great at sex–it's apart of how they handle relationships, but ours didn't fit what other psychopaths have been known to do. He didn't detach, he didn't try to grow cold on me only to real me back. Jonah was always mine and I was always his. But hell, even Dexter had a Goddamned wife and kid.

He was reliable but there were times when he would forget things, like putting gas in the boat so we had to paddle the whole way back. But Jonah wasn't so into what he was doing that he forgot about everything around him; he was responsible, but responsibility could be learned.

Was it all a show? What is all an act for later?

I just couldn't believe that–no, I didn't want to. What was our relationship then? Was this all a lie? All of it?

I rubbed my face then turned away from Blue. I couldn't' sleep with him looking at me like he was expecting me to start crying again. Crying did occur again; I cried myself to sleep as the sound of the wind outside howled like it was a shovel digging a bigger hole in my soul.

Sleep was deep, probably because I had taken some Z-Quill; best over the counter drug. I felt hazy though when I woke. It was still dark in my room and the wind was still howling.

I looked around my room to find it messier than usual. Clothes were piled on the ground for me to wash and my hairspray and makeup was scattered on my counter.

Rubbing my eyes, I looked up to see a note on the mirror written in what looked like a dry-erase market that said, 'Don't forget to unlock your window!' I cocked my head, my fingers twirling with my long hair.

There was a tapping outside. It stirred something familiar in me; I got up almost instinctually and looked outside to see Jonah staring at me with a smile. My fingers quickly unlatched the window and cracked it open. "What are you doing!?"

"What you does it look like?!" he whisper hissed back.

I shook my head, something was weird about this, but it was Jonah and the butterflies were flying around in my stomach. "My dad will catch you!"

"Hasn't yet! Come on Mina!"

"Fine..."

I stepped back and made sure my bedroom door was shut before I walked over to my bed. Nerves eating at me. Jonah always did this to me; he always made me feel like it was the first time he ever snuck into my room.

He stepped in quietly then shut the window; closing the curtain enough so the moon barely shone in, he turned to me with a soft smile. "How many times do I have to tell you to leave your window unlocked?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's my window, I'll do what I want Jonah Jones."

"And you're my girlfriend."

"So what?"

"So kiss me," he said as he dipped down to me. "Please?"

I smiled against his lips that were warm against mine; letting his hands gently grabbed onto my waist as we slid back against the bed without breaking apart. His tongue dipped in my mouth and did that thing where he makes me dizzy. I sighed into his mouth, the smell of his aftershave intoxicating me.

"Did you miss me?" he asked as he kissed along my neck.

"Needy much?"

"For you maybe."

I turned my head and caught his green eyes like ivy in the swamp looking at me with a smile. "Did you miss me, Jonah Jones?"

"You know I did," he said quietly as if the question were more serious than it was intended.

He was quiet then; laying next to me, his fingers playing with the skin below my belly button. "What's wrong?" I asked.

He looked up at me with a strange fog in his eyes. "You trust me right?"

"Yes, of course. Why? What's wrong?"

He shook his head with a soft smile. "Nothin' baby."

"Jonah..."

He leaned forward and kissed me again and within seconds I forgot what I was going to ask him. My hands roamed over his strong shoulders while he started to tug my shirt off. I sighed as his hands still cool like the night air ran over my bare skin.

Our lips broke apart as he pressed his lips down my chest; his hand gliding over a nipple that's tightened with the cool air. He leaned back and watched his hand cover my breast; the entirely of it fitting perfectly in his palm. "It's like these were always supposed to be mine."

I rolled my eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"I love you." My heart flutters as he brushed his lips over mine. "Tell me you love me, Mina."

"You know I do," I replied.

"Tell me your mine, Mina."

I let his lips cover mine as he tugged on my nipple. "I'm your's–you know that."

"I've missed you so much, Mina."

"Jonah it's only been a few hours," I replied into his kiss.

"It feels like years."

I let out a breathy laugh before he captured my tongue. Groaning and pulling him closer to me, I started to tug his shirt off, I need his skin against mine.

He tugged his shirt off then came back to my lips where it feels like he was supposed to always belong. "Well, then you have some catching up to do."

"Baby we have years of catching up to do."

"Jonah what are you talking about?" he paused over my lips and his body went rigid. "Jonah?"

He leaned back and somehow the moon was shining into the room. Jonah looked at me now and his hair was dark; it's like a dark chocolate brown. He's got brown eyes, cold and hard, and brown scruff on his jaw that matches the dark hair on his head.

"Jonah? What the hell?!"

"It's been too long Mina," he says in a voice that is so sharp it's like my skin is actually slicing open.

"What–Jonah! Jonah no!"

He's got his hands on my neck and he's holding me down against the bed that water is slowly rising above. I'm thrashing and trying to get away; clawing at his arms, but he's on top of me and he's so much stronger than me.

I beat at him but I can't breathe and soon the water is covering my face. All I can see are his dark eyes watching me as the bubbles come out of my mouth–bubbles that are soon growing smaller and more infrequent as all the air started to leave my lungs.

I thrashed at him some more. My weary limbs try to free myself but his hands are cutting the air off and the darkness I fall into is like the darkness in his eyes.

I closed my eyes only to rip them open as a scream tore out of my mouth. My room is still dark and the dog is still next to me and my curtains are still closed.

It was a dream.

It was a horrible dream.

I rubbed my face and let out a cry mixed with a gurgle because it felt so real. Everything felt so real. It was like he was here with me. It was like I was drowning.

Quickly, I ran to my window and check it over. It's locked tight and when I peeked through the curtain I'm pleased to find that there's nothing there.

But my heart is pounding and my mind spinning. I turned back towards my bed and it's just blue; on my dresser it's bare. The makeup that was there in my dream had been thrown away a long time ago. That life was thrown away a long time ago.

My skin was shaking; it's like he's breathing down my neck. I didn't know what to do so I ended up taking a hot ass shower, hoping the steam would settle me.

It did but only a little bit; I ended up taking another shot of Z-Quil as well before I crawled back to bed with Blue, who seemed perfectly calm–more annoyed that I had disrupted him.

When I did finally fall asleep, it was to the memory of his eyes and the feeling of his skin covering me like a blanket.

Stevie and Sally came over the next day. My dad was apparently showing Tom and the rest of the team some of the areas on the map. They brought me breakfast and no more news of anything that was helpful.

I never told them about the dream.

They came over every day that week to check on me. That week that went by with nothing new.

The blood wasn't Jonah's in the tank and they couldn't find anything that Nana Jones had been using to contact Jonah with. They'd been also keeping up with the other leads to be thorough, but it looked like Jonah was turning out to be our tall, dark, sinister man.

Jonah who made love to me under the stars the night he died.

Jonah who's little room inside his room was wiped down; they didn't even find a print in there or any hair but hair that had been there for years–which they were waiting for tests on. Whoever had been in there–they had keep it very clean and taken extra precaution to make sure that we only got jack shit out of it.

It felt like we were getting Jack shit out of everything.

Stevie was with me after Sally left today; he was showing me the areas they searched but it was like he vanished. There hadn't been any more killings, sightings, nothing unusual at all.

"I think he's picking out his next target," Stevie said.

"You sure?"

"That or he's done," Stevie replied. "He could know it's too hot and wants to lay low. He could go dormant for years again."

"This is insane."

He nodded. "Have you been by to talk to Nana Jones?"

"No, I haven't," I replied.

"If we have a phone we may be able to trace him."

"You've looked and there's nothing Stevie."

"Ya but you never know," he said. "No one else has heard. His mother wasn't useful at all. She's barely even talked to her own daughter for years, and Delia is just as flaky."

"Really?" I asked.

He nodded. "On her second husband. Said that her dad was a piece of shit and wouldn't be surprised if Jonah was too. She said the men in her family were always pieces of shit."

"Henry wasn't," I breathed out. "I didn't know him but my dad always said he was a good man; that he was good to Nana Jones."

Stevie shrugged. "I think they may also have a thing against men in general. It's hard to look at something with a positive light if it's treated you poorly for the majority of your life."

"I suppose."

Stevie looked at his phone then back to me. "I got to run. Will you be alright?"

"Ya, go. Let me know."

He nodded and ducked out of the house, leaving me with Blue, who joined me as I smoked a cigarette and drank some moonshine with my tea on my back porch. The air was thick outside again and I could hear the thunder from a distant storm coming. There was a little muskrat in the water swimming outside our dock. Cute little guy that I hoped would find some shelter before the storm hit.

Blue and I ended back in my bed; he let me hold him while I tried to ignore the raging storm outside. A storm that kept waking me up as it beat against my window. At one point my dad peaked his head in to make sure everything was locked tight; we already had some limbs down and he was worried that it was far from over.

It felt far from over.

The next morning when I woke up it was perfectly sunny outside. I walked to my window and opened it so I could see out; the condensation had fogged it up.

Limbs were down everywhere as well as leaves, it was like a damn hurricane came through here.

I lifted the window more and heard something fall before a tiny splatter sound could be heard. My brows furrowed as I stood on my tip toes to see what it was.

An origami.

It was so tiny, maybe a little bigger than a quarter. It was a frog in bright green paper laying in the mud.

The next thing I knew my feet were rushing me outside over to where it was sinking. I carefully picked it up then unfolded it–Jonah always left notes in them for me when we were kids.

But this one was blank. There was nothing in it. It was absolutely blank.

I looked around the yard, my stomach churning because I think any message would have been better than this one.

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What do you guys think?!

Who do you think the paper crane is really from?