PEEPPSS, 

Today–today feels like a Thursday, but it's a Tuesday. Tuesday-Bluesday. So, hope this cheers you all up! 

Love you all! 

Remember to comment and vote! 

Song of the chapter, 'Tighten Up' by The Black Keys

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I felt like I was going to throwup on the way to the shack. I called Jonah on the walkie-talkie. Needless to say, Jonah was less than thrilled. He was waiting on the banks for me when I pulled up.

What if they thought I was in it? What if they suspected me? I couldn't leave him. One look and I knew I couldn't leave him. But what the fück would I do?

He just walked towards me and pulled me to him, his torso still wet and my shirt clinging to it. We were quiet for a few moments, it felt better to be close to him again. It felt better to be kissing him again.

He pressed his lips to my neck then pushed some of my hair back. "Go on, I'll wait."

I nodded and walked into the shack where it smelled too clean. I hated it. I hated that our safe haven was gone.

My fingers started to touch things almost at first robotically until it was like I was rediscovering the place. There was a picture on the wall of Jonah and I that I hadn't noticed until now. We were each holding a fish that we had caught except Jonah was kissing his. We had to be around sixteen in this picture–I still had braces.

There was another of Jonah, my dad, and I. Dad had taken Jonah and me deer hunting and we each got a buck. We were holding our deer up and dad was standing between us. Jimmy had taken the picture because he had gone with us–I remember he had taken me with him and was so excited when I got my deer. He bragged to everyone at the station that it was his coaching.

The room that was the evidence room was gone. Jonah burned it all and put the desk and strange shag rug that we were both sure carried strange germs in the long fabric. The bedroom was the same. I laid on the bed and tried to smell the sheets–they smelled clean and not like him. It smelled like detergent and not all the love we had made in that bed.

All of his clothes were gone. Some of mine and some of my dad's moved back in. He was gone from this house and I hated it.

I walked back out to find him close to the water. He was sitting on the bank where he first showed me what happened to him, his eyes off in a sea of thoughts. He pulled me down to sit in his lap where his fingers instantly snaked through my hair. "Mina if they arrest you, you know you can't stay here."

"I could stay with the sisters?"

"Mina they will tear this swamp up baby, there will not be a safe place for you. You have to be ready to go."

"Jonah–I don't want to leave you."

"And I don't want you in jail. If you're in Mexico, at least I can meet you. I could come find you after all of this shit is over."

"We don't know–it may not come to that."

"It may not but you have to be ready to go if you have to."

"Jonah–"

"Mina," he said, his voice firm–demanding attention. "Baby, I love you. I can't have you in jail. I can't find you in jail. I can't let that happen to you. If they come after you, you are going to run. You're not going to worry about us–we will be fine, but you will run if I have to put you on a damn plane or boat myself."

My heart twisted and I felt my throat clench. He sighed and pressed his lips to my hair, quiet again while we watched the water lap at the banks. "It kills me too, Mina. I don't want you to go either."

"I know," I said with a sigh. "We're having a cookout tomorrow and dad thinks we could maybe dig up Brittany tomorrow."

"Does your dad have the keys to the graveyard?"

"Maybe? What–I guess we could boat her over?"

Jonah shook his head. "Bring a tarp or something. We can wrap her up then I'll swim her to the sisters."

"Ok," I said, while I toyed with his fingers. "Where will we go? When it's all over?"

He felt his lips smile on my shoulder. "Where do you want to go?"

I shrugged. "Anywhere. Everywhere?"

Jonah chuckled and slipped a hand under my shirt so his hand could feel the bare skin of my stomach. "I think I still will need water–I don't know if I'm ever going to be a full human."

"I like the beach?"

"Bahamas?"

"Oh, Tahiti?"

"Cabo?"

"Jamaica?"

"Baby, we can literally go to every damn place in the Caribbean if we want. I just want you. That's all."

I leaned back against him with a smile while he pressed his lips onto my cheek. "What if we bought a boat?"

"Mmmm?"

"You know, like a sailboat–something big enough we could live on? We could just sail wherever we needed to go. We probably need to always move, every so many years because I bet the Feds will have tabs on me even after this. We could go to any beach really."

"A boat," he mused before he nodded. "I actually like that."

"Ya?"

"As long as you wear a cute sailor's hat, Mina."

I rolled my eyes. "We'll see."

"It be hot, baby."

"Jonah Jones there's more to me than what's in my pants."

"Baby the hat would be on your head."

I snorted out a laugh and pressed my lips to his. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"What?" He bit his lip then stood up, pulling me up with him before he started to pull me back towards some of the brush. "Jonah?"

"I think I left a sailor's hat back here Mina, I think we should find it."

We didn't find a sailor hat but we did find a few blankets and some moonshine that Jonah had brought because if Jonah was anything, he was a romantic sap. But he was addicting and for a few hours, it was like none of the other bullshit existed. It was just us.

Jonah followed me back home where my dad was outside having a drink. I pulled the boat into the dock then tied it off when Jonah pulled himself up on the nose of it before I got out. "You have to be careful."

"I know, come here."

I walked over to him, taking his hand so he could pull me into his arms where his lips devoured me. "Jonah you have to be careful."

"Tell me you love me, Mina."

I sighed and pressed my lips to his. "I love you."

He nipped at my bottom lip while his hands roamed across my back. "Tell me your mine."

"I'm yours, you know that," I told said before reluctantly, I pulled away. "Be careful."

"Just keep them off your ass. If I have to siren them I can."

"Ok," I said with a nod, although I would rather not siren the FBI.

I jumped up onto the dock and turned around to wave but he was already gone. He was gone but dad was having a good drink on the porch. He gave me a small smile when I neared him and pulled a drink out from around his back.

I snorted out al laugh. "That bad?"

"This is for you."

"Really bad?"

"The shack?"

"Good."

"Jonah?"

"Good," I said as I sat down next to him. I took the drink, moonshine and tonic, then took a long sip. "How was Jimmy?"

"Pissed," he said. "He and Tom got into it. He wants to open up Jonah's juvie files–and yours."

"What?!"

Dad took another long drink. "Jimmy almost got himself kicked off the case. Told Tom that he should get off the witch hunt and find the guy actually responsible."

"Shit dad," I groaned. My records were clean, but like one time I got arrested with Jonah. We had been trespassing and a new cop ended up booking us–not realizing who I was. Jimmy actually came and got us out then lectured us about sneaking out to bang on private property.

"We need to kill him," I said. "Then I hopefully, I can get them off the case. If we can give them a body–maybe Jonah could siren them to push them away from me."

Dad nodded. "A body would be good. Let's not bank on it. Jonah may be sirening a whole lot of people before we're done here."

"We don't need to siren them all, just the ones pushing the "me" implications."

"Stevie?"

"Mhmm," I hummed into my glass.

Dad leaned back and nodded. "If it comes to it."

"And we're cooking out?"

He snorted out a laugh. "Ya, I called Sally. She said she bring a macaroni salad."

"You don't think it's stepping over a line?"

"Well," Dad said. "Technically they haven't declared the cases 'linked' so Macy's death is still a sole homicide. It gives them a little more freedom and keeps the town calm for now. They're going to declare them linked, but it's important that we don't have a frenzy so they're trying to do everything by the book and keep it quiet."

"I'll call Crawdad," I said. "Get a few drinks in Stevie or Hank and they'll talk."

"How was Hank?"

I shrugged. "He didn't say much."

"Honey–"

"I know dad," I sighed out. "He's not said much, or really done much–I'm not going to bring anything up unless he does."

"And if he does?"

"We were just hooking up anyways. I never wanted more."

"I would say Jonah could siren him but Jonah may kill him," he chuckled out. "You hungry?"

"Ya," I said with a nod.

"Jimmy's wife sent over brisket, gonna need you to go grocery shopping tomorrow."

"Awesome," I groaned.

Dad held his hand out and helped me stand. "I know. Our local WalMart is enthralling honey. Maybe you should pick up some books so it looks like you have been reading," he teased.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, fine..."

Dad and I ate and tried not to talk about the case. Instead, we watched Die Hard, a nice violent film that dad said would take my mind off things, then we finished off some vanilla Bluebell before we called it a night. A night where there was tapping on my window; I snatched my gun then crept over, praying it wasn't Jonah because that was just asking for trouble.

It wasn't Jonah. It was Hank.

"Shit," I hissed.

I uncocked the gun then cracked the window. "Hank?"

"Can I uh–come in?"

I bit my lip and looked around outside. "I'll come out."

He nodded and stepped back while I closed the window before I slipped some shorts and shoes on. Before I forgot I slipped the bracelet on, explaining to Hank about Jonah and my new matching tats was another issue I didn't want to deal with.

Hank was sitting on my porch when I walked outside with Blue. There was a sound in the brush and when I looked I could see Diana watching me. Letting out a nervous breath, I took a seat on the steps next to him.

"Hey," I said, trying to break the awkward quiet.

He was quiet for a few moments. Hank was never quiet. He was direct. He said what he wanted. He did what he wanted.

"What is this Hank?"

"I need to ask you something and I want you to tell me the truth–I'm not asking as an agent Willie." I rested my chin in my hand then nodded to him. "Are you seeing Jonah?"

"Jesus Hank..."

"Willie I'm serious."

"How?!" I shook my head at him like he had grown four. "There–" I paused because legitimate tears came to my eyes. Fear. I was so scared in that moment that all the shit would hit the fan. That I would loose everything–him, my dad, my life. "I just want this to be over," I found myself saying with a voice that started to crack. "Why won't this be over?"

I didn't want to cry in front of him but I could feel it coming. "Why did you call Natty?"

Jesus Christ, I was so done. I tossed my hands up. "Because," I said. "I just–" I tried to pull it in because I had to dig my way out of this. "Hank, he proposed to me the night he died. I–" Hank let out a stressed breath and nodded like he understood. "I just–even after I couldn't get over it. I didn't want to believe it."

I felt his hand rub my back affectionately. The skin around my wrist crawled but I couldn't really stop him–I wasn't in the place to do that. "I don't know where Jonah is. Go home Hank," I said before I stood up.

I just started to walk back into the house; I had to wake my dad up. Jonah was going to have to siren Stevie. He was going to have to siren Hank. He was going to have to siren everyone.

My mind was spinning so fast that I didn't hear Hank walk after me. "Willie," he whisper-yelled as I walked into my room, the bedroom window wide open. It was open. Hank was behind me. Shit.

I froze because I could feel something wet under my feet–the carpet was wet. Someone else was here. "Willie," Hank said again. He needed to leave. He was in danger. I had no idea if it was Jonah, the creature, or something else but either way–he had to go.

"Willie please just talk to me." I turned and he was close to me, too close to me. "Whatever it is, let me help you."

"There–Hank I don't know where Jonah is. I literally have zero idea! I don't know what else to tell you!" I whisper-yelled to him. "I don't know what else to tell you."

"Willie," he said, his voice low and almost hurt. "You have never once lied to me. Never since I have ever known you–"

"What, are you saying that I'm lying?" I bit out. "Really Hank?!"

"Why did you call Natty? And don't give me this 'I've been reading bullshit', Willie. You and I both know that's shit!"

I bit my lip and shook my head because he was so getting serenade. All I could think of was how to get him out of the house though. He had to get out of the house. "It is shit," I admitted. "You're right."

He sighed, visibly deflating and took a step towards me. I took a step back, then another until I was pressed against the closet door. "I want to help you. Willie, whatever it is, I swear to God it will stay here between us–but let me help you. You don't have to do this by yourself."

I blinked hard because Hank was a good man. Hank was the kind of person that needed someone good to give him babies and a good life. I wanted Hank to be happy–and I needed him to be safe. I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to Hank.

"Hank, I–" I paused and tried to think of what to do. Tried to think of how to get him out. "What else am I suppose to tell you guys? Do you think I want to tell you how it's been hell? How for a week after you all left I barely got out of bed? I could get kicked out of the agency–they would slap me with too many psych evals to handle this kind of work–"

"Willie–"

"You know it's true!" I hissed. "What else am I supposed to tell you?" I asked, my voice cracking again. "That I miss him? That I go to the shack because it's the only place I feel like I can have him to myself again? I can't–he died but part of me can't believe that. Part of me wants to so I can let it go but–we were going to get married, Hank. I don't know what else you all want from me."

"Ok," he said with a nod. "Ok–I'm sorry. Hey," he said, dipping his head to look at me "I'm sorry ok? It was a theory Stevie had. I didn't want to believe it. I'm sorry."

I wiped at my eyes and prayed that he would just leave now. Just go. "It's ok. I get it."

"Do you want me to stay?"

He wanted to stay. He wanted to stay so badly and I hated it for him. "I'm sorry Hank. I already told you–"

"It's ok," he said with a nod as he stepped back. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I know, thank you."

He nodded again then took another step back. "I'll just let myself out."

"Ok." I wiped at my eyes again. "I'm sorry."

He lingered at the door then left. My heartbeat picked up. I was practically holding my breath. I heard the back door close and immediately my feet carried me to my revolver.

The closet door burst open; fingers on the trigger, my breath steadying while I steadied my breath to think. The metal was cool in my hand, the gun ready and the footsteps louder. But before I could turn, something grabbed my arm and yanked me around. I had the gun on their chest and was about to pull when I saw his eyes–moss green on the same face that had lips that were trying to talk to me.

"Jonah?"

"Mina, put the gun down it's ok."

I let out a series of hot breaths, the gun still pressed to his chest. "Jonah?"

"Baby, it's me. It's ok. Put the gun down."

"I don't–I thought, what are you–" I stumbled back and uncocked my gun, setting it on the bed as my knees buckled.

"Mina–hey," he said as he steadied me, helping me sit down on the bed. "Hey–look at me. You're safe, it's just me. I'm sorry–I didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing here?!" I huffed out. "It's not safe Jonah! It dangerous!"

"I know, I know," he quickly said. "And I'm sorry, but I had to see you–I found something."

"It couldn't wait?!"

"No, I'm sorry Mina," he said while he pushed some hair out of my face. "It's just me, calm down."

"Jonah, why are you here?"

"I found something I need to show you," he explained. "It can't wait, I'm sorry–"

"Hank–"

"Didn't see me, there's no one else around," he said. "He's lucky–I was two seconds away from sirening his ass–"

"Be nice, he's not a bad person–"

"But he's in love with you–"

"Can you blame him?"

"Not funny Mina," he said with an arched brow.

"You scared the shit out of me," I said with another pant. 

"I know, are you ok?"

"I am now–"

"Mina that's not what I'm asking."

I sighed and looked back at him. He was kneeling between my legs, a hand rubbing the skin above the line of my shorts. "I hate lying to them. I don't know what to say. I don't want to betray them, they're like family to me."

He pressed his lips to my fingers and looked back at me. "You can go back. You know that."

I shook my head. "No."

"You love your job, your friends–I wouldn't be–Mina you could–"

"Stop it, just stop," I said hotly. "I'm not leaving you. I'm not. Ok? I mean, do you want me to go?"

"Jesus Mina, you know I don't. I just want you to be happy, baby."

"Jonah I love you. I want to do whatever this is with you. I'm happy with you. Don't ask me that again. Promise me you won't."

He nodded and kissed my fingers again. "Ok, I promise."

"What did you find?"

"Ok, so I was digging around at the sisters, and I found a few books–" he paused and went to the closet then grabbed a burner phone. "I didn't bring them–I was afraid they would know, but I took some pictures. Do you want something to drink?"

"I see what you're doing."

"And?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I see what you're doing."

"And?"

"Fine, make me a drink Jones."

Jonah rolled his eyes then proceeded to bring me back some peach moonshine over ice and sweet tea along with a glass for himself. He took the phone then opened a photo. "Ok, so see this?" he said while he kicked his shoes off. "I found it in this journal. It–I think, is a list of all the watchers of the swamp. See that name there?" he asked while he pointed to one at the bottom of the last page. It read "William." "That wasn't that long ago, look, it was like seventy-five years back he was made this swamp thing then right around twenty-five years ago he left."

"What about the next one?"

Jonah shook his head. "Nothing. It stops there."

"William LeFrache," I said as I looked at the name. "Hold on a second."

Quickly, I dashed into the kitchen then dug through the junk drawers. My hands looked around until I found a few pens and a notepad from our local bank.

Jonah had already pulled his shirt off and was laying back on the bed, sipping his drink. "Mina?"

"Ok, so you said like seventy-five years back?"

"Ya, it looks like seventy-five years back and around twenty-five years ago he was gone from what the dates are here," he told me. I took a seat next to him and started to scribble it down.

"Ok, what else."

"Ok so there was that but then there was something else."

"Ok..."

"Ok so it was more like a journal," Jonah said. "So this is a picture–sorry the quality is kinda shitty, I was trying to get it all and not get caught, but, it looks like a journal entry."

"Ok," I breathed out as I looked at it. "What am I looking at?"

"Bottom left corner."

I looked at the bottom left corner and read through some very neat cursive handwriting. Handwriting that talked about William asking the sisters to both help him find a replacement and turn someone else into a siren–a woman. I cocked my head and leaned back against the pillows. "So, do you think this happened?"

"I don't know," Jonah explained. "That's also one of the last pages that mentioned it. The rest are of like weird shit–like talking to frogs and shit. Anyhow, if you read more you'll see they said no."

"Ok, but something happened to him, so did it still happen?" I asked. "I mean he wasn't who turned you so, he had to have figured a replacement."

"I mean, either ya they caved and did it or someone else..."

"Sophie?"

"That's what I'm thinking," Jonah said. "What if he got mad because they refused to help and he went to her? She obviously wanted to screw them, she could have screwed them more."

I bit at the cap of the pen and nodded. "Ok–that's a fair theory. What else?"

"Keep scrolling."

The next picture was of another page. An older page. There was more jumbled handwriting on it but there was a date on it. It was March 3rd,  1992. There was some strange pictures drawn, phrases, but one caught my eye. One that said, amongst other things, "We told him we could not help him, to take his Josephine and go."

"Mina wasn't your mother's name Josephine?"

It was.

I leaned back against the pillows and shook my head slowly. "What–I mean what are you saying? That it's the same? We don't know that..."

"Ok, when did she bailout?" he asked gently. "Do you remember?"

I bit the pen again and shrugged. "I was a baby–I want to say around one?"

"And you were born in 1991," he said. "So that was around ninety-two when she would have bailed, right?"

"Jonah that's crazy–" I shook my head before I took a big drink. "We don't know they are talking about the siren and we have no idea if it's the same woman. I mean Josephine is a really common name down here."

"Mina, how do they know you're full name? Why did they want your hair?"

"They are the Moirai! They know shit and I mean who knows Jonah!"

"Mina..."

"I don't–we need more for that to be an actual theory. This is all circumstantial at best."

"Ok, scroll again."

I sighed and scrolled while he put an arm around my shoulders. I sighed until my breath caught in my throat. It caught when I read the words that said, "She loved him but I told her no. I told her she made her choice–she had her Wilhelmina and the Gods did not favor such a selfish act."

"Oh my God..." I shook my head slowly. "No, no–what?"

"Mina–"

"Wha–are you kidding me?!" My breath came out in hot pants. "My–is this real?! Tell me this is someone else."

"It could be," he said before he turned so he could look at me. "Look, Mina, it could be. It could be totally different. I mean, there is that chance, but I just think–baby your mother was Josephine, you're full name is Wilhelmina, and that was like around the time she bailed. Yes, there is always the chance we are super wrong and it is something else, but what if it's not? Did your dad ever say where she went or who she left with?"

I shook my head. "He just said she left. Jimmy's wife was the one that told me, and it was on accident after she had too much wine, remember? But all she even knew what that my mom found some other guy, couldn't handle the responsibility of being a mom, and bailed."

Jonah bit his lip. "You don't remember anything else?"

"No," I said. "Dad never talks about her. He never has."

"Maybe Nana Jones knows something, maybe you should ask."

"Is there more?"

"No."

I closed the phone then set it on the bedside counter before I got up. I could hear the ice clinking in the glass as Jonah took another sip of his drink while I closed the bedroom window then shut the windows tight. "Mina..."

I closed my bedroom door then picked the drink up and took a long sip of it. "My mother..."

"Mina, it could, in all fairness, not be related at all baby," he said. "Or it could be. I think it's worth looking into."

"Why–the sisters?"

"I want more information before we ask. I have a feeling they will shut it down right now. I think we need more ammo before we go in, ya know?"

I started to nod while he pulled me back into bed with him. "I just–ok. Ok fine, I'll ask Nana Jones."

"I'm sorry baby."

I shrugged while I climbed next to him to lay alongside on the pillows. "I mean everything is fücked anyways. My team doesn't trust me–they think I've been seeing you–"

"What?" he asked lowly with a slight growl. "Mina..."

I shrugged again. "I think it's mostly Stevie. I don't know how to get them off my ass. Dad's worried–"

"I'll siren him." Jonah's green eyes held no room for negotiation. "I'll just push him in another direction. You're not going to jail baby."

"Tomorrow during the cookout. I can bring him to the water."

"Ok," he said with a nod before he pressed his lips to mine. "What about the other guy?"

"Be nice..."

"I'm being really nice," Jonah said innocently. "Baby I didn't kill him–I kinda wanted to."

"Jonah Jones..."

"Fine, I will not siren Hank... yet."

"You're horrible."

He shrugged and pushed me on my back then slid his hands up my sides. "And since you're here, I think I'm also thirsty."

"Did you not have any blood?"

He chuckled and crawled between my legs. "Oh I had some–the sisters have bags in their refrigerator. No idea where they get them." He dipped down and playfully bit at my nipple through my shirt before he worked his way down.

"Jonah?"

He shrugged while his fingers toyed with the edges of my boyshorts. "I'm still thirsty baby," he said before he pushed my panties aside so he could bury his face in the place they hid.

I should have told him to go. I should have told him to leave before we got caught. We should wipe everything down, but right now he was wiping the bad memories of today away with his love. Right now there was no place for fear or worry–or thoughts of my mother, a new ghost in my life who I more than feared would continue to haunt me. 

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BUM BUM BUMMM 

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