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(XLII.) - Part One

Long chapter.
Anyway, have fun. :)
*****

A cat? A talking cat?

Just then, a figure appeared in her field of vision. She breathed out a sigh of relief unconsciously. Her life already had too much drama, she didn't want to have another freaky experience.

"Who are you?"

She looked up. It was a man in his late thirties. His long, light brown hair was held back in a small ponytail. Though his eyes were narrowed into thin slits, she could make out their colour. They were bright grassy green. He was tall and plump, not muscular, not lean. Wearing a plaid shirt and trousers.

"I'm Jessica," she finally replied.

"I don't know any Jessica," he said curtly.

She angled her head. "You will know one soon. I want to talk to you right now. It's very important."

He eyed her up and down slowly. Not in a leering way. And huffed.

She rolled her eyes.

He stepped aside to let her in.

The foyer was a small space that led to the living room through an archway. The living room itself was sparsely furnished. Television, a couch and two armchairs, a stool, and a DVD player. No pictures hung on the walls, except for the large portrait of a white wolf. It was so beautiful, it almost made the room radiate.

Jonathan was a simple guy, from the look of things.

"What do you want?" Again, he crossed his arms. He was sitting on the couch, while she sat on one of the armchairs facing him.

"Answers."

His eyes went wide briefly, then returned to normal. "I'm not a prophet," he said blandly.

She huffed. "I know you're not a quark psychic that does all the palm reading and tarot cards."

"What do you know about me?" His voice held caution. Loads of it.

She pursed her lips and waited for a second. "We have a common enemy. Or, rather, a common group of enemies. The people hunting me are also hunting you."

He frowned. "How sure are you about that?"

"Because I was almost killed the same way Phillip Bryce died."

This time, his hard exterior cracked. His jaw dropped. "You... You... You shouldn't know about Phillip."

"But I do. He was kidnapped by his driver and killed. They didn't demand for ransom, did they?"

He hung his head.

"They're back, Jonathan. I don't know who they are. Which is why I need help from you. If you can at least, give me a hint on what they stand for or why they do this, we might be able to put them down."

He jerked his head up. "We? What do you mean 'we'? I'm not working with an over-thinking teenager on how to bring down a group of unknown killers."

Jess sighed. "I don't expect you to agree with everything I say. But I just want a way out of this mess. Don't you?"

Jonathan didn't say anything. He rubbed his hands on his thighs.

"I know you do. And I don't care if we've been strangers before now, but this common ground is enough to make us reason together."

He rubbed a hand across his face, sighing heavily. "What you're saying, Jessica... I can't involve myself in this. No matter what."

"They'll come for you—"