One More Troubled Soul

Fifteen-Baby, You're A Classic

Courtney's P.O.V.

Jade has been gone for nearly ten minutes now. I asked her to go find where they put Patrick. I watched them walk him down the hall, so I'm sure they stuck him in one of the rooms. And if they locked the door, she's trained well enough to know how to get it open.

So what's taking her? I wondered as I paced in my office. She was never one to give me an easy time. She always had to stick a barb in my plans, but this is surely ridiculous. I pushed my fingers through my messed up hair in frustration and squeezed my eyes shut.

They did as promised. They got Adira back for me. But then they poured some of the truth out when they said I could stay and watch the rest of the procedure I had asked for. I wanted a way to keep her safe, and they gave me an option that I took without hesitation.

Now I'm wondering if I should've thought it through a bit. Was it really a good idea? I chewed on my nail and walked to the shelves behind my desk, looking at the photos I stuck up.

There was Adira the day she came home at age eight, pigtails in her brown hair that had only reached her shoulder blades then, a smile as wide as my own as she held tight to my hand. There was Adira on her tenth birthday, her first guitar in her lap with the bow still stuck to the neck as she stared at it with excitement and joy. There was Adira at age thirteen singing her heart out at her first little gig I set up for her in the backyard. Friends and family had come to watch her concert, and it was an amazing experience for her and myself. I hadn't known what she was capable of until that day.

I sighed and turned from the framed memories to come face to face with a pair of pitch black eyes. A choked cry ripped from my mouth and I stumbled back into the bookshelf, knocking over some of the photos. My heartbeat was racing a mile a minute, and it started going even faster when I actually took in the blonde haired, black eyed boy that stood in front of me.

"J-james?" I whispered in disbelief.

He smiled, though not in the kind, shy way he had always done so. This time it was more like a fuck you smirk accented with the fangs poking out from under is top lip. "Hey, Love." His voice was as smooth as chocolate with a large helping of venom.

I shuddered and tried to make my way down the wall from the bookcase. "H-hey there, James." If he slammed into me, I'd at least hit something flat. I wasn't expecting him to stay put, and he didn't.

He stepped with me and I stopped where I was, never taking my wide eyes from his face. He brushed his blonde bangs from his black eyes and leaned in. I slid down the wall a bit so he couldn't come too close. But he just propped an arm above my head and braced his other hand next to my head. As he drew close, I turned my face away at an angle.

His smile grew and I squeezed my eyes shut as his breath brushed against my cheek. "So," he whispered in my ear. It took everything in me not to scream. "Where's Patrick, Love?

Joe's P.O.V.

It was a huge relief when Patrick was shoved into the room we had hidden in. I mean, it scared me to death thinking we had been found when that door had opened. But it only stayed open long enough for him to be pushed in. Now, it was my job to pick the lock again. And once we're out, we'll go find Adira and leave.

But what about Jamie? I thought to myself as I crouched in front of the door. I heard her scream before that chick grabbed me and threatened my tounge if I made a sound. But she hadn't been tied up with us in the room.

I glanced over my shoulder, remembering now that Andy had been in the bus when she had screamed. "Hey, Andy!" I called in a hushed voice. The drummer came over with his hands in his pockets and a questioning look. As he knelt beside me and asked what was up, I eyed the keyhole before sticking the pin in and wiggling it around. "Do you have any clue what happened to Jamie? You had been in the bus with her before we all ended up here."

Andy's blank expression grew grim and he rubbed a hand along his beard uncertainly. "Joe...." he trailed off and waved a hand in a never mind gesture. "No, you wouldn't go for it."

There was a click as I got the door unlocked. I didn't call Pete over from where he stood in the corner with Patrick and Dawson, though. I stood up and crossed my arms, staring down at Andy. "What do you mean?"

Andy sighed and stood. "I mean you'd call me paranoid or ask if I have screw loose."

Okay, what does this have to do with Jamie? "C'mon, Andy. Just tell me. I want to know where she is and if she's alright."

Andy sighed again and cast a quick look at the three others across the room before leaning in. "Joe, I think Jamie is one of them."

Surprise, disbelief, and a bit of anger ran through me. I've known Jamie since before the summer of 2001. I wouldn't call her a childhood friend, but she could come pretty close. An accusation like this just didn't suit her. I'm sure I would've known if Jamie had been apart of some music destroying cult. Andy's gaze pleaded with me, begged me not to fly off the handle at this wild thought. I blew out a breath because that's all that this was: a thought. "What makes you think so?"

He squinted like he was trying to remember what had happened. "I don't know if it was her because it had been too dark. I only know there was a woman and when I questioned her, she ran away. I followed after and she attacked me and-" he cut off abruptly as realization flooded his face. Realization, and reluctance to tell it.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to meet my gaze, which I'm sure was none too nice to see. "What, Andy!? What happened?!"

Andy's mouth flopped like a fishes for a bit before he finally sighed. He placed a hand on my own shoulder and said softly, "You know that perfume she makes? Something that smells like the fruity cereals?"

I groaned and my grip slackened. Jamie's not one for buying her perfumes. She likes to make them and get the scent she wants, which most likely never exists in any stores. I held my head in my hands and shook my head slowly back and forth. "Please." I whispered into my fingers. "Please tell me you're imagining it, Andy."

It was a good thirty seconds of my face hidden from view and hopelessly hopeful feelings pressing against my chest before Andy's hushed reply that sent my heart crashing. From pain, from anger, from my own blindness. My stupidity and now doubt. Who was the girl I had known for all these years? Had it all been an act?

"No. I'm sorry, Joe. It was her." Another pause for a shorter amount of time. "She's against us. Probably has been for as long as this group has existed."