Chapter Sixty-Four

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What I wanted to do was probably—definitely—something Jameson would not want me to do. I turned my body back to face Jameson and bit my lip, considering how to ask the question about going to a jail cell.

"Oh no," Jameson spoke before I even decided on how to word my ridiculous inquest.

"What?" I asked, surprised that he had already found fault in my question that I hadn't even asked yet.

"You're about to beg me to let you leave  this hall, right?" Jameson groaned and I raised my eyebrows, shocked that he would pick up on that just by me turning around to face him.

"Don't look amazed; you're an open book, and it's better I be direct because you're so stubborn that this argument could go on forever." I gasped at the insult he made which only earned me an amused smile from Jameson.

I grimaced as I thought of what to say, "Actually.." I looked up to see Jameson raise an eyebrow at me.

"This could take a little longer than forever, you'll never let me go." I sighed and Jameson chuckled.

"How bad is it?" He asked and I shook my head in response.

"Bad." I pursed my lips before continuing, I lifted up my head to begin to plead Jameson to let me go. "I want to go to the jail cells–"

"No." All joke and banter had quickly left the heavy air that seemed to put even more weight on my shoulders.

I began to protest when Jameson cut me off, "You're not going to visit Angela's killer." The thought of doing that shocked me more than the assumption Jameson was making that I would actually want to do that. Then again, it wasn't far off from what I actually wanted to do, and it wouldn't be a bad thing if we just happened to see that vile creep too.

I shook my head, "That's not who I want to see." The stress lines on Jameson's only showed up more prominent when his face expression conveyed confusion, and then his expression turned weary.

"I want to see Harry." I told him, adamant of what I wanted to do. Jameson held back no emotion as I saw bursts of all kinds in his eyes: confusion, surprise, despair, and the forbiddance of me acting on my request, that I could sense most of all.

"Why?" Jameson was hesitant with his response and I counted myself lucky that I hadn't got another 'no' again.

"I want to ask him why he did it, why he lied about it. Don't you?" I asked, though not pausing for an answer.

"I want to know what he knows, he told me that someone was controlling him, but who? And who's controlling this person? Jameson, there are so many things we could learn from this." My voice was almost desperate as I tried to list as many advantages to visiting Jameson's ex-friend in jail as possible.

Jameson stayed silent, but I could see that my reasons had an effect on him. He didn't look too sure on what he wanted to do, but I knew one thing about him, one thing that I'm fairly sure we have in common—he likes to know what's coming. It's probably a common thing in guardians, the need for information, so allowing them then to plan and calculate a way out of a situation.

I was about to beg again, when Jameson nodded slightly. I wasn't too sure if that meant a 'yes' or 'no' until he confirmed it.

"Let's go, I can get us out." Was all he said as he stood up. It was then that I noticed that our hands were entwined and I made no signal that I wanted to part from his touch. Jameson swerved in and out of the crowd, winding us through whatever gaps we could get through in order to get to the exit.

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