Page 106 of The Eleventh Hour

“I’m going to nail you, and it will be the finest day of my career. You don’t deserve to live. You’re fucking scum,” Detective Descario shouts.

I look away from her in disgust to find Wayland studying me with a blank look. He hauls her to the car and slams the door closed before marching back to me. I step back, but he grips my wrist in a bone-grinding hold and yanks me closer.

“I don’t know if you’re innocent or not. Frankly, I don’t care. I don’t like you, Jackie. I think you don’t care about people and you enjoy the attention too much. But I also think there might be a lot we aren’t seeing, a lot you keep behind that mask, so I’m going to give you this warning, just one.” Wayland leans closer. “Louis is here, and he’s making his comeback, and from all of what we can see, you are going to be a key player. Everything revolves around you. If you don’t want to go down for this…maybe cross those state lines and keep going or pick the side you’re destined to be on. We both know you’re his. Why do you keep denying it? Just kneel for your king and go down with him.”

I shudder at the violence in his voice. “I can’t, Wayland. I’m as trapped here as you two are.” His fingers grind my wrist bones as I whisper back. “And I’ll never kneel for anyone, even Louis.”

“Then god help you because we won’t.” He licks his lips, and his eyes get even colder. “Louis sent us a gift, three fingers that belong to Martha. That’s whose pain and suffering we all have to carry. A pious woman’s innocent screams. May they haunt your nightmares the way they do mine.” Wayland thrusts my wrist away from him and turns on his heel, stalking back towards the unmarked car, where he gets into the passenger seat. I close the door but wait until I hear them drive away.

Information is buzzing in my head, and I feel sick thinking about all the things I need to do. All the pieces that don’t gel together yet.

There’s a party at the Red Shard tonight, and Titan went to see Sparrow. Was it Titan with Sparrow? I try to focus my mind, but I can’t be certain. It might have been.

Martha’s fingers.

I rush to the sink and vomit up the coffee I drank earlier.

It’s not Louis. I keep telling them it’s not him. It has to be a copycat. But who? Who knows that much information? And why does it feel like my ex?

I sink to the floor, trembling, violent flashbacks of a life I used to have slam into me.

This victim, Martha, is looking a whole lot like another victim, one the cops never realised was one of his. A victim who had no relation to me, other than the fact her husband asked me on a date. I kept the knowledge of that connection to myself. They never could find what tied him to me.

I stand up, rinse my mouth out, and then let my legs fold again, carrying me to the floor. I lean against the cool cupboards. It’s not Louis. I know it’s not, so how does this person know so much about his crimes?

I let out a whimper.

I need to tell them the truth. Even if I lose them over it.

Jax

Dane and Rafe get back a few hours later, but I’m still sitting on the kitchen floor. I look up when I see Dane crouch in front of me.

“Dane,” I say tiredly and wrap my fingers in his shirt, pulling him close.

Rafe sits on the floor beside us and squeezes my free hand.

“What’s the matter, Jax?”

I lick my dry lips and look at my hand on his shirt. “I need to tell you something, and it’s going to sound crazy. But I need it to be dark.”

Dane frowns but pulls himself free of me so he can lower the roller shutters. As soon as it’s dark enough, Gideon appears.

“What’s this about?” Rafe asks gently. His fingers haven’t stopped stroking up and down my thigh.

“I,” I pause because I don’t even know how to start, and I’m sitting on the kitchen floor in the dark with two men I’m in love with and the ghost I’m pretty sure I’m in a relationship with.

“Start with what happened today.”

I talk softly, going through every moment of their visit, but before they can ask me questions, I take a deep breath and say something that makes the room go completely still.

“I know where Louis is. I’ve always known where he is.”

Three sets of disbelieving eyes.

I almost chicken out, but I need to tell them. I need them to believe me.

“I know…because I, well, I followed him one day. When he disappeared just before the cops came for me, I’d followed him so far out into the countryside. I don't know what it was that made me suspicious, his possessive behaviour combined with a joy when he had to go on a ‘conference’, I guess. Either way, I had this urge to follow him. So I did.”

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