Page 117 of The Eleventh Hour

River blinks, looking shocked. “Phil, what the fuck, man? Whatever it is, it will be okay. We can fix it. It’s not worth fucking murdering for, not worth dying for.”

“You don’t understand. How could you, with your perfect lives? He knows everything!”

“Who is he?” I ask desperately.

Phil casts a despairing look at me. “I don’t know. Fuck, I thought you were working with him. I was going to use you to blackmail him into letting me go and leaving me alone. Especially when I got your message. It was perfect.”

A perfect trap.

River looks at me with his eyes wide. “Do you know how she grew up?” He throws a wild hand at me. “Daughter of a junkie, Phil. Outcast because, have you met my mother? Fiancée to a serial killer who ruined her life? She doesn’t have a perfect life.”

Phil blinks, and then scowls fiercely. “Not my problem.”

The longer this goes on, the stronger my resolve is. Perhaps a quick bullet wouldn’t be so bad. And then I can be with Gideon. It will be over so fast, and I’m so tired of being scared.

“Who is blackmailing you?” I ask in a tone that sounds almost bored.

Phil gives me a strange look. “Knowing who is blackmailing you kinda takes the fun out of the blackmail.” The sarcasm hits me hard.

I snigger, and to my surprise, his lips curl in a smile.

He wipes at his eyes, and I realise he’s crying.

“It’s okay, Phil,” I say evenly.

He shakes his head and lifts the gun. Training it back on me.

“He said to tell you…he said, twilight in the sky, laughter in the air, and you, Jojo. The man who rang, who…he said…I have to tell you!” Phil screams, his face turning red. “He said; We’re home, Jojo, back where we promised we’d never be. Let’s give ‘em hell.”

Louis smiles down at me and puts his bloody fingers in his mouth. “God, you taste good. We’re going home, Jojo. Back to where we promised we’d never be. Let’s give 'em hell. Just twilight, our laughter in the air, and you.” He pulls his fingers out of his mouth and pushes them back inside the wound on my thigh. Even as I scream louder than I ever have.

The blood in my head has left, but the world is swirling painfully. The words Phil just said are loud in my head. But I hear his voice; Louis. Oh, my god, he’s alive. He’s alive. I killed him. But he’s alive.

The gun wavers, pointed straight at me. “I’m not allowed to kill you, but I’m going to make you hurt,” Phil says tightly. I can barely hear him over Rivers’ shouts.

“Phil, please, I’m begging you-” River screams.

I see movement out of the corner of my eye just before the lights explode. A second later, the bang of the gun echoes so loudly I think it sounds like a cannon. I fly backwards, propelled by fear and shock. Smashing hard into the car behind me.

“Oh, god, oh, god, please, god. Please. Fuck. Jackie!” River is hysterical, like I’ve never ever heard him. And it’s that and that alone that pulls me out of the shock that I’m in. I roll to my knees and stagger forward before I hit something warm and soft.

I lean down just as the lights come back on.

Mason lies on the ground, staring up at me. He swallows convulsively and tries to speak, but blood bubbles appear at his lips.

“Mason!” I scream. I reach out and put my hand over the wound, anything to keep the life force inside him. The blood is so hot and wet. Mason, the boy I crushed on for half my life, the boy I thought, if life was less cruel, I would end up with. Mason, the man my father trusts, the one who always, always picked me up and swung me around. He’s family. He’s family. Oh, god.

River shouts, and I realise he’s on the phone. I don’t know where Phil is; I don’t care. I just keep my hand pressed to that wound.

“Mase, fucking hell. Mason, you stay with me, you hear me? You stay,” I sob and lean over him, pressing my face against his neck before I straighten up and sniff.

River slides to a stop beside me and looks Mason over frantically. They’re like brothers. I know how they play their games, pretending not to care, but they love each other. He is a part of us.

“You can’t die, Mason,” I order again.

His chest jerks, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. Those beautiful hazel eyes. What if I’d chosen him? What if I’d stayed with him? Why couldn’t I feel that way about him when it counted?

His eyes flicker open, and I almost jerk my hand away.

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