Page 35 of The Eleventh Hour

“They didn’t believe me. No one believed me. There was evidence that pointed at me. Twenty missing people, a friend of mine, Valerie Jean, had gone missing three days earlier. They were convinced I had something to do with it, that I helped Louis. That he was the serial killer the press has dubbed the Black Dahlia killer. The one who mutilates bodies and leaves them on display, the killer who leaves a blood soaked dahlia on every one of his victims.”

I snort and look away.

“It was preposterous. It was insane. I would have known if he was a killer. I argued, I fought. But I’d been mugged the night before, and I had bruises on me, and that was more evidence. I had a breakdown, I think on day four, and they sent me off to the psych ward for nine months. When I got out, I made my way here, trying to track down any information that I could.”

“Why?” Dane asks.

A flash of frustrated fury surges through me, and I take a long, slow breath. “Because it ruined my life. I will go to my grave with people believing that I was somehow involved, that I somehow knew. Do you have any idea how it feels to be tarred with the brush of someone else’s actions? It wasn’t Louis’ face in the newspapers, it was mine! I want to find proof, I have to.” The sound of my voice trails off, leaving a heavy silence.

The warehouse has been converted into an expensive-looking home. Lots of natural wood bookshelves filled with books. Stainless steel appliances. The couch I’m sitting on is white leather and butter soft. There’s no way they are renting this.

Rafael pulls open his pocket and sets a pair of glasses on his nose. It just enhances the hot geek vibe he’s got going. I watch him out of the corner of my eye curiously.

“All right, so, you are looking for redemption to clear your name. So, tell us how you met.”

I purse my lips and ignore Dane. It’s the way he’s saying things that are annoying me. Like he doesn’t believe me, like I’m a bad person.

“You’re judging me for being with him, aren’t you?” I say flatly. “It’s okay, everyone does. I must be sick, I must be disturbed, I must be fucked up!”

Dane scowls but doesn’t deny it. I can feel Rafael frozen on the couch, staring at both of us. It hurts that Dane feels like this, and I don’t even know why. He’s a stranger. I look away from both of them, staring at the polished marble bench tops.

“I don’t blame you. I’d probably judge me, too. My mother died of an overdose when I was nine. I was sent to live with my father, but his world is so different from mine, and every day, all I would hear was the arguments between him and his new wife.” My leg won’t stop bouncing, so I stand up and move around. “I had no friends at school. I kept mostly to myself because, well, I’m sure a psychologist would say that I was suffering from some kind of trauma from my mother dying. She was a good mum, she just couldn’t help herself. She never hit me. I always had food. She hired babysitters. But she was an addict. A functional addict. It wasn’t a traumatic childhood. But I couldn’t seem to be a happy, carefree kid who made friends. Then in high school, I couldn’t bring myself to care about anything.”

“You don’t have to tell us this,” Rafael says huskily.

“Yes, I do. Because I met Louis because I took a chance on a new girl and became friends with her, I didn’t realise it was a test. I had no idea it was like a hazing prank. She had to get close and embarrass me in the most awkward way possible. Louis stopped her. He was a quiet loner, all gold and handsome, untouchable. He stepped in close to the girl, whispered something, and she turned white and ran. She changed schools a week later. Louis didn’t talk to me again for a year. But I watched him, and he watched me.”

Dane flops down on the couch. “How does this help us?”

I count to five in my head and unclench my hands. “Louis is patient. He’s prepared to wait for the right moment. Nothing he does is an afterthought.”

“What happened to the girl?” Dane asks suddenly.

“What?” I narrow my eyes at him.

“The bully? What happened to her?”

“She, uh, died. Suicide.”

Dane mutters something, and my eyes widen as the realisation rolls through my brain.

“No!” I moan and drop my head in my hands and sit heavily on the couch opposite the one I was sitting on. “No, he didn’t. Oh, god, is there no end to this insanity?”

Rafael stands up and sits on the coffee table and looks at me. “I think we found his weakness.”

I look up through eyes clouded with tears. “What?”

“I think the only thing that could have brought him down was his one true weakness. I think maybe that’s you, Jax.”

I shake my head. “There is no way. I’m not a weakness. I’m just his idea of a joke.”

“No, no. Hear me out. He protected you. Louis Falcon pursued you. He courted and won you. I think you might be the only thing in the world he cares about enough to protect. I think you were his heart, and he was determined to protect it.”

“Louis didn’t have a heart!” I snap. “God, that sounds cold. Reduce half my life to a possession of a madman.” It’s nauseating.

“Whatever happened to undo him and send him into hiding, it must have been big. So the question is…are you still his heart?”

I stand up and pace. “He won’t come for me,” I mutter.

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