56

My heart is racing in my chest as we leaveHenrik'shouse.

I'mno stranger to watching people find out their family members have met a tragic end—one of the many shitty things about being a cop. But watching it happen to Jackson makes my heart feel likeit'shaving the life stamped out of it.

His eyes are dark, but it's not the gloss of animal power that I'm used to seeing there. It's cold and deadened, just like Henrik's body.

We move quickly. Once Henrik is found, there will be cops sniffing all over here, and wecan'tbe sighted.There'stoo much heat on us already.

Jacksonisn'tspeaking. I can see the calculationsgoing onbehind his eyes, but I need him to tell me whathe'sthinking.

Back in the car, Jackson reaches out to start the engine.

I press my hand to his arm. His body tenses when I make contact."What'sgoing on Jackson? Whataren'tyou telling me?"

His jaw is set tight with tension as he exhales.

He reaches out his hand.For amomentI thinkhe'sgoing to touch me, but he unfurls his fist.The crushed note that he slipped fromHenrik'spocket is lying there like another dead body.

I'mtrembling as I pick up the wrinkled paper, smoothing it out so I can read the words.

"The detective is next,"I read. I swallow, my throat suddenly tight."Does… does that mean me?"

My brain is whirring into motion, detective mode taking over. Who could have done all this? Is someone targeting the two of us? But why, and who?

Jackson nods."Yes."His voice is a bitter growl."And I know who did this to Henrik."

I open my mouth to ask him who, but the words never come out. A sound in the distance cuts them off.

My spine stiffens.It'sa sound that used to make my blood pump with anticipation and excitement, a sound that used to feel like home. But not anymore.

Sirens.

They'rewailing somewhere blocks away, gradually getting louder. Idon'tknow ifthey'recoming for Henrik, maybeit'sjust a coincidence. But it suddenly feels like this is the most dangerous place we could beright now.

"Let'sget out of here,"I mutter."You can tell me more on the way home."

Jacksondoesn'tmeet my eye. Something is wrongbutit suddenly feels like an invisible barrier has gone up between us.

His hands grip the steering wheel as he hits the gasandthe car surges forward, leaving Henrik far behind us. My pulse starts to calm as the sirens fade into the distance again.

Maybe it was a coincidence after all.We'renot the only criminals in this city, after all.

Out of nowhere, a car pulls out in front of us and skids to a halt, blocking our path.It'snot a standard cop car,it'sa slightly battered gray modelthat Irecognize in a second.

Jackson slams on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt. I yelp, grabbing the handle to steady myself.

"You okay?" he asks, his hand protectively reaching out to my face.

I nod, but Idon'tturn to look back at Jackson.

Because through the windshield,I'mlooking intothe eyes of my bossdown the barrel of his gun.

For the last few years, allI'vecared about in the world was two things. Trying to fight for alittlejustice in theworld,and the approval of Captain Jim Hawkins.

Nowhe'sstanding in this narrow street, gripping his gun.The gunthat'spointed at me. His car is abandoned with the door still openfeetbehind him as he steps closer toward us.

"Hands where I can see them! Get out of the car slowly and keep your hands up."

I'mfrozen in my seat.

"Do it now!"Hawkins yells.

"It'sokay, Ava,"Jackson murmurs.The sound of hisvoice breaks through my panic, and we both slowly step out of the car with our hands raised.

A few months ago,the expression onHawkins'faceright now would have been enough to send me into a breakdown.There'sfury in his eyes, a storm of rage and disappointment. The kind of disappointment you only feel when someone you love hasjuststabbed you straight in the back.

"Stay exactly where you are."He grabs the radio at his hip."Dispatch, this is Captain Hawkins at the intersection of West Street and Washington Avenue. Need immediate backup, sends units ASAP."

My pulse is crashing in my ears. We only have ahandful ofminutes until more cops are on the scene. I glance at Jackson; his face is coldbutthere'sno sign of panic. For a fleeting second, he meets my eyes. The meaning conveyed is clear. Stay calm. Trust me.

I look back to Hawkins."Sir—"

"Don'ttry to talk your way out of this, Cain,"he interrupts."I'vehad enough of your lies. I ordered surveillance onKeller"sresidence and saw you leaving the premises with him."

There's a wild, frenzied edge to Hawkins' stare. I've never seen him like this before. He's usually so buttoned up and gruff; this crack in his temperament is filling my stomach with dread.

"We"vereceived intel from a confidential source. He told me everything and provided substantial evidence."He glances between the two of us."You two have been working together this whole time, from theverystart of the Hyde killings."

What?

My stomach drops.

Who would feed Hawkins this lieandhow would they have evidence of something thatisn'teven true?

I risk a quick glimpse at Jackson's face, there's a flicker of confusion. He doesn't know what or who Hawkins is talking about either.

"This isn't true, Captain," I say. "Who's your source? Whoever it is, he's lying to you."

"You were involved in all the murders ofHyde'svictims,"Hawkins continues, ignoring me."You killed or orchestrated the killing of your foster brother. And you killed Fields. A cop, one of your own damn team."

You're broken, Ava.

My fosterfather'swords ring in my ears as my once-beloved boss lists all my supposed crimes.

"It isn't true," I yell out.

My heart is thumping hard against my ribs. I want to scream more pleas of my innocence, but something is stopping me. Ididn'tkill any of those people, butI'vefallen in love with the man who did. Andwhat'sworse, I understand exactly why he killed all of them. Ican'tdefend myowninnocence while throwing Jackson into the jaws of the law.

"You were my most promising young detective, Cain. Why would you throw it all away? Did he offer you money?"Hawkins"face grows dark."Or did you just fall under his spell?"

A sob wracks my chest. I try to hold it back.

Hawkins turns to Jackson, brandishing his gun."And you, Dr Keller. I trusted you. How could you hide what kind of man you really are like that? Pretending to be an upstanding citizen while killing all those people in cold blood?"

Jacksondoesn'tlook fazed. My stomach twists as his expression turns to a darksmirk,with zero warmth behind it."Idon'tknow whatyou'retalking about, Captain. I advise you to put down your weapon, get into your car, and drive away."

Hawkins glares at Jackson."Like hell will I let you walk away. Not this time."

We'retrapped. Hawkins has a gun, and by the look on his face,he'sready to use it if he needs to. The only thing we can do is let Hawkins arrest us and…

And what? Argue our innocence? Jackson killed those people. With enough scrutiny, the truth will come out. I have to face the fact that Jackson will always lead a life outside the safety of the law, and if I want to be by hissidethenthat'sthe life I have to leadas well.

Jackson'seyes flit to mine. A rush of understanding passes between us like electricity.

Maybethat'swhat love really is. Knowing someone so well that from theoutsideit looks like telepathy.

His eyes return to Hawkins."Whenyou'rediscussing this in the meeting with your boss,don'tleave out the part when I tried to give you the easy way out."

Hawkins frowns. "What meeting?"

Jackson'slips twitch into a cold smile."The meeting where you tell him how you let me escape."

Now.

"Hawkins!"I scream at the top of my lungs.

He turns toward me in a second of distracted shock.

Jackson is too fast for him. He lunges at Hawkins, grabbing the gun and twisting it out of his hand. Hawkins falters a split second too long.There'sjust enough time for shock to reach his face before Jackson grabs his head and rams it into the brick wall behind him.

Hawkins crumples, groaning.

"Don't kill him!" I scream at Jackson.

Jackson'seyes rise to meet mine.They'refull of dark fireandit takes my breath away. This man really was made to kill.

"Fine." He lets Hawkins' half-conscious body slump to the ground. "You're right. We don't need any more bodies left in our wake."

We quickly get back into the carandJackson drives away. I watchHawkins'body on the ground until we turn the corner. I bite my lip, guilt rising up in my chest until it feels likeI'mhalfway to drowning.

Someone murdered Henrik Lund. Someone is accusing both of us ofJackson'smurders and has provided evidence that has convinced Hawkins. Everything is rising to a fever pitch.

My eyes flit between Jackson and the rearview mirror.

I need answers.

"Tell me who wrote that note and threatened to kill me next."

His jaw clenches. His eyes are glossed over with blackness as he glances at me.

"It was me, Ava. It was me."