Chapter 42

A tremor shook through Jazz's body as rain soaked every inch of her clothing, including the PK-9 windbreaker. But the rain had little to do with the way her body was shutting down, a cold chill creeping through each limb until she felt numb all over.

Uncle Pierce stepped onto the loading platform of the Flying Dragon ride. It was the spot where the ride operator usually stood to ensure passengers were secured into the long gondola by the cushioned metal bars that were supposed to encase their arms and waist, along with a seatbelt.

Funny thing, Uncle Pierce wasn't concerned with safety. He'd held his gun on the girl and threatened to shoot her to get Jazz to climb into the seat compartment for two.

Now he bent over the girl in the seat next to Jazz and tied the teen's hands behind her back with pre-cut rope sections he'd apparently brought for the purpose. He'd forced the girl to put duct tape on Jazz's mouth and tie her hands in the History Center, threatening the terrified hostage with the gun until she had tightened the knots to his liking. He'd repeated the same tactic before Jazz slid her feet into the compartment for her legs in the ride, having the girl tie Jazz's ankles together first.

"This is ironic, don't you think? You're going to die at the Tri-City Fair. The place you and Joan loved so much. Maybe there will be some comfort in that for you." His amused grin didn't suggest he cared either way.

It was a good plan, really. The thought came to Jazz's numb brain, devoid of emotion. Kill Jazz and the girl, whoever she was, in a way that looked like another act of hate against the fair. No doubt Uncle Pierce's idea was that the police would think Butch had put them in the ride without being strapped in so they would die, and he could blame it on the fair and the cult.

But the police would find Butch's body. An autopsy would show he'd been choked to death. They would look for a killer.

Judging from Uncle Pierce's gloved hands, and the fact he'd put his hostages on a ride close to the History Center, he was planning to leave without a trace. Get away with another killing without anyone ever suspecting him of the crime.

If Butch had invited Uncle Pierce there to blackmail him, the security supervisor must have shut down the cameras in Sector Three in addition to not scheduling any patrols in that area. Uncle Pierce was smart enough to have figured that out. And realized it meant he could get in and out without anyone knowing.

Except Jazz.

"I guess this is goodbye." Uncle Pierce took a step back and leveled a stare at her. The smile was gone, but in its place was that look of loathing that shook Jazz to her core. "Thirty years too late." He spun and hopped down from the loading platform, disappearing into the sheets of rain.

Lightning lit the sky, allowing her to glimpse his form as he went somewhere closer to the ride on the ground below. Probably going to the controls.

Thirty years. The duration of her life.

A crack of thunder shook the ride. But her life was already crumbling beneath her.

The man she had thought was her ticket to the happiness she'd always longed for hated her. So much that he wanted her dead.

Bile slid up her throat. She swallowed it back before it reached her duct-taped mouth and choked her. How could this be happening?

She'd trusted him. Believed him when he said he wanted to get to know her, that she was family. Thought he accepted her. Loved her.

She'd thought he was claiming her as his own.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. She was supposed to go with Uncle Pierce and finally have a family she belonged to.

But he was playing her. Like the criminals she'd dealt with time and again in her line of work. How had she missed the signs?

She had let him play her like a fiddle, conning her into believing he loved her only to reject her like everyone else in her life.

How could she have trusted someone like him? Someone who murdered Butch without a thought. A man who killed his own wife without even the smallest bit of remorse. And now he was going to kill his niece and an innocent girl.

That was the kind of family Jazz had. She shouldn't even want to belong to a family like that.

Then why did it feel like her heart was being ripped from her chest?

Maybe because it had already been wounded so much. By Hawthorne saying he didn't want her, Nev turning her back, the PK-9 team never accepting her.

Who was Jazz kidding? It hadn't started with them. Her heart had never healed from her dad's rejection either. The constant reminders all her life that she wasn't good enough for him to love. It was the same whether he was home and ridiculing her for everything she did wrong, or he was overseas, gladly leaving her with an aunt and uncle who disliked her as much as he did.

And she'd never healed from that first, possibly worst rejection of all. The one that happened before she could remember but was most deeply embedded in her soul. The mother who didn't want her.

Even she was gone now. Dead. No possibility of an idyllic reunion someday. No chance she'd realize her mistake and want to see her daughter. Want to love Jazz and be part of her life.

The dreams Jazz had never labeled, never recognized in her own heart, imploded all at once, like whatever they'd been built on gave way. The pain of their destruction seared through her body from her stomach to her chest, shooting from there through her arms and legs.

She sucked in air through her nose, closing her eyes against the anguish.

She thought she'd always been alone. But she hadn't tasted utter, stark, desolate loneliness until now. She had absolutely no one. And no hope of someone she could belong with in the future.

Her own family had refused to claim her as their own. No one else ever would.

Nev's sweet face, her dark eyes filled with hurt, rose in Jazz's memory and blocked her vision. "You wouldn't really leave me, would you?" Nev's voice reached her ears—the agonized whisper as she'd asked the question.

Had Nev thought Jazz was rejecting her? Horror at the possibility squeezed Jazz's ribs hard enough it seemed they would crack.

Jazz would never do that to someone else. She knew what it felt like.

But the look on Nev's face, in her eyes, had said differently.

Jazz's stomach churned, sending more nausea upward.

Nev had said Jazz pushed people away first so they wouldn't reject her.

Jazz swallowed hard as she saw it for the first time. Nev was right. And Jazz had pushed Nev away, too. The one person who'd been the closest to family Jazz had ever had. The one person who had accepted Jazz. Loved her.

Nev had been talking about the PK-9 team and Phoenix when she'd said that about Jazz putting up walls. Would those ladies have wanted to be her family? Could Jazz have belonged with them if she'd let them get close to her?

It was her fault.

The awful realization nearly choked her with grief. Maybe she could've belonged in this city, had something like a family, if she hadn't pushed the team away. And she'd put the final touch of doom on the whole thing when she'd stupidly pushed even Nev out of her life. What had she been thinking?

The answer came quickly. She'd wanted the real thing with Hawthorne through a marriage or with Uncle Pierce, her actual relative.

She sure was an idiot to think she'd ever find belonging with either of them.

And now, thanks to her own foolishness, she was totally on her own. No help from PK-9 or Nev to get her out of this mess. Because Jazz had cut them out. She had thought she could handle the situation herself, and she'd already burned all her bridges with PK-9 and Nev by the time Uncle Pierce texted.

Thanks to the way Jazz had rejected them, they wouldn't want to help her now even if they knew the bind she was in.

Another thunderous boom quaked the sky, shaking the ride more than before.

No, that wasn't the thunder. The ride had started. It was beginning the slow swing that would stay horizontal with the ground at first, then lift higher and higher until the upswing turned the long, dragon-shaped gondola vertically and then upside down.

Jazz and the girl would probably fall out at vertical, given that Uncle Pierce had put them in seats at the front end.

Jazz peered down through the rain, trying to see Uncle Pierce. At least it had taken him a while to figure out how to operate the ride. Not that it mattered. No help would come.

A whimper beside her caught her attention.

She looked at the girl in the seat next to her. The girl's straight blond hair was darkened, soaked, and plastered to her head. She puffed air through her nose like she was struggling to breathe, probably thanks to the panic that reflected in her eyes.

Poor kid. Jazz hadn't even been able to get her name or find out what she was doing there. How had she gotten involved in this mess?

If Jazz hadn't been so blindsided by Uncle Pierce being the real kidnapper, she probably could've freed the girl. And herself.

But the shock had numbed her brain as she'd tried to process what was happening. And the few times she had thought of using her knife or martial arts on him later, she couldn't do it. She couldn't hurt her own uncle, her only living family member.

What a moron. Everything was lost, and she was still trying to hang on to some hope. Some dream that she could belong with Uncle Pierce someday if she kept him alive. When would she get it?

No one wanted her. She would never belong with anyone.

Even as she reminded herself of the truth, her heart squeezed in protest and a rebellious hope at the back of her mind said it couldn't be true.

Was she really so desperate that she'd rather believe she had a chance with a murderer than believe no one would ever want her?

Yes, she was. She knew because she didn't care that the gondola was swinging wider and higher. She knew because she didn't care she'd fall to her death soon, and it would all be over. She'd rather have that than keep living this painful, lonely life, unwanted and unclaimed by the world.

The world. What was it Cora had said in that quote from the Bible? It was one Jazz thought she had heard at church when her aunt and uncle had taken her. And seen on billboards sometimes. Something about God loving the world so much that He gave His Son to give people eternal life.

Did that mean He might love Jazz? She wasn't even sure He existed, so it was a pointless question.

But her mind worked to recall the other Bible quote anyway, the one she'd seen written in Cora's perfect calligraphy. The one that had creeped her out in a way.

She tried to remember why as the gondola swung high enough for her stomach to lift a bit on the downward plummet.

That was it. The quote had said, You are mine.

She didn't know why she'd thought that was creepy. Wasn't that exactly what she wanted? Someone to love her so much that they wanted to claim her as their own?

She tried hard to picture the other words swirled on the notecard. Fear not, thensomething about being redeemed, and…I have called you by name.

What was left of her broken heart ached at the words.

Cora often called God her father. What would it be like to have a father to call Jazz by name and claim her as his own family? It would be…heaven.

I want that. Her lips tried to form the words before she remembered they were taped shut. Could she talk to God without speaking? She hoped so, because with the gondola swinging higher, this would be her last chance.

God, if You can hear me this way, can You tell me if I can be Yours? Can You call me by name and want to keep me and love me? I want to belong to You. Forever. I want to be loved by You like Nev says You love her and take care of her. Nobody else wants me, God.

Hot tears tumbled from her eyes, mingling with the rain that already soaked her cheeks. Nev says even if we've messed up, You'll forgive us if we ask and believe in You.

So I'm asking, God. I pushed everyone away who might've loved me because I was scared. I was stupid and wrong. And now I'm paying for it. And this poor girl beside me is paying for it.

I'm so sorry, God. Will You please forgive me?

Wind blew stronger in her face as the gondola swung upward.

I'm probably about to die. I want to go to heaven and be with You, because Nev says You love perfectly. She says You're like the best Dad anyone could imagine, and You never let Your kids go. I should've listened to her before. It didn't seem real.

But you said, "You are mine." Please, let that be true for me, God.

A bolt of lightning split the sky, touching down somewhere in the distance.

The roll of thunder followed within a second.

Was that God answering?

Nev would've snorted if she'd heard Jazz ask that question out loud.

Jazz didn't really think it was. But a feeling inside drew her attention instead. The pain situated in her chest, where her heart had shattered into a million pieces, started to lessen.

Something shifted within, then a rush of sensation seemed to pour into her, as if the rain that had soaked her body from the outside was now flowing through her. The sensation reached even her fingertips and toes.

And it left her feeling like she never had before. She couldn't describe it.

But she knew she was different. And she knew, through a warm confidence that seemed to be rebuilding her heart, that God had heard her. That He'd said yes. He'd said, You are mine to her, Jazz Lamont.

The wonder of it made her forget where she was for a blissful, achingly beautiful moment as tears of joy ran with raindrops down her cheeks.

Then a wail from the girl beside her brought Jazz back to feel the vertical rise of the gondola and the pull of gravity, tugging her upper body forward.

The gondola plunged back down, lurching her stomach into the air.

One or two more swings upward, and she and the girl would fall. There was no way they would survive the headfirst drop from their height onto the metal supports below.

If Jazz could get her arms in front of her, she could grab her knife at her ankle and cut their ropes so they could try to climb down somehow. But there wasn't enough room in the small compartment to attempt the challenge of pulling her long legs between her arms so her wrists would be in front.

Unless help came, this was going to be it for her and the girl.

And help wouldn't come.

She'd seen to that when she'd pushed away Nev and the PK-9 team, not telling them anything about Uncle Pierce's call. They couldn't come even if they wanted to.

And even Nev, with her new Christian values, probably wouldn't be able to forgive Jazz for wanting to leave her. Hopefully, someday, Nev would remember how much Jazz had loved her and try to forget how things had fallen apart at the end.

Jazz would dearly love to have seen Flash and said goodbye. Someone would find him in the parking lot. He was probably barking now, wondering where she was and wanting to get out.

Grief caught in her throat. But Nev would take care of him. She wouldn't let any bad feelings she might have for Jazz keep her from caring for Flash.

Clinging to that comfort, Jazz clenched her calves tighter to the seat, trying to stop the pull of gravity as the gondola climbed even higher.

She and the girl barely stayed in.

Jazz tried to breathe as the gondola plummeted toward the earth.

One more swing, and they'd be done.

I guess I'm going to see You pretty soon, God. The thought didn't scare her the way it would've a few minutes ago.

It actually felt like it could be a good thing. That it might feel like coming home to be welcomed by the dad she'd always dreamed of.

Jazz closed her eyes as the gondola began another upward ascent. And she remembered His promise. I have called you by name. You are mine.