25. Jax

Jax

S parrow arrives as the detectives are leaving. In fact, I'm sure Descario must have timed it so they'd be here when the doctor showed up. Now that I'm more awake to everything, I catch the look of wrath he sends Descario's way. Doctor Sparrow is freshly showered and wearing a dark blue shirt with a tie with horizontal stripes. I peer at him as he stalks closer, trying to see Louis in him.

I'd know if it was him, wouldn't I?

Maybe the last several years of talking about Louis have been to try and get me to say something, admit something. I struggle to think, but he's so close, and the harder I look and can't see a shred of Louis, the more I panic.

He stops right in front of me. I examine the slightly over-large nose with the blackheads, the excessive fat around his chin, the way his eyes are dull brown, the grey hairs, and receding hairline. I can't see Louis in him, and that scares me because what if he is Louis and I have no idea? Will he kill me? Is this his plan? Revenge for what I did? What would Louis do?

Then again, did I really know him at all? How can I predict the actions of a madman that killed more than twenty people without my knowledge?

"Take a seat, Jackie."

I shift my weight from foot to foot. My shoulders are tight, but I force myself to relax and sit down .

"So, we've got a lot to talk about today, haven't we?"

"We do?"

"Well, I've just been informed that Jacob Keylore is one of Louis' best friends from school."

I peer at him, feeling my stomach drop. "How?"

"Never you mind how. Tell me about Keylore." His voice is crisp, tight, and furious. "And while we're at it, how about you tell me the truth, this time? You see, I went over all my notes last night, and some of these stories, well, fancy that, but they don't stay the same. It was really quite enlightening."

Panic washes at the edge of my mind like a tide growing stronger under the force of a storm surge, and as I sit there, I can see Louis sitting beside him. He would smile, flashing his stunning white teeth, and swipe that gold hair back from his forehead. He'd lean back and cross his legs, raise an eyebrow, and grin in that knowing, teasing way that is only known to me, like our own secret language, and he would hate this man sitting in front of me. He would have thought Sparrow was a revolting joke.

But wouldn't that be the best disguise?

I'm panicking so hard, I'm sweating, and the words are frozen in my mouth. All I can do is sit as the world goes in and out of focus.

"Jacob, is, was, no, is a wonderful man who was meek and mild. I didn't have much to do with him. I just saw them a few times." My eyes widen. "Him. I only saw him a few times."

Sparrow pulls out his folder and starts taking notes. "Tell me again about the day he asked you to marry him."

"It was raining."

Sparrow's lips compress.

"I mean, it was sunshine." With a gasp, I stop, cutting myself off, because I can't remember the story I told him. I've got no idea. "Doctor, I'm not feeling well." And it's true. I'm feeling really, really awful .

He straightens and puts his folder inside his briefcase. "Stand up."

I stand up cautiously.

"We're going on a field trip to help jog your memory."

I shudder, but he puts a palm to my back and guides me out of the mansion. I peer back and see Astaire, his black shape the only comfort.

"Get help," I mouth.

I get into Sparrow's car and sit stiffly, struggling to pay attention to where we're going. The minutes pass in the tense silence, and the longer it goes, the more frightened I become. The radio is on, but I can't say what played. The car smells musty and like cologne. It's a small, expensive car.

We end up parking and looking out over the mine. I remember the day bringing Dane and Rafe here. This day feels so much worse.

Sparrow gets out of the car and waits. I sit there for a long time until I realise he's not going to end this until I give him what he wants. I get out and stand near him. He pats the hood of the car right beside him. I stare at the spot and then creep to it.

There is something terrifying about someone being so polite when you know they can destroy you. No one knows where I am. No one would think to come save me from this lunatic. The cold of the car sinks into my jeans, and I notice the air is brisk and cold. I can smell rain.

"Do you know why we're here?" Sparrow asks me without looking at me.

I shake my head.

"My daddy died here. My mother got sick and died from complications from working here, too. But here's the interesting thing, according to my research, so, too, did Louis' father. His name was Liam Banewood, and he worked here until a piece of the manufacturing line snapped and cut his throat."

I stare down at the mine, horrified. "How old was Louis?"

"He was old enough to know," Sparrow says with a shrug. "His mother was a drunk and abusive, as was hers. Generational drinkers. This is what I think started his homicidal nature. Among other things, the trauma, the abuse, genetics. He really didn't stand a chance."

"Did you know him?" I'm hesitant to ask, but I need to know.

"Did I? No, I don't remember ever crossing paths with him," Sparrow says with a chuckle. "But my family weren't as poor as his. We had no reason to cross paths." He pauses, letting the air go silent. "But you did."

Sparrow whirls and grabs my upper arm, stopping me from moving. He traps me against the hood of the car.

"What are you doing?" I stutter out. Panic spikes inside me, and I see rainbow flickers out of the corner of my eyes.

Sparrow reaches up and grips my hair, pulling it at the roots. "Here's the thing. I think you've been lying to me. And I think you've been telling me all sorts of wrong information about Louis. I think you've been sabotaging me and taking advantage of my good nature. You knew him all along. He was your childhood friend. Your first love. You were friends with that fat kid, Keylore. Jackie Harmon. You little bitch!"

I gasp as he pulls harder, yanking my head to the side. "No, I swear, I haven't."

"Jax Shade. Jackie Blackwell. Jackie Harmon. You fucking lying bitch! You better be telling me the truth."

"I am! I swear!" The pain is incredible, but, worse, is the fear. I gasp. Black flickers of movement flash beside me. My mother's voice sounds close but far away. I can hear her screaming to wake up .

He is shaking me back and forth. My teeth snap together, I catch my tongue, blood exploding into my mouth. I cry out, and it stops. He pulls my face close to his and bares his teeth.

"I'm not going to play nice with you, Jackie. I'm going to put you in the center, where I can keep you under supervision. Fuck you. I don't care what he thinks. I don't care what anyone thinks. You need to be punished for your lies."

I shudder as his garlicky breath wafts over my face.

"Louis is going to kill you," I say with conviction. With recklessness.

He throws his head back and laughs. "Louis will recognise that I'm on his side. I want to make him famous, bigger, better, unforgettable. He won't know what I've done with you. But even if he did, he doesn't care about you. That much is clear. I'm more powerful than a serial killer. He needs me."

His ego is shocking. I knew he was bad, but this is worse than I could have imagined.

I glare up at him. "Wrong. Louis has one side, and that's his, and everyone else is not on it." I consider his words about Louis and him being, what…friends? A laugh escapes me. Louis has one friend, and that's Louis. I'm some strange exception to his hatred of humanity. If it's a cover, then he's playing it deep and for the long game.

Sparrow shakes me hard again. I feel some of my hair tear out.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Jojo!" He hisses into my ear.

Ice slithers up my spine, into my stomach, my mind freezes with terror. I try to turn my head, but I can't. How does he know that name? He's not Louis, I would know it, but someone he's been working with? Someone close enough to whisper my name into his ear ?

He throws me towards the edge of the mine. I trip on the grass and sprawl there. I sob and push myself up as he gets in the car.

I kneel there and then force myself up to my feet. I check my hair and adjust my clothes. But then I stop because I don't know what to do or think.

Is he Louis or not? It sounds like not, but how does he know to call me Jojo?

The sound of his horn screeching into the air around me makes me gasp. I wipe the tears from my eyes and stand up straight, trembling. The last thing I want to do is get in the car with this man.

Walking home would be dangerous.

I have no choice. I turn and walk back to the vehicle and climb into the passenger side, curling my body as tightly as I can into my seat.

He hums as he reverses away from the lookout.

"I just want you to give me something, Jackie. Something I can use to barter with. Something I can use against him." Sparrow looks at me, but I keep my gaze locked on the windscreen window. "I can protect you. Just give me anything," he pleads in desperation.

I flinch. Honestly, I'd give it to him if I could.

"Jackie, your refusal is going to cost you," he snarls, ricocheting back to anger again.

I know it.

Sparrow snarls and hits the steering wheel, making me flinch. I'm so sick of being vulnerable to this pig of a man. He abruptly turns and drives up towards the cemetery.

My breathing gets shallow as I try to figure out the best way to get out of this alive.

"Why are we here?"

"Oh, we're going on a trip down memory lane. "

"Doctor Sparrow, I really need to get home," I whisper.

"You need this more. Trust me." He parks at the gates of the cemetery. As soon as he puts the car in park, the doors unlock. It's what I've been waiting for. I throw open my door and bolt in the opposite direction of the cemetery. My feet pound the pavement.

I'm going into somewhere I would never normally go.

The dead city.

I slip down the first alley I find and jump through a broken window. I weave my way through from building to building, working my way into areas of near silence.

It's eerie and oppressive. The air is cool and dry, but the buildings close in around me. I avoid several holes and manage to save myself from pitching into a massive sinkhole by grabbing a piece of steel cable.

It's luck or fate mocking me when I creep into a building. It looks like any of the others. The inside is dark and musty. Rotted beams barely hold up the creaking bones of the building.

But it's the smell. I know that smell. I forget about Sparrow, about Louis, about anything but that smell. My feet move me closer to it without recognition or intent. It takes me forever to cross that small amount of space, but I slip into the doorway and look around.

The bodies are everywhere. Some of them are headless. Some are skinned. A strange roaring starts in my ears. Everywhere I look there are more. Some of them are dressed and some are naked. But all are cut to ribbons and displayed like this is a shrine to the dead.

My blood turns to ice, and it feels like my eyes might burst right out of their sockets. So many. There are so many. I back up, one careful step after another, one hand muffling the sobs that are coming from my mouth .

But there's a bed. A bed with our bedding on it. There's a bloodstain on the fabric. I look around and see his tools. An electric wire attached to a battery. A knife. Fire. Water. His torture implements. And the dahlia brand.

My whole body is shaking now. I can barely function. The past and the now are colliding, and I'm remembering a different scene where I came across my fiancé and the woman he was murdering.

I'd fought that day.

I don't know if I have it in me anymore. I swipe at my cheeks, wiping tears away.

So many people. I want to help them, but I can't. No one believes me! I have to run. I know I do, but I can't make myself move. This spell of horror has me caught.

I'm alone now.

"Run!" Astaire howls in my ear.

I explode into a run, obeying my friend's instructions without question. Hope kindling back in my breast.