37. Jax

Jax

Two months later

" W e're here. Are you ready?" Dane asks and squeezes my hand.

"Can I say no?" I ask and press a hand to my stomach.

"I mean, we could go, but it would look awful," Rafe says with a teasing smile. "Come on, you've got the three of us with you."

I heave a sigh and push the car door open. The night air is warm. Summer is coming, and tonight, there are no clouds in the sky. Just a glorious sunset. We're standing at the top of the lookout into the asbestos mines. Led by Jacob, a huge committee was started several weeks ago to clean it up in order to implement their secret project.

I hadn't paid much attention until I received the embossed gold and white invitation inviting us to attend.

A woman sees me and pauses. I think I can see her hatred, and I squeeze Rafe's hand hard.

"They hate me. I shouldn't be here."

The woman ambles over to me, still frowning. "Are you Jackie Blackwell?"

"I am," I say hoarsely, flinching away from her.

"I'm Quinn Lithglow's mother. You sent me money."

I blanch. "I'm sorry if I overstepped. "

"No, I wanted to say thank you. I…I'm sorry for what we believed about you. I'm sorry we were so hateful. Once we read your story, we realised the media did you wrong, and we shouldn't have been so quick to judge. That money helped us so much. I just wanted to introduce myself. My name's Annie."

She holds out her hand. I hesitate, then reach out and grasp her fingers and shake them. I'm still not sure whether to curse River for writing that newspaper article on what happened or not. It repainted me in a different light, and though not everyone believes I'm innocent, enough people are changing their minds that I can walk down the street without being singled out.

However, Hurricane is a small place, and there is a lot of hurt here. A lot of pain. People aren't happy to see me. I steal smiles and conversation whenever I step into a room.

She leaves after that, and I struggle to keep my breathing even. I recognise a lot of the people here. In the corner, I spot Nadia Livingstone, the neighbor that Louis threatened. She sees me and smiles broadly. There's no fear in her anymore. Beside her is Gage Marcel and a few of Titan's old crew.

I spot the family of David Moore, Phil's lover, standing in a small group. Watching the proceedings with trepidation.

Even old Mrs Brass, the librarian, is standing in a cardigan of black wool. Her glasses make her eyes look huge, and when she sees me, she stares before very slowly nodding. I nod back, and we both turn away.

"Oh, my gawd! Johnny?" The shrill voice screeches and, to my surprise, an old man whirls around.

I stare at the couple, trying to place them. I'm positive I've seen her around the community centre, but I'm not sure. It hits me suddenly, and I do a double take.

"That's Joe Hinklestien!" I breathe out in shock .

"Johnny, I've looked for you everywhere!" the woman cries and ambles towards him as fast as she can. She throws her arms around him and holds him tight. "Little brother, I missed you so much."

My eyes almost bug out of my head.

But then I turn and catch sight of Jeraldine, Andy, and Stevie. The latter waves at me. Jeraldine sweeps towards me and stops in front of me.

"Hi," I say softly.

"Hello," she says back in a husky whisper. "I owe you an apology."

"There's no need, Jeraldine."

She sniffs, and when she lifts her sunglasses, I can see how red-rimmed her eyes are.

"Either way, I'm sorry," she says. "I should have had more compassion. It's been hard to be here without him. I have not been myself."

"Dad said how much he loved you, that you were his true match. We spoke about it before he died." I offer the words awkwardly.

She closes her eyes and sways. Andy grabs her upper arm and holds her up.

"Thank you," Jeraldine whispers.

She leans forward, kisses my cheeks, and then walks away before I can say anything. Andy follows her, but Stevie stays beside me. I lift my fingers to my cheek, unable to tear my eyes from her retreating form.

"She's not the same without him."

"I can see that."

"She'll be fine. Andy and I are taking her away. Sun, shopping, and good food."

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow. We wanted, no, needed to be here for tonight." Stevie leans in and hugs me. "Be safe, sister. "

"You, too."

I catch sight of River. He waves at me, but Jacob Keylore is walking through the crowd, drawing the eyes of everyone gathered. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the press and lean into Dane's arm to hide.

He kisses my temple and pulls me into our little group.

As people move to the side, I see the memorial for the first time. It's a tall wall of granite.

Inscribed at the top are two quotes, one side has written: ‘To the people who found that, in Hurricane, they became lost. Who drowned in poison or on the street. We honour you every day by doing better.'

There isn't a list of names but one big, engraved drawing of a miner with his family.

I have to force myself to turn to the other side and read the writing. ‘In darkness we found hope, in lies we found truth, in pain we found healing, and in fear we found love. In this place, we pay homage to the victims of the Black Dahlia Serial Killer, who turned Hurricane into a battleground.'

Below that inscription is a list of names. I can't read past the first one. Edward Harmon. As part of River's act of grieving, he paid for the entire memorial and service.

Dad.

Rafe leans in close, his fingers tangling with mine. "It's going to be okay, baby. I promise."

I sniffle and lift my head up as Jacob clears his throat.

"I just want to thank you all for coming. It means a lot to this community, to our city, that you're here at our invitation. This is a night for grieving. For celebrating the lives of those lost. For healing. I impress upon you to honor those feelings and allow them to flow through you." He chokes up and clears his throat .

"So many of us were touched by the evil that was The Black Dahlia killer. So many lives have been affected. I lost my wife to his cruelty. That's why I'm here, talking to you. As a pastor, as a man of God, and as a human who lost his wife in a brutal and violent act. I wanted to give us something back. He took so much from us. And that is not okay."

"First and foremost. I would like to thank the law enforcement, the police officers and detectives, the lawyers and prosecutors, the media, who reported truthfully and fairly. To everyone who helped the victims' families with counselling, money, donations. We thank you."

The crowd explodes into applause. I find myself clapping along.

Jacob looks over the crowd, taking his time to really take everyone in.

"This solemn, mournful day has shown us the very depths that grief can take us. The story of Richard is a story of suffering and grief. But the song of his victims is that of love. As evidenced by all of you here before me. You want the truth, you want healing and to put our loved ones to rest in peace. Our hearts will never forget those who have left us. Indeed, their fingerprints are tattooed on the very fabric of our souls, but instead of mourning them, we celebrate the wonderful, amazing, different people that they were. Grief can be healing or it can be a slow poison. It's our choice of what form it takes. Choose to live a brilliant life, carry them with you, remember them always, but don't live in what-ifs. Love and live."

Jacob sweeps his hand out, and I take a moment to really look at all the people around us. There are so many. No one stands alone. Least of all me. Gideon is behind me, Dane to my left, and Rafe to my right. I'm surrounded by their love and support. But this day is for them. Not me .

Beside each family, unnoticed by almost everyone, is a flickering black shadow. The candle lights wash them in and out of existence, but they are here. So many of them.

Louis' victims are here today, too. I don't know if they will find peace and closure, but I hope some will.

"We could have fallen into madness. We could have found a bottle or walked away. We could have given up all that we are. But we rose, searching for truth, for the inevitable answers that were concealed from us. The journey was long, a wait some of us haven't been able to hold out for, but finally, we have our answers. We have justice." Jacob straightens up, opening the folder in his hands. He looks wonderful in his black shirt and slacks. His face is intense but compassionate. This is what Jacob was born to do. Pastor Jacob Keylore is back in his element, and I'm so proud of him.

"Eddie Harmon." The last victim is the first he calls, and it almost brings me to my knees. "Ivan Sparrow. Chris Wayland. Cherise Golden. Luke Titan Rhodes. Astaire Jagger. Martha Keylore," at this moment, Jacob's voice hitches, but he recovers quickly.

I don't. My eyes fill with tears as I remember Jacob's pain. The loss of his wife almost destroyed him. It almost destroyed his faith. Grief can be the sword that kills us or the hand that lifts us up.

"Alicia ‘Lisha' Veen. Eugene Mattadore. David Moore. Donna Rosely. Sarah Tentafield. Eric Mueller. Quinn Lithglow. Jessy Rise. Valerie Jean. Jeff Brownstone. Kevin Frank. Ira Renshod." He continues through the list, adding person after person, but I wait anxiously, my fingers twisted in Dane's. Every person is someone I know and have met. Even some I didn't realise I knew until I saw their faces. David Moore came into Eugene's and bought cat food three times a week. Quinn Lithglow was a nurse who treated me at the clinic. Ira Renshod was a friend who used to sing loud pop songs from those days when I didn't know Louis was a monster.

The curse and gift of Louis Falcon. Murdering anyone who touched my life. I feel a great depth of connection with all these victims, and I remember them. How could I not? Meeting me was the wrong turn that took their life from them.

Gideon leans closer, wrapping his arms tighter around me, sensing the shift in my mood.

"And finally, Cecil Banewood. Daisy Banewood. Dorothy Banewood. Jill Banewood. Lucille Banewood."

I never knew his family. They were the only victims who weren't touched by me.

"Jenny Blackwell."

I tense at my mother's name. Of course, I knew she was murdered by Richard, but I didn't think they'd include her.

"Louis Falcon, or as he was known when he was a child, Lee Banewood."

I flinch.

Jacob searches the crowd and finds me. I hate that Louis is on that list, but I understand the need for Richard to be the person who caused all this. Jacob's eyes shine with his apology. Only a few of us really know the secret of what happened. Only a few of us could really comprehend.

I stare at Jacob, waiting.

I asked him to leave this name until last. Because it was the catalyst for Louis Falcon's downfall. It was the reason Rafe and Dane came to town and found me. They are the reason I kept fighting. Without him, none of us would have our answers. "Terrance Kyte," Jacob says loudly and clearly, and my eyes prickle with tears.

Finally, we have recognition .

Dane and Rafe embrace, and I think I see a tear or two, but I keep my eyes averted because my own throat is tight.

Jacob is watching, smiling at us from his spot beside the memorial wall. When Rafe and Dane stop hugging, he clears his throat.

"And the final victim." Jacob looks straight at me, tears in his eyes. "We owe this person a great debt we can never repay. A person who fought against society, against her own fear, who suffered as much as any victim of The Black Dahlia Killer. Who found us our answers and brought truth to the light. We thank you, and we mourn for you. I give you the final victim; Jax Shade, or as some of you might remember her from all the news specials Jackie Blackwell. The woman who defied the Black Dahlia Serial Killer and survived."

The mourners burst into applause. But I can't move. That wasn't supposed to happen. Tears drip down my cheeks as River comes over and pulls me out of Gideon's arms and into a tight hug.

"You my hero, now and always," River whispers in my ear.

He steps back, and I find Astaire's father staring at me. His chin wobbles, and I hate how frail he looks, but he wraps his arms around me.

"Thank you," he says and backs away. "Thank you for fighting that bastard on behalf of my son."

"Astaire saved me," I say thickly. "He was my friend."

Astaire's dad's eyes widen in shock. I can see all the questions, but he shakes his head and steps back.

I stare in shock at the mourners waiting to get close to me. I don't have words. I just have this growing ball of emotion inside me that is threatening to bring me to my knees.

"I can't-" I begin.

"Thank you for saving us," Dane whispers.

"Thank you for showing us the truth," Rafe says softly .

"Thank you for being mine, in this life and the next," Gideon says behind me.

That's all I need to hear. All I need to know. I've been through the worst of it, and we made it out the other side. We won't forget anyone who's passed or gone, but we can honor them.

Louis created a dream and let me live in it. But, eventually, that dream fell apart like a smoke screen. This is a real, painful, brutal, wonderful life. This is the dream that I want now. A life of love with the men who love me, where the truth is the truth and the only monster I need to fear is in my distant memories.