34. Jax

Jax

T he knock takes me by surprise. There's too much light in here for Gideon to stay, and Dane and Rafe left early this morning. No one should be here. I study the door with trepidation, finally walk over to it, and pull it open.

Detective Descario leans on the side of the frame and smiles at me like a cat that got the cream. My stomach flips violently. No visit from these detectives left me unscathed.

"Well, well, well, look what we uncovered, Wayland. It's our missing suspect."

"Not missing, staying with friends. I didn't even leave the state," I say faintly. All my instincts are screaming at me that this isn't good, but there's no way I can get away from them.

"Friends. You have a few of those. I'm impressed; for someone who's friendship comes with the, uh, what shall we call it, an unlucky gamble of ending up as a victim of a serial killer. I, personally, might be more discerning, but people do love to take risks with their lives." Descario smiles up at Wayland like she's said the funniest thing ever.

"Did you have a reason for searching for me, Detective?" I say in a flat tone and pull the sleeves of my t-shirt down.

"Well, Way and I, we've been looking for poor Martha Keylore. As far as we can work out…there is no connection. Or so we believed, but then when we did our due diligence, what did we see?"

Way grins and folds his arms over his chest. "Saw our friend here with Pastor Keylore. Getting cozy, spreading the love."

"Our friend, Jackie ‘The Fuck' Blackwell, aka Jax Shade. What the fuck were you doing, cozying up to the pastor?" Descario all but purrs. Why are her teeth so white? It's unnerving.

I wince. "I wanted to confess."

"To murder?" Descario barks.

"To unchristian thoughts," I say evenly. "I don't commit murder."

"So you keep singing. Same song, but the evidence is mounting. Especially after we found a particularly unique ring in your abandoned apartment. It's a sapphire, very expensive."

"It's not mine. Wrong colour," I snap back at her, telling her the truth. Mine is red, not blue. "And did you find the cameras? The water bottles with drugs in them?" I throw back.

Descario laughs. "Here we go. Playing the victim again. For the record, Miss Shade, there were no water bottles, drugged or otherwise, and no cameras anywhere. But I'll give you a seven for creativity."

I can feel my hope slipping away.

Wayland frowns at me, but I can't even think of anything to say.

"There's a party tonight. A huge to do at the Red Shard. Are we going to find a body?"

I look between them helplessly. It doesn't occur to me to lie. "Probably."

"Someone in Hurricane is hiding Louis, and when we find them, we're going to take every single one of you involved and punish you to within an inch of your lives. No quack will save you when I'm done. That cage will hold you for the rest of your unnatural life."

I can feel my eyes burning, but I still can't get my mind to work.

Descario pulls out her notepad and flips it open. She barely glances down before looking up, meeting my gaze and holding it.

"Now, we saw Titan at your doctor's office last night. What was he doing there after hours?" She seems so much larger than she is, her aggressive personality dominates every space she enters, and I feel like a helpless child again.

I blink several times. "Titan?"

"Yes, the gang banger, the last one to see Lisha alive. Why would he be visiting a respected shrink? A shrink that you see routinely. A shrink that is determined to keep you out of my jail cell. What the fuck does he want with a criminal?" She puts the notepad away and steps closer, I can see all the flecks of indignant colour in her dark brown eyes. Her lips curl in a smile, satisfied, like she thinks she's finally got the evidence that will put me in a dark hole forever. A scary smile.

"Perhaps he needs to discuss his…penis problem?" I guess, quickly wincing. "I don't know. I wasn't there."

"Ah, but you were. We saw you sneak out and go creeping into the alley like the low-life you are. Titan showed up a few minutes before you. All neat and tidy with a bow."

"Detective Descario, why do you hate me so much?" But I'm doing the math. It could be him. Fuck, why is Sparrow selling me out to Titan? Oh, god, that's almost as bad as the stalker having information on me.

What if Titan is the stalker? What if he's the copycat?

Her jaw clenches, and she lifts her hand to brush her hair behind her ears. "I hate people who hurt others and then get away with it. People should pay for what they've done."

"But what if you're wrong? What if that person didn't do anything?" I blurt in frustration.

Descario leans towards me, smiling slightly.

"Then they have nothing to hide. They will be honest, open, and trust in the law's judgement."

"Our laws are corrupt and protect the bad guys," I growl at her.

"Our laws are our laws, and they should be respected."

"The world isn't black and white, Detective. Its shades of fucking grey. Right and wrong are either ors, and people can be innocent and unfairly punished by our so-called laws."

"Bullshit," the detective spits. "You're just trying to get away with a free pass after what you did to those people…"

I stare at her, my eyes widening as a fury fills me. "You told the press my name and where they could find me. Every time I moved. Was that punishment? Was that to the letter of the law, Detective? This is the first time you haven't because telling my dad would have been too far. A line even you wouldn't cross. They threw food at me. Bottles. They broke my belongings. They left bruises and terrorised me. Who's going to pay for that?"

Descario throws herself at me. My back slams into the door frame, and I see the red veins in her eyes throbbing with fury as she squeezes. In her eyes, all I see is a burning hate.

"Maria, let go! Hey! Detective Descario!" Wayland shouts and hauls her back, leaving me to sag against the door.

"I'm going to nail you, and it will be the finest day of my career. You don't deserve to live. You're fucking scum," Detective Descario shouts.

I look away from her in disgust to find Wayland studying me with a blank look. He hauls her to the car and slams the door closed before marching back to me. I step back, but he grips my wrist in a bone-grinding hold and yanks me closer.

"I don't know if you're innocent or not. Frankly, I don't care. I don't like you, Jackie. I think you don't care about people and you enjoy the attention too much. But I also think there might be a lot we aren't seeing, a lot you keep behind that mask, so I'm going to give you this warning, just one." Wayland leans closer. "Louis is here, and he's making his comeback, and from all of what we can see, you are going to be a key player. Everything revolves around you. If you don't want to go down for this…maybe cross those state lines and keep going or pick the side you're destined to be on. We both know you're his. Why do you keep denying it? Just kneel for your king and go down with him."

I shudder at the violence in his voice. "I can't, Wayland. I'm as trapped here as you two are." His fingers grind my wrist bones as I whisper back. "And I'll never kneel for anyone, even Louis."

"Then god help you because we won't." He licks his lips, and his eyes get even colder. "Louis sent us a gift, three fingers that belong to Martha. That's whose pain and suffering we all have to carry. A pious woman's innocent screams. May they haunt your nightmares the way they do mine." Wayland thrusts my wrist away from him and turns on his heel, stalking back towards the unmarked car, where he gets into the passenger seat. I close the door but wait until I hear them drive away.

Information is buzzing in my head, and I feel sick thinking about all the things I need to do. All the pieces that don't gel together yet.

There's a party at the Red Shard tonight, and Titan went to see Sparrow. Was it Titan with Sparrow? I try to focus my mind, but I can't be certain. It might have been.

Martha's fingers.

I rush to the sink and vomit up the coffee I drank earlier.

It's not Louis. I keep telling them it's not him. It has to be a copycat. But who? Who knows that much information? And why does it feel like my ex?

I sink to the floor, trembling, violent flashbacks of a life I used to have slam into me.

This victim, Martha, is looking a whole lot like another victim, one the cops never realised was one of his. A victim who had no relation to me, other than the fact her husband asked me on a date. I kept the knowledge of that connection to myself. They never could find what tied him to me.

I stand up, rinse my mouth out, and then let my legs fold again, carrying me to the floor. I lean against the cool cupboards. It's not Louis. I know it's not, so how does this person know so much about his crimes?

I let out a whimper.

I need to tell them the truth. Even if I lose them over it.