Page 44 of The Eleventh Hour
I slam my hands in my pocket and lean back against the wall. “Nothing I can say will change it. You won’t believe me. Keep wasting everyone’s time, Detective.” I sneer. “More people will die.”
“A threat,” Descario declares. “Catch that, Wayland?”
“Sure did, Desi.”
I feign a yawn. “I really have a long day, and I need to get ready. Are we done or are you going to arrest me again?”
Descario hesitates, and my heart stutters. Is she going to do it? Will she arrest me? Wayland murmurs something, her face stiffens, and she nods.
“Not today, Miss Shade or Blackwell or whatever you want to call yourself.”
I scowl. “Have a nice day, Detectives.”
I knew I shouldn’t have said it, I shouldn’t have thrown it in. I should have kept my damn mouth shut. She turns back and raises an eyebrow.
“How is Edward Harmon…I was thinking the other day that he shares a certain resemblance to someone I knew, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.”
I blanch. She knows I’m related to the Harmon’s. Shit, is there no end to this hell?
“I wonder if he’d be up for a visit. Nice touch, too, leaving the body on your own doorstep.” She turns to leave and gets down three steps before she turns back. “Oh, watch out for those camera crews.”
As soon as they are gone, I slide along the wall back into my apartment and close the door.
It’s started again.
The detectives.
The reporters.
The bodies.
The secrets and lies. Everyone digging into my past and trying to unearth all my secrets. An endless parade of eyes on me, watching my every move, judging and analysing.
I want to scream, but I don’t make a sound. I rush to get dressed and check my phone. There’s a single text from an unknown number. I open it up.
She just wasn’t you. Xox
Bile races up my throat, but I swallow it down and stash my phone in its hole under the bed. I tread carefully down the stairs and spot the police tape and crowd of people standing just beyond the tape.
I turn quickly and climb the stairs and start making my way to the back of the apartment building. There are five exits to the building, and the one at the back shouldn’t have anyone there as it’s almost impossible to get to from the street unless you know about the alley and the hole in the fence.
Five exits, and only one way out. I’ll take that chance. I run with all the ghosts and memories of the past chasing me.
Jax
The receptionist glowers at me as she chirps happily on the phone. She presses one finger to her lips, then points at Sparrow’s office and flicks her fingers towards the door.
I smile tightly back at her and cross to the office and tap lightly.
The door opens, and Dr Sparrow smiles. It’s a smile of satisfaction and power. All at once, I remember who has the real power in my life. Oh, I might play dress up, and I might play pretend and go out and eat dinner with people, but this man, this one single, evil, human man…he owns me.
The court’s decision to deliver me, gift-wrapped, to him was evil. When my life circumstances suddenly changed and my social status went from fiancée to murder suspect, it caused me to have a breakdown that put me in my own prison.
It could happen to anyone. I can’t prove my innocence, and they can’t prove my guilt. Stalemate. So, next best thing, involuntary psychiatric treatment.
I’d rather be in prison than go back to the psych ward.
My eyes go to the black door on my left as I approach my chair. I perch on it, feeling like I need to be ready to flee, but knowing perfectly well I have no chance of making it anywhere.