Page 72 of The Eleventh Hour
“I’m sorry,” I whisper those words. Fear has a hand gripped tight around my throat.
“If you were sorry, you’d tell me the secret you keep. I can help you. The detectives won’t be able to touch you. You are my client, and I have sworn to the judge I saw yesterday that you are mentally unfit to stand trial.”
I choke, and a hiccuping sob escapes. “You said I’m mentally unfit? Does that mean?” I look at the black door.
“That is my decision, but if I think you are a danger to yourself or to others, I will lock you up for the rest of your natural life, and there isn’t a thing anyone can do to stop me. You understand that, don’t you? It’s for your own good, Jackie. I’m protecting you, even from yourself.”
“I don’t want to go back,” I whisper-shout.
“Then tell me everything, and don’t skimp on the details. Tell me about Louis. Tell me how you met. How did you eat cereal? Tell me about how it all went wrong. Tell me the secrets you keep, and I will make sure you never have to worry about anything ever again.”
I close my eyes, hearing what he’s not saying.
“Dr Sparrow, I’m telling the truth. I told you everything.”
He leans back in his chair and looks at the roof, his shirt riding up and showing off his pasty white belly.
“Jackie, you are really making my life extremely hard. The judge wants me to lock you up. The detectives want you in their cells. I can’t put them off indefinitely. This is my job, to make sure people are healthy and safe.”
“I am healthy and safe,” I breathe.
He leans forward, steeples his hands together, and presses them against his chin. “I was referring to the other citizens of Hurricane.”
“I don’t hurt people. Dr Sparrow, I had nothing to do with it. I didn’t know what he was doing,” I speak, but I sound hollow and far away.
“I see. Well, I don’t really want to go around and around with you. You should know that I will have you picked up if I hear you are involved in anything that might harm society.”
“I won’t.”
“Fine,” Dr Sparrow stands up and turns away, he walks to his desk and stares out the window. The stiff lines of his shoulders show just how angry he is. I peek at the black door, and then bolt from the room.
***
I sit on my couch and stare at the ring for hours while the conversation with Dr Sparrow runs circles in my mind. It’s all falling out of my control, just like last time. The only difference is, this time, I can see what’s coming. I know what hell awaits me.
Where did he find the ring? How did he get it in here without me waking? Gideon or Bob would have woken me. Rainbow shimmers flash in the kitchen, and I get up and pick up the bottle of water left from last night. Surely, not?
I kneel in my cupboard and pull out another bottle and inspect the seal. Sure enough, it’s broken. I glance up and freeze, my heart slamming against my ribs, bile turning my mouth sour. I launch to my feet and yank the tiny camera that’s hidden under my top cupboard off the wall.
Cameras and drugs.
I pick up the bottle of water and bring it down on the camera, over and over, until it’s a completely different shape. With a sob, I stop. Panting, shaking, more scared than I have been in six years. I can’t stay here; I hate it looks like I’m running away, but I can’t stay and be drugged…if Sparrow does a blood test, I can kiss my freedom goodbye. Plus, there’s the whole stalker touching me while I’m sleeping. I can’t even think about it without wanting to throw my guts up.
I turn and look at the ring. This ring is one I wore for two years. I was so comfortable wearing it I didn’t even notice it was on. How would he know that? I wore the ring; I didn’t hide it. But how did he get it? It has to be a replica. Yes, that’s it. It’s a replica. I close my eyes, but no matter how hard I try, I vividly recall the first time I saw it and how happy this tiny, stupid piece of rock made me.
Whoever this is has been with me since the start, or at least following me from those early days. They had to have been there when I was living with Louis. Maybe he had a friend I didn’t know about? Someone who took notes on our behaviour.
Everyone thinks this is Louis…but they’re wrong. I need to understand Lee Banewood and Louis Falcon to find this copycat. My lip curls at the thought of the trip down memory lane, but I am done, I’m so done.
I stand up, walk into my room, pull out a backpack, and start packing. When I’m ready, I walk to the front door and toss the keys and the thrice-cursed ring on the stained carpets. I won’t be coming back, one way or another, I’m done with this place.
Jax
The door opens, and Rafael falls back in surprise. It barely lasts long enough for me to register it before a smile eclipses his face and makes me wonder if the surprise was even there. There’s a trembling inside me, a desperate urge to throw myself into his arms.
“Hi.”
“Hey, I was wondering if I could stay with you guys tonight? Or for a while?” Rescue me, save me from the nightmares, keep me safe. I swallow down the useless thoughts. No one can save me except maybe me. Maybe.