Page 93 of The Eleventh Hour
“I’m fine, Mase.”
“What is going on out there, the things they are saying? What the fuck, Jackie?” He spits at me. “Do you have any idea how pissed your dad is?”
I wince and relax slightly when I feel Rafael slip his hand into mine. “I need to see the family,” I say coldly.
“Excellent, you can explain your filthy behaviour to all of us.” Jeraldine’s face has broken out in hives. I can only remember it happening on two occasions. Severe stress, if I recall. Another mark against my name.
“Lead on,” I say to her gently.
She glares at me and searches my face as if looking for the hidden insult, but I have nothing. Not this time.
I walk into the room, and it falls instantly silent.
“Hi.”
Andy explodes up. “What the hell, Jackie? Now you're a fucking criminal. Why didn’t you stay dead?”
I recoil, but there’s nowhere to go.
“Andy!” Dad chides, but his eyes are on me, and in them, all I see is heartbreak.
“I’m sorry. This was never supposed to happen.” My voice is weak, even to my ears.
“Explain it to us,” River says from the couch, but even he’s wearing a guarded expression. You should have told me.
I wanted to.
He looks away from our silent conversation, and I try to ignore the pain in my chest.
“All right, sit down, everyone. Let’s hear this story out, and then we can ask questions and work out what we’re dealing with.” Dad perches in his favourite wingback chair and focuses all of his deadly attention on me. I inhale and notice that everyone is here. The whole family, Mason, Stannis the butler, Matilda, who runs the house, and Richard, who looks particularly furious.
It’s probably bad for business.
Rafael squeezes my hand, and Dane stands shoulder-to-shoulder with me.
“I ran away when I was sixteen because I was making everyone unhappy, no, no, hear me out. It was true at the time. When I left Hurricane, I left with Louis Falcon. We went out, found a city and jobs, and together, we made a life. After a while, romance came into the equation, and then, eventually, we got engaged.”
I wince, hating how cold I sound.
“Six years ago, I opened the door to a pair of detectives. They told me everything Louis had done, showed me photos, and basically kept me in there for days while they tried to make me confess. I found out a bit later that Louis had chosen his victims from my friend circle. Left clues and details that would lead back to me if anything happened to him.”
I squeeze the bridge of my nose.
“So, I kinda had a breakdown and ended up in a psych ward for a little while. I was released a few months later, but the detectives have never given up, and there is a court mandate that says I need to attend weekly sessions with a court-appointed psychiatrist. That was my life. No one believed I was innocent. Everyone everywhere hated me.” I don’t even dare look at Dane or Rafe. I haven’t told them this part yet, and I haven’t admitted it out loud. I’m crazy, I’m sick, my medical file says so.
“Why did you come back?” Stevie glares at me from the darkest corner of the room.
“Two reasons. I want answers for the victims and my stalker.”
“Stalker?” Dad sits up. “Wait, are you saying you’re in danger?”
“Uh, yes. So, a few years back, I got a letter with a photo of me, and it was just too strange. I let it go, but after letter six, I decided I needed to come back and see if I could find out more about Louis.” It’s not the truth, but it’s close enough.
“So, Louis is the Black Dahlia killer, is that correct?” Jeraldine barks out.
I nod. “Yes. That’s what the police said.”
“The same one that’s back.”