The Jack & Jill Series

by Ann, Jewel E

  She glared at him, waiting for him to acknowledge that she was naked, bound at the ankles, battered, bleeding, and strong as a corpse.

  “But Irene—” She coughed, not sure if he could hear her voice that was non-existent.

  “No. The guy. She won’t kill you. She doesn’t have it in her, that’s why he’s here. He’ll kill you. The arrows.” He nodded to the table. “They’re razor tips.”

  Jillian dragged her body along the concrete floor. Even using the arrow to cut the ties proved to be difficult. She had no strength. Once her legs were free, Knox nodded to the table. “Drink.”

  Jillian grabbed the half-empty bottle of water and drank it down, burning the whole way.

  Just as she moved to help free Knox, footsteps neared the door.

  He shook his head. “Leave me.”

  She hated him and the pictures were still on the floor to remind her why, but for a brief moment she felt the unwelcome emotion of sorrow. “You…” she swallowed, even whispering hurt “…confessed.” Her reference was to his admitting that he raped her.

  Knox shrugged. “When I see my angel, I want to be able to tell her I tried to right my wrongs. I’m sorry, Jessica.”

  The door opened. Jillian pulled herself to standing, three razor-tipped arrows fisted in her right hand. She held her head high and took slow, deep breaths to keep from passing out as she hid around the corner. Everything felt weak, including her pulse. She didn’t know if she had the strength to kill him. Either way, she’d die trying.

  “My eyes.”

  Jessica nodded.

  Four blinks. Her target would be the fourth one to come down the stairs. Knowing where Irene fell in the lineup would have been nice, but she’d improvise. Her heart found some life, pumping blood to her extremities. Four blinks. Four people. Luke was alive.

  He rounded the corner first, stopping when his eyes met the empty spot where she had been. Knox shook his head a fraction. Luke didn’t speak. Irene shoved him, sending him to the floor before Jillian’s absence came into her line of sight.

  “Where the hell—”

  Jackson saw Jillian first. His eyes made a quick scan of her body. The master at showing no emotion had murder in his dark eyes.

  Knight met Day.

  The gravity of her time in captivity mixed with AJ, Luke, Knox, and their parents—it was too much.

  Life was too much.

  Day faded into night … into complete darkness.

  *

  No more games.

  No more trying to save everyone.

  The photo of her made Jackson’s stomach roil, guilt flared in his conscience seeing her standing there a mere skeleton—sunken eyes, bloodied flesh contrasting ghostly skin, her body shaking to the point he could almost hear her bones vibrating.

  Life slowed to a crawl. Jessica’s breath caught. Her eyes rolled back in her head as her withered body faded to the ground. If that was her last breath … everyone would die.

  Jackson didn’t have to think. Jude was back. Instinct took over.

  The guy with the guns was disarmed, a bullet in his brain in less than five seconds. The woman Jackson knew as Meredith Baker, his piano student who should have died in Omaha, lunged for her bow and arrows scattered by his sister’s limp body.

  Bang.

  Blood from her head pooled around Jillian’s hand. He stepped toward Luke and Knox then stopped, lifting his foot to see what he’d stepped on. His brows drew together, eyes narrowing as the image registered.

  Knox McGraw raping Jessica.

  The muscle in his jaw ticked like a bomb counting down. He drew his head up. Knox’s eyes shifted from the picture to Jackson.

  Bang.

  Dropping the gun to the floor, he squatted down and retrieved a knife from his boot.

  “Hurry,” Luke said, keeping his eyes on Jessica.

  Jackson cut him free.

  Luke lunged for Jessica, feeling for a pulse. “Get an ambulance, now!”

  Jackson sprinted past Luke as he pinched Jessica’s nose and breathed into her mouth. He left his phone in the Escalade, which felt a million miles away because his sister. Wasn’t. Breathing.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Luke sat in the waiting room. When the nurse asked his relationship to Jillian Knight, he didn’t have an answer. The truth was, he didn’t know Jillian Knight. Only family was allowed to see her. Jackson, he was her only family.

  One year.

  He was less than an hour away from marrying her and in one year he went from her everything to a nobody sitting in the waiting room—alone. The urge to call someone—Lake, his parents, Gabe—was miserably tempting, but Jackson said it wasn’t safe to contact anyone.

  The paramedics resuscitated her twice on the way to the hospital. Three hours in the ER and a blood transfusion later, they moved her to a room. When she woke they let Jackson in to see her.

  Luke waited.

  “She’s going to be okay.”

  Luke stood as Jackson came through the doors. “I need to see her.”

  “She’s … not ready. Sorry.”

  “What do you mean she’s not ready?”

  “Whatever happened down in that basement, it messed her up.”

  “I’m a psychiatrist, if she needs to talk—”

  Jackson rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not her psychiatrist. I’m not sure you ever really were.”

  Luke took a step back, collapsing into the chair, resting his head in his hands.

  “She was taken while on her way to AJ’s funeral. Whether you like it or not, she loved him and now she needs time to grieve. I think she’s grieving more than just him, but she won’t talk to me either right now.”

  Dr. Jones understood. Luke hated it.

  “For now they’re trying to bring her back from severe dehydration and starvation. They might have someone come evaluate her later.”

  “For?”

  Jackson curled his lips and looked at the ceiling a moment. “She doesn’t have much desire to …”

  “To what?”

  He met Luke’s eyes again. “Live.”

  Luke couldn’t speak. He never imagined a world without Jessica, and he certainly never imagined a world with her having no desire to be in it with him.

  “I don’t want to, but I have to drive back to San Francisco to deal with some stuff. The nurses know how to contact me. You can stay as long as you realize they won’t give you any information on her. Or I can take you home.”

  “I’m staying.”

  Jackson nodded.

  *

  Luke waited and watched for the changing of the guard. By eleven that night he didn’t recognize any of the nurses, which meant they wouldn’t recognize him.

  He first grabbed some coffee from the cafeteria then strolled past the nurses’ station like he knew exactly where he was going, even though he didn’t know her room number.

  “Excuse me, sir. Are you here to see someone?”

  He smiled. “Yes. I’m here to see Jillian Knight.”

  “Are you family?”

  “Yes. I’m Jackson, her brother.”

  The nurse typed Jillian’s name into the computer. “Okay, Mr. Knight. She’s probably sleeping, but we don’t have any visitation restriction for family so you’re more than welcome to sit with her.”

  “Thanks … oh and one of the nurses from the previous shift mentioned they might move her to a different room. Did they?”

  The nurse looked at the screen. “I’m not sure. It says here that she’s in room 420.”

  Luke shrugged. “They must have decided to leave her then. Have a good night.”

  He stood at her door for few moments to gain something resembling composure. Then he eased it open.

  Curled into fetal position on her side, she hugged her pillow instead of lying on it, her arms desperate to hold something, to feel secure. He wanted to be that for her.

  After setting the coffee on the windowsill, he pulled the chair
as close to her bed as possible. Easing into it, he leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. His hands ached to touch her, but he didn’t.

  Instead, he just looked at her. In many ways she was unrecognizable as the woman he knew. Her blond hair, frail body, and a road map of new scars. But the longer he let his eyes settle on her, the more he recognized—the tiny mole below her left earlobe and the way her nose occasionally twitched on its own, the way her eyelashes curled on her cheeks, the rhythm of her breath, and her hands. He knew their strength but never felt anything but love from their touch.

  She jumped.

  He froze.

  But her eyes never opened. She made a soft noise, a heartbreaking noise. Then she silently sobbed into the pillow, but she wasn’t awake. He fisted his hand against his mouth, fighting every urge to touch her.

  She jumped again, her eyes flew open, her breath held captive in her chest. Luke refused to move, his own breath waiting for her to do or say something. Her eyes filled with tears and she buried her face in the pillow, her tiny body shaking. He’d give his own life to take away her pain, but it wasn’t his to take anymore.

  His hand moved toward hers. Letting just the tip of his finger touch the end of hers. He inched it up with the softest touch. Then, like a young child, she grabbed his finger and squeezed. Luke felt her touch in the deepest depths of his heart.

  Red eyes met his, her chin quivering. She sat up and reached for him with both arms.

  “D-don’t say any-anything. J-just hold m-me. Please.”

  Luke lay next to her and held her in absolute reverence. She slid one of her legs between his as if she couldn’t get close enough. Words congested his throat. There was so much to say, but he stayed silent. He would do anything to keep her in his arms. His own tears fell to the white sheets. How could she be so close yet an ocean away?

  *

  Life. Was. Cruel.

  Jillian woke wrapped in Luke’s arms. There were no words to describe how it felt. There were also no words to describe the shame, the guilt, the regret, the pain. That pain challenged every breath she took.

  In a blink he would be gone again. That was the reality of her life. She had to be Jillian Knight to stay alive, and maybe that’s why she questioned her desire to live. Being Jillian Knight was bearable with AJ Monaghan. Without him Jillian Knight felt like a waste of space and time.

  “Five minutes.” Her voice was still scratchy, but at least she had one.

  Luke pulled back a fraction to look at her, his brows drawn tight.

  “For five minutes let’s talk about anything but us. Let me feel normalcy again for just five minutes.”

  He continued to just look at her, then he nodded.

  “How’s Jones?”

  “Still big.”

  She laughed. It felt good, like the smallest spark of life. When the silence enveloped them again, she realized he had nothing to ask her and why would he? He didn’t know Jillian Knight.

  “How about Lake?”

  He chuckled. That felt good to her too. “She’s contumacious.”

  “So, awesome?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “And her leg?”

  “She’s hell-bent on having one made to be able to wear high heels.”

  “You should make that happen for her.”

  “You think?”

  She rested her cheek on his chest and fiddled with the collar of his shirt. “Absolutely. She’s a young woman. Just because she lost her leg doesn’t mean she should lose her right to feel sexy.”

  He hummed, maybe in agreement or just in thought.

  “So … you sell Lascivio.” He nudged the line, a very awkward line.

  “I did. I’m not sure what I do now. But, yes, and I was good at it.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  “That I sold it or that I was good at it?”

  “Both.”

  “Still have my GTO?”

  “I do still have my GTO.”

  “I miss it.”

  “Lucky GTO.”

  She pulled away and forced a smile as she sat up. Pain shot through her shoulder from where the arrow landed, as well as the stitches on her chest and shoulder. Nothing hurt as much as Luke thinking she didn’t miss him.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s fine. I think our five minutes are up.” She touched her fingers to her throat.

  “Can I get you some water?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Jackson’s voice echoed a few seconds before he peeked into her room. “Are you decent?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “So you’re feeling better.” He smiled, but it wasn’t genuine. It said, “I’m playing casual but I have bad news.”

  “I feel like shit. But let’s be honest, I was bound naked in front of everyone. Not that I had much to begin with, but my dignity is gone.”

  “Luke’s getting you water.”

  “As long as he doesn’t throw it on me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing.” She rested her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes. “Tell me the bad news.”

  “What makes you think I have bad news?”

  “Nine months in the womb together. Just spill it.”

  “Irene was Knox’s ex-wife.”

  “Yesterday’s news.”

  “She was Meredith Baker too.”

  Jillian opened one eye. “Seriously?”

  Jackson nodded.

  “Is this where you give me the lecture about how you should have ignored me and followed your instincts to kill her?”

  “That’s on the docket, but not today. She spent five years in a mental institution.”

  “I know.”

  “Her two accomplices were in there with her. She got out on her own—good behavior and passing the discharge evaluation—but she helped them escape after she got out. In exchange for their freedom, they agreed to help her carry out her revenge.”

  “What were they in for?”

  “He killed his two younger brothers when he was sixteen … with his bare hands. Blamed it on his ADD meds. She killed her boss after he wouldn’t give her a raise.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes.”

  She opened both eyes. He acted weird, even for him.

  “It’s about Mom and Dad.”

  “I … I already know.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  “Mom had an affair of sorts with Knox.”

  “Yeah, I knew.”

  Her head jutted forward. “You knew?”

  He nodded. “I saw them kissing at a fundraiser our senior year of high school.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “I tried. The day you told me about the trip you planned with Claire I was going to tell you, but I decided to wait until you got back home, but then …”

  “But what? She died and I went insane? That doesn’t explain never telling me.”

  “You built your dreams on them, their relationship, their marriage. At what point was I supposed to obliterate your dreams?”

  “That’s what is was … all those years. You held something inside. I always knew you weren’t telling me something. And the women … I dreamed big, but my God … you had no dreams at all. It was Mom. That’s why you hated women so much.”

  “I didn’t hate women.”

  “You fucked Irene and then taught her piano lessons without a clue that your dick had ever been in her.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You did. In a bar. That’s my point.” Jillian coughed, pressing her finger to her neck again.

  “It’s history. That’s not what I want to tell you anyway. I no longer give a shit about the affair, their marriage, or any of it. They’re dead. Knox is dead.”

  “You killed him?”

  “I saw …”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Let me just say this, okay?”

&n
bsp; She nodded once.

  “Knox said Mom and Dad were murdered. They suspected Dad’s cover had been compromised, but they couldn’t prove it for sure.”

  “Yes …”

  “I had someone at G.A.I.L. pull all of Irene’s phone records, emails, texts … everything since she was released from the mental institution. She started a rumor that went viral through not only G.A.I.L. but the DEA about threats being made against Dad. Several days after it started she texted Amanda and Robbie.”

  “Who are Amanda and Robbie?”

  “They were the couple she sprung from the mental institution. She sent them Mom and Dad’s address and step-by-step instructions on breaking the security code. She also wired them fifty grand each from G.A.I.L. and hid it under travel expenses—miscellaneous trips, jet fuel, and pilots that were never actually purchased.”

  “She went back to working with G.A.I.L. after being locked up for five years?”

  “No. But when the brains behind the intel and security leaves, she takes all the secrets with her. She could break into G.A.I.L.’s computer system with her eyes shut.”

  Jillian shook her head. “I don’t understand why you’re telling me all this. I don’t understand the point.”

  Jackson sighed. She hated it because it sounded like a sympathy sigh.

  “You do understand, you just don’t want to hear it.”

  “No.” Denial was the only thing she had left to hold on to.

  “I’m sorry. We didn’t know.”

  “We didn’t know? Are you kidding me? You and Knox show up and ruin my whole fucking life. I leave everything, fake my death, watch the man I love mourn over my grave and you’re sorry? I was in just as much danger leaving as I would have been staying. The only person coming after us knew who and where we were. Do you see how fucked up this is? How could neither one of you have done your fucking research before destroying my life? You left nothing behind, but I did!” She coughed, a little blood coming up again.

  “What’s going on?” Luke asked, carrying a tray with water, ice, and something resembling a smoothie.

  Jillian glared at Jackson. “Leave.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not ready for your apology … for any of it.” She didn’t say AJ’s name, but Jackson’s mercy killing had not slipped her mind. It would never slip her mind.

  “I died yesterday … when you weren’t breathing. I died. I may make mistakes and act impulsively, but I do it because I love you. When you had the fairytale in your head of Mom and Dad’s ‘perfect’ life, I had nothing but you. When you met Luke, I had nothing but you. But yesterday—in the ambulance—I simply had nothing. So hate me. I’ll fucking take it every single day because it means you’re alive. I don’t need your love. I just … I just need you.”