*
Day
Three negative tests.
In spite of the timing being all wrong, a pang of disappointment settled in Jessica’s heart. It was ridiculous since they weren’t trying to get pregnant. She called him anyway, but it went to voicemail. Just the sound of his voice took away some of the sadness.
“Hey, babe. I’m on my way home. Work feels like too much … work.” She laughed. “Just wanted to hear your voice. I guess your stuffy recording will have to suffice. Just a little blue today. Call me if you want me to meet you at the hospital later. Love you.”
She stuck her key in the door, but it was unlocked. Easing it open, she breathed a sigh of relief upon spotting Jude.
“I wasn’t aware you had a key.” She closed the door and kissed Jones on the head. “What’s up with the stony expression? Who died?”
“Your parents,” Knox said, stepping into view.
“What?” Their joke was cruel and not welcomed after her shitty day.
“Jess.” Jude moved toward her, tears pooling in his eyes.
Her life slowed, digging its heels into the ground like she could change the direction of fate before the official impact. Knox’s mouth moved. She heard nothing but the thundering echo of her heart, the pounding of doom.
“No. No. NO!” She collapsed into Jude’s arms.
It was too much—Claire, Ben, Lake, her parents. No one could endure so much tragedy. It wasn’t fair.
“We have to go.”
“Go?”
“You know the drill. I’m sorry. You have to make a decision and make it fast.”
She pulled away from Jude, glaring at Knox. “A decision?”
“Dad didn’t show up to work today. Knox found them at home. Someone shot them.”
“No. Stop talking.”
“You’re next. This life is over,” Knox said.
She shook her head.
Jude grabbed her face. “Look at me.”
Jessica didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to see him pretend to be strong. He had as many tears running down his face as she did.
“This is what Dad trained us to do.”
“He … they trained us to defend, to …”
“Stay alive.”
“No.”
“Yes. It’s over. We have to leave. Fin de journée.”
Their dad spoke fluent French, thanks to his French mother. He made it seem like a vacation. He joked about moving to Paris if they ever had to flee for their safety. Their temporary life a side effect of his job. After Gail Brighton died, everything and everyone become temporary.
“Luke …”
“He can come, but he will be dead in his family’s eyes.” Knox didn’t look at her. He seemed to be dealing with his own emotions, a rare side to him that she’d never seen before. Maybe because he was too busy being a monster.
“What? No. I can’t. Lake is in a coma. It would kill his parents. They’re barely hanging on right now.”
“Just you then?”
“No. I can’t leave him. He’s my … my …” A sob ripped from her chest, obliterating her heart. “He’s my everything.”
Knox looked at his watch. “Every second we wait, puts you one step closer to death.”
“Choose, Jess.”
“Jude … I can’t. Please don’t …” She fisted his shirt. “Don’t ask me to do this. I can’t.”
“You can. You have to. If you stay, you’ll die and he and his family could too. I won’t let you stay. I’ll fucking drag your ass out of here before I’ll let you stay.”
“I have to say goodbye. I have to leave him a note. I have to—”
Knox grabbed her purse and tossed it on the counter. “You walk away with the clothes on your back. That’s it.”
“Let’s go.” Jude wrapped his arm around her, leading her to the door.
She turned, tearing out of his hold, and hugged Jones. “I love you. Tell Daddy I love him too. Take care of him, Jones.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Tell him I’m so very sorry.”
Jessica took one last look around. “I feel … numb … lifeless … dead.”
“You’ll be dead by morning.” Knox led the way.
Jessica followed, resisting temptation to look back. She could never look back again.
*
Knight
“Why suicide?”
Jillian looked at Knox, his eyes shut, jaw slack.
“It was the only way. Two unrelated murders would have raised too much suspicion. Suicide confirmed by a paid-off coroner was believable. Tragic, but believable.” She coughed.
“Jesus, Jess …” Luke homed in on the light splattering of blood that landed on her legs.
“My throat is raw. No … no more talking.”
She closed her eyes, swallowing the metallic taste back down. He said no more, at least not in the dungeon.
It didn’t take long for her dreams to play. The closer she came to dying, the more vivid her dreams became. In her dreams he spoke to her with love. It was Jones standing guard over the most precious little baby cooing in a white crib. Luke’s smile reached his ears. His lips mouthed, “I’ve never been so happy.” The camera in her dream panned out, but the person standing on the other side of the crib wasn’t Jessica. It was the completely put-together woman Jessica always knew he’d end up with, the one he deserved. Her hands were snow white, not a drop of blood had they ever taken from another human.