Page 108 of From Hell

38

LAINE

Jaxon is the Ripper.

And now he’s gone. I never asked him why he did it or why he didn’t try and kill me again. All the questions that plagued my mind, all the answers I needed to learn to breathe again, are still there.

He left and didn’t look back.

I told him to go. I had to.

He sends me letters from Hell—his dead girl walking. It’s only a matter of time before he gives me a cold, dark grave, too.

I’m still sitting there, covered in blood, when the police storm the house. They don’t arrest me, but they take me away to another part of the house for questioning while officers swarm all over Jaxon’s things like rats picking apart a corpse. I want to scream at them to stop, but I have nothing left inside.

A little bird told me.…

I feel numb.

Torn apart. Broken.

Especially when the police keep asking me questions that I can’t answer. “I told you. I have no idea!” I lose my temper at one of the officers playing bad detective. “Just call my father.”

“Miss Summers, I’m afraid your father can’t help you right now.”

My head whips to the sound of Jaxon’s father’s voice. “Simmons.” I glare at him.

He casts a glance at the officers in the room with me. “Leave us.” I’m not surprised when the detective nods. Jaxon said the Lucians have some of the higher-ups in the Met and the City police dangling on a rope. The two officers glance at each other and then reluctantly do as he says.

“Jaxon isn’t here, and I don’t know where he is.”

Simmons snorts, taking a seat on the couch opposite. “I think you do know, Miss Summers.”

“I don’t.”

He cocks his head. “What happened to Wickham and Addison.”

“I didn’t kill them.”

“No. Jaxon did. I want to know why.”

“Ask him.”

“I’m asking you.”

I chew my inner lip.

“There’s no one here taking an official statement. Whatever you say stays between us.”

“You’re wasting your time.”

Simmons grins, a chilling mask I’ve never seen before. “Do you know how much influence I have? I could call into question your mother’s drinking or your father’s competence, or better yet, they could easily get in an accident on the way home from work.”

I glare at him. “In other words, you’re threatening me?”

He sighs and leans back in the chair. “I know you have some hold on my son, and I plan to have that removed. How I do that is up to you.” When I don’t say anything, he carries on. “Do you know why Jaxon is special? He was touched by the Divine when he was eleven years old.”

“The Divine?” I scoff.