to her as she slowly grabbed the knife again.
It felt numb in her hands. Everything felt numb. “Your name is not Chris …” she said in a lifeless voice, wrestling with disbelief and the shocking reality.
“It … it is.” Her friend pressed his palms to the side of his head, vigorously shaking it while stumbling over his words. “He’s … that person is … he’s … he’s a liar. Using … Jers, he’s using me to save himself. You were right. He’s known all along. He’s playing us. He’s playing you!”
Her pulse slowed and an ache settled into her throat as she witnessed her friend unravel. She gave him a sympathetic nod.
Ian used both hands to apply pressure to his leg. “Kessler drove a black Charger.”
“See!” Her friend pulled his hands away from his head and held them up in revelation. “Kessler … Kessler drove a black Charger. I told you, Jers … I told you.” He pointed an accusing finger toward Ian. “For the love of god, Jers … just finish it.”
She looked at Ian as he glanced up at her with resignation in his eyes. “He did.” He grimaced tightening his hold on his leg. “Kessler drove a black Charger. He was strung out on drugs. He killed Dena and Charles. He didn’t stop to see if they were still alive. Then he drove home to his parents’ estate, parked his black Charger in one of six garage stalls, and set the house on fire. They were inside, still asleep that morning. They didn’t make it out.”
“No!” Her friend pulled at his hair, bending at the waist, squatting into a ball. “No! No! No!” He tugged and pulled, pinching his eyes shut.
Jersey watched more blood spread into the faded fabric of Ian’s jeans.
“NO!” Her friend shot up, eyes bloodshot with rage, a jagged board grasped in his right hand. “It ends now,” he gritted through his clenched teeth, taking a step toward Ian. “I love you, Jers. You are mine. He killed them. He played you. You let him inside of you. But you don’t have to be a whore anymore.” He took another step toward Ian. “I’ll save you. We …” he wrapped his other hand around the piece of wood, cocking his arms back like a baseball player readying his swing.
She gave Ian one last glance.
“Be brave and run fast,” he said as if they were his final words. Even in the face of death, he protected her. He risked everything for her. That’s what he did because he was her Guardian.
Kessler swung his jagged board, but it fell to the ground less than a foot from Ian’s head. He fell to the ground with Jersey’s favorite knife lodged into his left eye.
She put her friend down like a rabid animal. It didn’t feel like revenge; in spite of everything, it didn’t feel good or right. He wasn’t in his right mind. The demons won.
“Jersey,” Ian whispered her name with a weak voice.
She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t look at him. How could she not know? How could she not see it? Digging her phone out of her pocket, she dialed 9-1-1.
“Hi. There’s been an accident.” Jersey dropped her phone before pressing End. She dislodged the knife from Chris’s eye.
He jerked, bellowing in agony.
More tears burned her eyes. She thought of all the books he read her, his soothing voice, his comforting touch, but soon they faded, suffocated by the cry of agony. Jersey covered her eyes with her arm, the bloodied knife molded in her hand.
Ian grunted as Kessler covered his bloodied eye and lunged for the knife in Ian’s leg. Jersey grabbed Kessler’s hair, jerked his head back, and cut his throat from shoulder to shoulder.
“We are terrible people,” she whispered, releasing him to the ground, sending him to a different life where he might find a wife and children. A good job. A beautifully boring and completely normal life.
With the bloodied knife, she ripped Kessler’s shirt and used part of it to tie a tourniquet around Ian’s leg.
“Jersey?” Ian reached for her arm.
She gently pulled away, still unable to look at him.
Too much shame and guilt crushed her conscience. She did this … all of it. She brought down a rock star.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Jersey sat on the front steps. The police arrived. The paramedics arrived. Even a fire truck arrived.
They asked her a million questions. She answered none.
They carried Ian out on a stretcher as they put her in the back of a