Shattered (LOST #3)(64)

So he exhibits more traits linked with psychopathy . . .

Because he was organized. He was calculated. Sociopaths were disjointed, their attacks more random and out of control.

Not with this guy. He was a planner. Like a chess master. Every move led to another and another and . . .

His endgame.

That endgame seemed to be the destruction of Sarah’s life . . . and of her friends? Because when he’d taken Molly, that move had deliberately drawn in the LOST team. At the initial explosion, just blocks from Bourbon Street, Wade had been the first one in the building.

Wade always goes in first. That was left over from his cop days. If anyone had studied Wade, they would have known that . . .

Then when they’d gone to the riverfront, searching for Molly, the bombs had been set in those buildings—buildings that Gabe and Dean had been searching.

And Gabe had been shot just hours before. She’d looked at the back of the car. All of the bullet holes had been concentrated on his side of the vehicle.

He’s targeting my friends.

“Dr. Jacobs?”

Her head whipped up as Sarah was pulled from her thoughts.

Carlos stood in front of her. “Jax asked me to come and get you.”

Get her? “I’m not leaving. I need to talk to Molly in order to clear Jax.”

“He’s not at the police station. His lawyer already took care of things there.” Carlos stood with his hands loose at his sides. “He wants you to meet him at Shade. He’s on the way to that bar now.” He glanced around when a nurse passed him. “He figured he’d better not show up here, not until the mess with the Guthrie woman is cleared up.”

Right. Because he couldn’t exactly waltz close to Molly’s room without raising some serious suspicion. But she shook her head. “I’m not done here. I can’t leave, not until I talk with her.”

Carlos’s eyes narrowed. “Most people don’t refuse Jax.”

“And I’m not most people.” Her mind was still racing. Two LOST agents were in the hospital. She needed to make sure that no one else wound up hurt.

“I think that’s why the boss is so interested in you,” he murmured.

Right then, Molly’s door opened. A young doctor came out, a guy with brown hair and a small pair of glasses perched on his nose. “Doctor!” Sarah hurried toward him. She flashed him her LOST ID, but he just frowned at it. “I need to speak with Molly.”

“You’re not a cop.”

“Uh, no, no, I’m not, but—”

“You’re family?”

“She doesn’t have any family left.”

The cops behind him were shifting nervously.

“Look, if you’d just let me talk to her . . .”

“Let her through, Doc.”

She glanced over at that hard voice and saw Detective West marching down the hallway. His badge was clipped to his belt.

“Let her through,” he said again. Detective Cross was right behind him. So was . . . wait, was that other guy Jax’s lawyer? Yes, she remembered seeing him before.

“I think she should hear this,” Cross said, his face smug.

Sarah’s stomach knotted. Whatever he wanted her to hear, it couldn’t be good.

JAX PACED INSIDE his bar, rage still filling him. No matter what he did, there were always going to be people who thought he was nothing but a criminal. A thug straight from the streets.

He looked down at his hands. Saw the tats there. Remembered the blood that had covered his knuckles before.

Maybe he should be rotting a jail cell someplace. But he’d tried to make a difference. Tried to change.

Let me out! Daddy! Daddy!

His voice, from so long ago. He’d begged and begged, but he’d never seen his real dad again. He’d given up on Jax.

Jax grabbed the tequila. His fingers were tight around the bottle. Sarah was on her way to him. Sarah . . . Sarah believed in him. She didn’t know all his secrets, but she’d still been there, defending him to the cops.

Sarah.

And that bastard is trying to kill Sarah.

He threw the bottle across the bar. It hit the mirror and shattered. No, not on his watch. No one was going to hurt Sarah.

Where the fuck is Carlos? The guy should have been back with Sarah by then. He should have . . .

Jax’s phone rang. He grabbed it, but . . . he didn’t know the number flashing on the screen. Jax lifted the phone to his ear. “Who the hell is this?”

“I’m the man who’s going to slice your Sarah into pieces . . .”

MOLLY GUTHRIE WAS small, bruised and . . . broken. Her eyes were red, bloodshot, and tremors shook her body.

“Look at the pictures,” Brent was telling her. “And I want you to point to the man who did this to you.”

She was staring at the pictures. Biting her lip. Shaking her head. “H-He isn’t there . . .”

Sarah saw Cross tense.

“Take your time,” Brent told her softly. “Look and be very sure.”

Molly glanced up at him. “I—I told you. It was Jax Fontaine.” Her voice was raspy, as if she’d been crying for a very long time and her body seemed to be covered with bandages.

Jax Fontaine’s picture was right in front of her. But Molly didn’t recognize him.