Epilogue
Jack
M y eyes are locked on the twin caskets of Ruby and Valentine as I stand at the edge of the Knight mausoleum. My hands tremble slightly around the folded funeral program, the weight of my guilt pressing down on me like a physical force.
The cold wind whips around me, stealing my breath and chilling me to the bone. It feels as if even the elements are mourning today, yet it’s nothing compared to the icy knot in my chest.
A storm of emotions swirls within me—grief, guilt, and a desperate need for absolution. My thoughts drift back to that fateful moment when I accidentally caused Ruby’s death.
I had tried to shoot Valentine, convinced he was about to kill her with the knife pressed against her throat. But after seeing the state Ruby’s body was in, Nick is sure that Valentine pressing his knife against her throat was meant to be a mercy killing.
That might also be why Valentine never shoved her away, and instead allowed my bullet to kill both of them.
Fuck… her body. If I’d known the state she was in, what John Simmons did to her, I’d have given him a lot more than a bullet between the eyes. But I didn’t know then. It seems there’s a lot I didn’t know—like the extent of Ruby’s feelings for Valentine, and, I suppose, his for her.
I can’t shake the scene from my mind—the flash of the gunshot, one bullet; two bodies. Ruby’s lifeless form, the blood staining my sister’s once beautiful face.
Nick stands like an immovable statue, his dark eyes unreadable. His features and stoic demeanor make it impossible to discern his thoughts—a skill he’s mastered over time.
Carolina, in contrast, looks fragile and anxious, her delicate fingers worrying the edge of her black shawl. She catches my eye for a moment, and there’s a flicker of sympathy in her gaze before she looks away.
But it’s the woman standing back at the entrance that truly captures my attention. Her curvy figure is wrapped in a smart, tight black outfit, her elegance almost out of place in this sea of grief.
Long, straight black hair cascades down her shoulders, the lower half dyed a striking blood-red, matching her lipstick and nails. Even from this distance, her gray eyes pierce through me, making my heart race with a strange blend of curiosity and unease.
“Who is she?” I ask Nick under my breath, nodding toward the mysterious woman.
“Never seen her before,” he replies gruffly, his attention never leaving her.
My mind races with questions, but now isn’t the time for answers. The priest’s voice drones on, offering words of comfort that bounce off my numb heart. My gaze remains locked on the enigmatic stranger, unable to shake the feeling that she holds the key to something important.
As the ceremony comes to a close, I force myself to look away from her, acknowledging the finality of my loss. The wind howls through the bare trees just outside, echoing the emptiness within me.
Finished, the priest looks expectantly at me and Nick. I have no idea what he just said, or what he wants from me. But instead of finding out, I turn my back on him and walk over to the unknown woman.
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice gruffer than I intended as I address the intruder.
“I’m Eve Mortis,” she replies calmly, her lips curving into a small smile. “And you must be Jack Knight.”
It’s not surprising that she knows who I am. “Correct,” I say, hesitating for a moment. “What brought you here? You don’t seem like one of Ruby’s friends.” I don’t tell her that I know my sister had none.
“Actually,” Eve begins slowly, her gaze flickering to the twin caskets before returning to me, “I was Valentine’s psychiatrist. I’m here to say goodbye and to pay my respects.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Anger courses through my veins, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “You were his psychiatrist? And you couldn’t stop him from destroying my sister’s life? ”
“Jack, grief can manifest itself in many ways,” she says, her tone measured. “Right now, it seems like you’re projecting your anger onto me. It’s understandable, but misplaced.”
“Understandable?” I spit out, seething. “My sister is dead because of him, and you didn’t do anything to prevent it!”
“Valentine was a highly complex individual, and I did my best to help him navigate his struggles,” she explains, her voice never wavering. “But ultimately, his actions were his own. Not everything can be controlled, and placing blame on others won’t bring her back.”
“Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?” I snap, my vision blurring with unshed tears. “You’re just as guilty as he was.”
“I understand that you’re in pain right now, but I assure you, I did everything in my power to help Valentine,” she says gently. “Sometimes, despite our best efforts, we can’t save everyone.”
Her words echo in my head, the truth of them cutting through my anger like a knife. I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. But as I look into her eyes, I know that my quest for vengeance is far from over.
This woman may hold the key to understanding Valentine’s darkness, and ultimately, finding some semblance of closure for Ruby’s death.
“Fine,” I say grudgingly, my voice thick with emotion. “But don’t think this is the end of it.”
“Perhaps not,” she agrees, her gaze steady and unwavering. “But for now, let us mourn the ones we’ve lost.”
With a sharp nod, I turn back around to watch Nick, Carolina, and the priest talk amongst themselves. Good. It’s what they do best, and no one wants to hear what I have to say, anyway. Especially not today.
A part of me still wants to throw Valentine’s casket into a ditch, but Carolina’s insistence stopped me. She argued that doing so would be an insult to Ruby, who died trying to save him.
As I stand there, staring at the resting place of my sister and the man who tore apart our lives, my mind drifts back to the conversation with Eve Mortis.
Her calm demeanor and measured words still haunt me. I can’t shake the feeling that she knows more about Valentine’s darkness than she lets on. Perhaps, if I dig deeper, I’ll find the answers I seek to help me make sense of this tragedy.
As I look up, I realize she’s gone. With a heavy sigh, I force myself to turn away from the mausoleum, ignoring Carolina’s and Nick’s pleas for me to stay with them. Every step feels like a betrayal, yet I know I have no choice. If I am ever to find justice for Ruby, I must leave her behind, at least for now.
Outside, I see Eve walk away in the distance, her pace brisk, and her head downturned as she looks at her phone. I keep a cautious distance as I follow Eve through the winding streets, my senses on high alert. Her graceful stride stands out against the backdrop of the bustling city, but I remain unseen, a silent shadow in pursuit.
My mind races with possibilities for making her pay. If it hadn’t been for her, if she had done her job properly, Valentine would never have entered Ruby’s life, and she’d still be alive. As I stalk her, my hatred for Eve grows stronger, a dark fire consuming me from within.
Eventually, she arrives at a building that exudes professionalism. The sign above the entrance reads ‘Mortis Psychotherapy and Behavioral Clinic.’ So this is where she works, I think, the bitter taste of irony lingering on my tongue.
As I watch her disappear inside, I can’t stop thinking about how fitting it is that someone connected to Valentine’s twisted world would specialize in unraveling the minds of others.
I stay outside, debating whether or not I should go inside. I hadn’t planned on this, but something about that woman, Eve Mortis, her connection to Valentine—it fuels my rage, propelling me forward. My hands ball into fists at my sides as indecision wages war within me.
“Fuck it,” I mutter under my breath, taking a deep breath before pushing open the door with more force than necessary.
The sound of the door slamming against the wall echoes through the reception area, announcing my presence like an angry thunderclap. I stride directly toward the reception desk, each step heavy with determination.
“ Can I help you?” the receptionist asks, her voice wavering slightly at my brusque entrance.
“I want to make an appointment with Dr. Eve Mortis,” I respond, my voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil raging inside me.
“Of course,” she replies, tapping away at her computer, her eyes wide with apprehension. “Let’s see… we have an opening next Thursday afternoon. Will that work for you?”
“Perfect,” I say, my jaw tense as I imagine what it’ll be like to face her one-on-one as a client. To peel back the layers of her carefully crafted exterior and uncover the truth.
“Great,” the receptionist says, still nervously typing. “May I have your name, please?”
“Jack Knight.”
“Thank you, Mr. Knight. You’re all set. Please arrive fifteen minutes early to fill out some paperwork.”
“Thanks,” I reply tersely, then turn on my heel and stalk back out of the clinic.
As I step into the cold air, the fury in my veins is momentarily tempered by a growing sense of determination. It’s only a matter of time before I take on Eve Mortis and make her pay for her role in all this madness.
“Your time will come, Doctor,” I whisper under my breath. “I promise you that.”