MARRY YOUR KILLER
Chapter Seventy: The Ghost
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The old Watson house was dark when they arrived.
The rain had stopped. The clouds had parted. The moon was full. The garden where Keifer had almost married Ava was dead. The flowers were brown. The grass was dry. The arch where they had stood was falling apart. The chairs were stacked against the wall. The white ribbons were gray with dust.
Jay stood at the gate. Keifer was beside her. Freya was behind her. Rakki was at the front. Ci N was with her, his face pale, his hands steady. Mayo and Kit were at the back. Grace and Denzel were at the side. Care was at the van, her medical bag open, her hands ready. Cole was beside her.
Percy was at the gate, his face hard, his gun drawn. Aries was beside him. Alex was behind them, his hands empty, his face blank, his eyes on the house where Lyra had died.
Mica's voice was in Jay's ear. "He's inside. Alone. He's been waiting for you."
Jay's hand went to her knife. "Then let's not keep him waiting."
She walked through the gate.
---
The house was empty.
The rooms were dark. The walls were bare. The floors were dusty. The place where Keifer had grown up, the place where his father had died, the place where he had almost married a woman he didn't love. It was a ghost house. A memory. A wound that would not close.
Jay walked to the study. The room where Keizer had sat. The room where Yuri had saved Keifer's life. The room where Ava had waited. The room where Lyra had died.
Michel Larsen was there.
He was sitting in Keizer's chair. His hair was blonde. His eyes were blue. His suit was black. He was holding a glass of wine. He looked like a king. He looked like a ghost. He looked like nothing.
He looked up when Jay walked in. His face was calm. His eyes were cold.
"Jasper Jean Mariano Watson," Michel said. "I've been waiting for this moment for a very long time."
Jay walked to the desk. Her knife was in her hand. Her face was calm. "You killed Lyra."
Michel's face didn't change. "Kiko killed Lyra. I just watched."
Jay's hand tightened on her knife. "You were there. You watched her die. You didn't try to stop it. You didn't try to help. You watched."
Michel stood up. His glass was empty. His hands were empty. "I watched. I wanted her to die. I wanted all of you to die. I wanted Keifer to suffer. I wanted you to suffer. I wanted to watch your world burn."
Keifer stepped forward. His face was pale. His hands were fists. "Why? Why did you do this? What did we ever do to you?"
Michel laughed. It was a cold sound. "What did you do to me? Your families destroyed mine. Your grandfather killed my father. Your uncle killed my brother. Your war killed everyone I ever loved. And now—" He stepped closer. His face was inches from Keifer's. "Now I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill all of you. I'm going to watch your world burn, the way you watched mine."
He raised his hand. The men came from the shadows. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Their guns were raised. Their faces were covered. Their eyes were empty.
"You think you can stop me?" Michel said. "You think you can win? I've been planning this for twenty years. I have money. I have power. I have an army. And you—" He looked at Jay. At Keifer. At the people behind them. "You have nothing."
Jay raised her knife. Keifer raised his gun. "We have each other."
---
The fight began.
Men poured from the shadows. Freya was there, her knife moving, her face sharp. Rakki was at the front, her chaos banked into something cold. Ci N was beside her, his hands steady, his face hard. Mayo and Kit were at the back, fighting together. Grace and Denzel were at the side, their fists bloody.
Percy was in the center, his gun drawn, his voice loud. Aries was beside him, their hands steady. Alex was behind them, his hands empty, his face blank, his eyes on Michel.
Jay moved through the room. Her knife was red. Her face was calm. Keifer was beside her, his gun drawn, his eyes sharp. They moved together, back to back, the way they had learned in the garden, the way they had learned in the war.
Men fell. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. The room was filled with bodies. The floor was slick with blood. The walls were marked with bullets. The windows were shattered. The house was falling apart.
Michel stood at the center. His hands were empty. His face was calm. His eyes were on Jay.
"You're strong," Michel said. "Stronger than your father. Stronger than your uncle. Stronger than all of them."
Jay walked toward him. Her knife was in her hand. "I'm stronger than you."
He laughed. "We'll see."
---
He moved faster than she expected.
His knife was in his hand. His face was cold. He had been waiting. He had been planning. He had been training for this moment his whole life.
Jay blocked. He struck again. She blocked again. He was strong. He was fast. He was everything she had faced before and more. She was on her knees. Her knife was gone. Her hands were empty. Her shoulder was bleeding. Keifer was across the room, fighting the last of Michel's men. He couldn't reach her. No one could reach her.
Michel stood over her. His knife was raised. His face was calm. His eyes were cold.
"Goodbye, Mrs. Watson," Michel said.
---
The shot came from the window.
Jay heard it before she saw it. The crack of glass. The whistle of air. The sound of something moving too fast, too close. Michel's knife fell. His hand was bleeding. His face was white. He turned. He looked at the window. At the place where the shot had come from.
The woman stepped out of the shadows.
She was tall. Her hair was black. Her mask was black. Her clothes were black. She was a shadow. A ghost. A weapon. Her gun was raised. Her face was hidden behind the black mask. Her eyes were visible. They were sharp. They were steady. They were cold.
She walked toward Michel. Her steps were silent. Her hands were steady. Her gun was aimed at his chest.
"You," Michel said. His face was white. "You're supposed to be dead."
The woman didn't answer. She walked to him. She stood in front of him. Her gun was at his head. Her mask was black. Her face was hidden.
"I watched you die," Michel said. "I watched you fall. I watched the blood. I watched—"
"You watched," the woman said. Her voice was low. Her voice was familiar. "You watched and you didn't do anything. You watched and you let her die. You watched and you—"
She stopped. Her hands were shaking. Her voice was cracking.
Michel laughed. It was a broken sound. "You think killing me will bring her back? You think—"
The woman pulled the trigger.
Michel fell. His body was heavy. His face was pale. His eyes were open. His hands were empty. The woman stood over him. Her gun was empty. Her hands were steady. Her mask was black. Her face was hidden.
She turned. She walked toward the door. Her steps were silent. Her hands were empty. Her mask was black.
---
"Wait," Jay said.
The woman stopped. She didn't turn. Her back was to Jay. Her hands were at her sides. Her mask was black. Her face was hidden.
Jay stood up. Her legs were shaking. Her shoulder was bleeding. Her face was wet. She walked toward the woman. Her steps were slow. Her voice was steady.
"Lyra," Jay said.
The woman's back went rigid. Her hands tightened. Her breath caught. The room was silent. Everyone was watching. Everyone was waiting.
"Lyra," Jay said again. Her voice was stronger now. "I know it's you. I know your voice. I know your hands. I know the way you move. I know—"
The woman turned. Her mask was black. Her face was hidden. Her eyes were visible. They were sharp. They were steady. They were familiar. They were sad.
"I'm not Lyra," she said.
Jay stared at her. "Take off the mask. Let me see your face."
The woman shook her head. "I can't."
"Why?"
"Because Lyra is dead. Lyra died in this house. Lyra died saving you. Lyra is gone. And if you see my face, you'll see her. You'll see her and you'll hope. And hope will break you."
Jay's hands were shaking. "Then who are you? Why do you sound like her? Why do you move like her? Why do you—"
The woman stepped closer. Her mask was black. Her face was hidden. Her eyes were steady. "I'm someone who knew her. Someone who loved her. Someone who made a promise to protect you. To keep you safe. To make sure she didn't die for nothing."
Jay reached for the mask. Her hand was shaking. "Let me see you. Please."
The woman stepped back. Her hand was up. Her eyes were hard.
"Don't," she said.
Jay's hand fell. Her face was wet. "Why? Why won't you let me see you? Why won't you tell me who you are? Why do you keep saving me and then disappearing?"
The woman looked at her. Her eyes were soft. Her voice was quiet. "Because some things are better left unknown. Because some doors should not be opened. Because some ghosts should stay buried."
She stepped back. She turned toward the door.
"Lyra," Jay called.
The woman stopped. She didn't turn.
"Please," Jay said. "Please. I need to know. I need to—"
The woman's voice was low. "You need to let her go. You need to let her rest. You need to live the life she died to protect."
She walked out. She disappeared into the night.
---
The room was silent.
Jay stood at the window. The woman was gone. The garden was dark. The gate was empty. The street was quiet. There was nothing. There was no one.
Percy walked to her. His face was pale. "Was it her? Was it Lyra?"
Jay didn't answer. She couldn't answer. She didn't know.
Aries was beside Percy. Their face was calm. Their eyes were not. "She moved like her. She fought like her. She sounded like her."
Care was at the door. Cole was beside her. "She knew things. Things only Lyra would know. The house. The fight. The way to save Jay. The way to—"
She stopped. Her voice cracked.
Alex was in the corner. His hands were in his pockets. His face was blank. His eyes were on the window where the woman had disappeared.
"It wasn't her," Alex said. His voice was empty. "Lyra is dead. Lyra died in this house. I watched her die. I held her. I felt her blood on my hands. She's gone. She's not coming back."
He walked out of the room. He didn't look back.
---
The night was ending when they left the old Watson house.
The sun was rising. The sky was gold. The garden was dead. The arch was falling. The chairs were stacked. The ribbons were gray. The house was empty. Michel was dead. The war was over.
Jay stood at the gate. Keifer was beside her. His hand was in hers.
"Was it her?" Keifer asked. "Was it Lyra?"
Jay looked at the house. At the window where the woman had appeared. At the place where she had saved her. At the place where she had disappeared.
"I don't know," Jay said. "She said she wasn't Lyra. She said Lyra is dead. She said she made a promise to protect me. To keep me safe. To make sure she didn't die for nothing."
Keifer pulled her close. "Then we find her. We find her and we ask her. We find her and we—"
Jay looked at him. Her face was wet. "What if she doesn't want to be found? What if she wants to stay a ghost? What if she—"
He kissed her forehead. "Then we wait. We wait until she's ready. We wait until she wants to come home."
Jay leaned against him. Her head was on his shoulder. "What if she never comes home?"
He held her. "She will. She saved us. She'll come back."
---
The car was waiting. Jay walked to it. She opened the door. She stopped.
Alex was sitting in the back seat. His face was blank. His hands were empty. His eyes were on the window. On the house where Lyra had died. On the place where the woman had appeared.
"Alex," Jay said.
He didn't look at her. "It wasn't her."
Jay got in beside him. She took his hand. "You don't know that."
He looked at her. His face was wet. "I want it to be her. I want it more than anything. I want her to be alive. I want her to come back. I want to see her face. I want to hear her voice. I want to tell her—" His voice cracked. He stopped.
Jay pulled him close. Her arms were around him. "I know. I know."
He held her. His hands were shaking. His face was in her hair. "She's gone. She's gone and she's never coming back."
Jay held him. "We don't know that. We don't know anything."
---
The sun was rising over Manila.
The city was waking up. The war was over. Michel was dead. The woman was gone. The ghost was a mystery. The mystery was a wound. The wound was healing. Slowly. Carefully. One day at a time.
Jay sat in the car. Keifer was beside her. His hand was in hers. Alex was in the back, his face blank, his eyes on the window. Percy was driving. Aries was beside him. Care was in the van with Cole. Grace was with Denzel. Kit was with Mayo. Freya was with Erdix. Rakki was with Ci N. Ella was with Mica. They were all there. They were all waiting. They were all wondering.
"Who was she?" Percy asked. His voice was low. "If she wasn't Lyra, who was she?"
Jay looked at the window. At the city. At the light. At the place where the woman had disappeared.
"I don't know," Jay said. "But she knew Lyra. She loved Lyra. She made a promise to protect us. And I'm going to find out who she is."
Keifer squeezed her hand. "We're going to find out. Together."
Jay looked at him. "Together."
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END OF CHAPTER SEVENTY