Charming In Handcuffs

Chapter 18: Too Much Hope

"There was blood...a lot of blood..." Jack breathed. He continued turning his hands back and forth like there was blood on his hands now.

            I walked up to him, taking his hands gently in mine. His hands were shaking and I was barely able to calm him, "What else do you remember, Jack?"

            His eyes drifted away from mine, looking everywhere but at me. His breathing slowly became rapid until he was almost hyperventilating. His face twisted in horror, as if he was probably reliving that night and everything that happened. "Jack, what happened?"

            He shook his hands and stepped away from me, "No."

            "No what?"

            "I can't...tell you. I can't..."

            I gripped his forearms, almost letting my fingernails dig into his skin, "You need to tell someone. Let me help you this time."

            His brown eyes rested on my face and he stepped back away from me again, "I remember all the blood and someone else. Everything...it's still blurry but it's coming back to me. I don't know how I lost all that time..." He gripped his hair like he was attempting to pull it out. "I remember going out to a bar with some friends, a scream, and a lot of blood." He turned away from me and started pacing his room, "There was so much blood." He stopped, and dropped down on the edge of his bed.

            Jack put his face in his hands and let out a long breath.

            I kneeled in front of him, crossing my arms over his legs so I could look up at him, "You need to tell them. Tell them everything you know."

            He lifted his head and started shaking his head, "No, I can't. They won't let me."

            "They?"

            "My parents."

            "This could help—"

            "I know." He said softly, "My mom and dad both told me if I even remember anything, not to tell." He paused, "It's not clear anyway. I still don't know if it was me. The blood...it wasn't mine. I remember that. And there was a gun, but I don't know if I was holding it."

            I stood up from the floor and sat down next to him on his bed, "The other suspects, did you know them?"

            Jack looked at me, almost confused, "I have no idea who they are. I've never seen them before a day in my life."

            "They could've been at the bar with you."

            "I guess..." He turned away and put his head in his hands again, "I still don't know if I did it, Juliet. I couldn't have. I wouldn't have. I also know I didn't leave the house that day with a gun. I don't even have one and neither do my parents. Where would I have gotten one?" It was more of a question to himself than to me.

            I scooted closer to him and wrapped an arm around his back, "Did something trigger this? Like did you see something that could've triggered your memories?"

            He loosely pointed to the bathroom, "I cut myself shaving and the sight of blood must have because that's all I remember from that night. It's not enough to help me at all."

            "Maybe there's a way to trigger something else. We can get your memories back and you can get out of this."

            He dropped his hands and looked at me with hopeful eyes, "How can I? I don't remember what I did—" He stopped and looked over my shoulder, "I do remember I wasn't alone, but I couldn't tell you who it was. I don't remember the friends I went out with." He looked down at his lap and let out a soft sigh, "I was drinking...but my lawyer's trying to hide that. It wasn't even that much. Definitely not enough to lose a few hours." His eyes turned from hopeful to sad when he looked at me again, "I don't even know who the man was, Juliet. I have no motive to kill anyone."