Paint It All Red (Mindf*ck #5)(5)

Chapter 2


By that sin, fell the angels.

—William Shakespeare



LANA



Alyssa Murdock grimaces as she takes a sip of her drink, unaware that I’m watching her through the trees. Every time her shirt rises up, I see the bruises on her back.

Hearing it and seeing it are two different things.

Very few of my victims have children. Alyssa is the only offspring who isn’t an adult.

At eight, she’s still a child, with far too many bruises in her history, and too many scars on her heart. Despite the shit-hand life has dealt me, I never once felt the strike of my father’s anger. He never hit me. I was doted on and loved. As a child should be.

But Greg Murdock has hit his daughter too many times.

He gets bumped up on the list because of that.

Turning away and leaving her to hide her bruises in front of her friends who are playing on the treehouse with her, I pull my hood back up and leave my lurking shadows.

Hadley’s number silently flashes on my screen again, and I ignore her call once more. My eyes flit over her text, and a twinge of guilt hits me, even though no other emotion is infiltrating the barrier I have in place right now.



HADLEY: Logan knows!



I know she’s worried, which is why she keeps calling. But right now, in this moment, I don’t trust myself to speak to anyone.

Since Jake left earlier, my tears have all dried up, and my heart keeps garnering a new layer of ice with each passing moment.

I’m back in survival mode, shutting off everything to keep from drowning in the pain. If I allow myself to feel right now, I’ll never stop crying.

And there is no time for tears.



ME: I know. Look after yourself. Don’t worry about me.



ME: And thank you for accepting me and understanding.



My finger hovers over the option to send that last message, but I finally press it and turn my phone off, removing the battery. Then I head back toward the house we’ve commandeered, courtesy of the Dalia family that only lives here during the Christmas season and summer.

It’s secluded, the house hidden from the main road by a veil of thick trees. Only a slender driveway leads to the home, and we have sensors in to alert us if anyone passes over them.

The end is coming.

But I almost don’t even care anymore.

My dispassion is just one repercussion of turning numb to survive.

A car rolls by me as I walk down the long driveway, and I glance over, seeing Jake’s eyes meet mine through the window. I cut my gaze away, because he’s searching me, watching me, worrying about my intentions now that the light is officially gone.

My brother sacrificed his own life to save mine. Even without Logan standing by me, I owe it to my brother to survive, regardless if it is a soulless, empty existence. I just don’t have the drive to make that my ultimate goal any longer.

My main priority is to see this through, grant my brother’s dying wish, and finally lay to rest all the misery from the past.

Jake drives on, parking at the end of the driveway, and he gets out, heading straight toward me.

“So you disappeared into the woods again?” Jake asks.

“I did some recon. Hitting Murdock tonight.”

“Tonight?” he asks, a worried note to his tone.

“I need something to stab, and he needs to be stabbed. Seems like we could help each other out,” I tell him dryly.

He grabs my arm, halting me from walking by, and I stare into his concerned eyes.

“Lana, take a minute and regroup. Logan—”

“Logan is a guy who was never meant to be in my life,” I answer coldly, ignoring the trickle of pain that slowly starts sparking across my heart.

I suppress the urge to rub my chest, knowing it would give me away, and I walk inside the house with Jake following me. When I turn around, I hate what I see.

So much pity is staring at me right now through my best friend’s eyes.

“You should see this,” he says, pulling out his phone. “I spoke to Logan.”

My eyes widen, and my mouth falls open. “What?! Why would you risk that?”

“I didn’t risk anything, and for you, nothing is too big of a risk. He wouldn’t hear your words, so I made him listen.” He turns and walks away, but I follow on his heels.

I blink back the tears I’ve barely been staving off all day. “You had no right,” I growl.

He spins, facing me as he walks backwards.

“He figured out all the good parts by himself by the time he found me. Don’t worry, Lana. I’m playing the game your way.”

My feet freeze to their spot, and that coldness reforms, stealing away the tears that almost fell. It’s as though Jake sees it, because his face falls.

“I’m not playing a game, and there’s no longer a prize.”

He groans as I pass him. “Damn it, Lana. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I do know it. I need to go for another run, and then we’ll talk about tonight’s murder.”

He grabs my wrist, and I react, slinging him around and coming down on top of him as he crashes to the living room floor. He grunts as I pin him, working all my muscles to hold him in place.

“How is it that we both took all those damn classes, but you’re the fucking master and I still feel intermediate.”