Paint It All Red (Mindf*ck #5)(51)

“Yeah. We’re just a typical romance,” she deadpans, but her lips lift in a small smile.

“Horror romance. That’s a genre, right?” I ask, smiling when she laughs.

She spins, turning to walk backwards as she faces me.

“You want me to be honest?” she asks, biting her lip.

I grab her waist, loving the way she laughs when I lift her.

“Yes,” I say, nipping her chin before kissing it.

Her legs slide around my waist as she tightens her hold on me, and I continue to carry us in the direction of the boat.

She grins as she says, “It’s my favorite horror story of all time.”

I grin against her lips as we reach the pier, and she slides down to walk beside me, locking our fingers together. She’s getting giddy. I can feel it.

There’s something you need to learn about loving a girl like Lana. She had to open something up inside herself to do what it took to end Delaney Grove’s reign of terror.

And that something can’t just be locked away.

She has special needs. Needs that I tend to once a year, because I love keeping her sane. And she can’t live in denial of who she is.

We load up on the yacht, and she takes care of pouring the champagne, while I get us away from the pier and start driving us out into the ocean. We toast the champagne, and I brush my lips over hers as she stays close.

We’re floating with no land in sight before I anchor us down and check the monitors to make sure we’re completely alone and no one can bother us.

She flashes me a smile, anticipation sparking in her eyes.

“You ready for your present?” I ask her.

She grins.

“Yes.”

I tug her hand in mine and guide her to the lower deck. She follows, practically walking on my heels in her excitement. As soon as we reach the downstairs and her eyes fall on her present, she stops walking, her smile growing bigger.

“Where’d you get this?” she asks.

“It was actually a favor called in from a friend. Apparently, this one has raped numerous girls up and down the coast, but his father’s diplomatic immunity status has prohibited anyone from being able to touch him. They were in the process of getting that status revoked when his father sent him back to Columbia.”

Her eyes flash with excitement, as Juan Alvarez’s eyes widen, and he struggles, cursing us through his gag. Lana tilts her head, watching him as he jerks against the chains.

“And you trust the source?” she asks, looking Juan over, her fingers itching to take action.

“Leonard’s the one who called. The last girl was just fifteen, and he slit her throat. I trust Leonard, and I reviewed the file myself. They have enough physical evidence to prove it, and he hasn’t bothered denying it. They just can’t touch him.”

She gets up on her toes, smiling as she kisses me. Juan continues to struggle in vain.

“Thank you,” she murmurs as I hand her the knife.

She clutches it as her body shudders with the impending high. Too much steals her soul. Too little could cause her to lash out from denying what she had to become.

But once a year? That’s just right. And Leonard uses that to his advantage, because not all monsters can go to prison.

Lana’s unique, and I wouldn’t change anything about her. Because now I see the world the way it really is, and I know my only place is right by her side.

I move in behind her as she cuts on the music, and my arms go around her waist as we sway to the rhythm. She’s eager to get to work, but savoring the moment, taunting him with the hope he hasn’t released just yet.

Her head falls back against my chest as she revels in the moment, drawing it out.

I put my lips against her ear and whisper, “Happy anniversary, baby.”



THE END.