Scarlet Angel (Mindf*ck #3)(12)
My hand instinctively tightens on Lana’s hip, and she stirs in her sleep.
“I’m getting some sleep. I’m taking at least a few days, and I mean it. I need several days of straight sleep.”
“And straight sex,” he quips.
Rolling my eyes, I hang up, curl up behind Lana, and she shifts in closer subconsciously, still very much asleep. She’s not screaming or tossing around. There’s a small smile on her lips like all is right with the world.
Thank fuck for that small miracle.
She’s so damn strong. I was waiting on her to break, but she’s impressing me more by the second.
“I love you,” she says, though it’s the confession of a sleeping girl.
My core still tightens, and my body feels like electric wires are coursing over the top of my skin.
Leaning down, I kiss her cheek, smiling as she sighs. And even though I’d rather stay awake and keep my eyes on her all night, the long days finally catch up to me, and I fall asleep with her in my arms.
Chapter 5
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.
—William Shakespeare
LANA
“You’re serious,” I say to Logan, grinning as he nods, not the least bit unsure of himself.
“Alright then,” I say on a sigh, matching his bet, pushing in all my Tootsie Rolls. “Show me what you got.”
He grins before putting down his cards. “Read em’ and weep. Flush, baby.”
It’s when he waggles his eyebrows that I start laughing, because he’s pretty cute when he’s competitive.
“Before you get too excited…”
I put my cards down, and his face falls instantly, causing me to laugh harder as he stares in disbelief at my royal flush.
“But…but…but…”
I pull the Tootsie rolls toward me, and he suddenly launches himself at me, tackling me to the bed as I laugh. His lips find the curve of my neck, and I grin as he kisses a small spot there.
“Somehow, you’re cheating,” he says against my neck.
“I just have an awesome poker face,” I say, winding my legs around his waist.
For three days, I’ve had him all to myself. I’ve heard that time heals all wounds, but that’s not true. Falling in love? That’s what makes you forget your anger. If it wasn’t for my brother and father, my quest for vengeance would be over.
The media is all over my lawn, which is concerning. Jake had to sneak in and check my secret kill room, making sure no one had tampered with it. Fortunately, no one realizes there’s a room inside a room.
Craig went to my house and retrieved my purse and some clothes for me. He had to take them to work—which Logan got bitched at endlessly for requesting, since people are still giving Mr. Pretty Boy hell for carrying a purse into the building. They even checked it at the search point, while he waited in the purse line, apparently seething.
I find this hilarious, of course.
Then, he passed it onto Elise, who put it inside her duffel bag—Craig was pissed that idea never occurred to him—and she brought it and my clothes to us, so that the media wouldn’t learn where we were.
Also, there were some paparazzi shots of Craig carrying my purse. I really love the things that interest the news some times.
I also hate them. Because that makes moving down my kill list harder.
I’m going to have to speed up the timeline once things settle down. My bruised face was splashed all over the newspaper and such, but everyone wants an interview with the girl who killed a man that managed to elude all types of law enforcement.
So, yeah. I didn’t think this all the way through. Being a woman who took down a woman’s nightmare has made me an accidental celebrity. Celebrity status is not fun when you’re a serial killer who needs a low profile.
Logan has gone Peter Pan, essentially sewing himself to me like an errant shadow these past few days. Not that I’m complaining. I could get used to having him to myself so much.
Logan’s phone rings, and he groans, still on top of me, as he reaches over and grabs it. My legs stay wound around his waist, keeping him where he is as he answers.
“Bennett.”
His brow furrows, and he lifts off me, frowning. I release my legs from his waist as he stands up completely.
“When?” When he closes his eyes, his lips tensing in a tight line, I know he has to leave. “Yeah. Don’t tell them not to touch anything. I’ll see if Hadley is up to it and be there as soon as possible.”
He gets off his phone, and he blows out a long breath while studying me. “I need to go speak to Hadley and see if she’s able to work. We just got two bodies from another one of our killers.”
Ice slithers over me. Lawrence and Tyler. They’ve finally been found. By now they’re steaming piles of rot.
“I’ll go talk to her for you,” I tell him, sliding back on the bed. “We sort of bonded with the whole Boogeyman thing.”
He studies me for a long minute. “You sure you’re okay? We haven’t really talked about what went down.”
I nod grimly. “It’s not something I’m ready to move on from just yet, but I’m handling it better than I thought I would.”
It’s misleading, but it’s not a lie. Well, not in the conventional sense. I’m handling the ‘aftermath’ better than I thought I would, considering I expected him to be more suspicious. He just seems relieved that I’m not an inconsolable mess.