“He’d tell us that Kyle Davenport might be the worst fucking person in the world and get away with it if I hadn’t been the one to survive and come back to collect his debt,” I say more seriously.
“And he’d say that the sheriff would get away with just as much, and no one would ever stand up to him,” he adds, the same serious tone.
“What would he say about Logan?” I ask as Logan lifts his phone, probably trying to find a teammate.
They’re waiting for Kyle, probably planning to watch him and see if anyone pays him any attention. I’ve already laid eyes on him. He’s right in the middle of the line, waiting his turn.
My stomach roils every time I see his face, so I refuse to keep looking. This will be the hardest one to find control. I’ll want to slice the flesh from his body over and over and over… Rage will be evident.
Unless I completely skin the fucker.
The haunted house is not really a house at all. It’s four large trailers that have holes cut in the fronts and backs, and they’re wedged together on the street, supported by blocks underneath. They’ll be wheeled back tomorrow, stored away until next year.
I doubt there will be a next year.
Kyle runs a hand through his dark hair, squeezing the ass of the girl with him who doesn’t look happy to be with him. He was too rough all those years ago when I stupidly dated him. I can only imagine he’s worse now, given the shiner on her eye.
Forcing my eyes away, I turn to Jake, waiting for him to answer. He looks lost in thought, and I start to think he never heard me.
“He’d say it was too coincidental not to mean something,” he finally answers, the words sounding almost reverent.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what are the odds of you running into the lead FBI agent on your case? And falling for him? And him falling for you? Your paths were meant to cross, but he wasn’t meant to stop you, or he already would have. Even I, a man of pure science, cannot belittle what you have by labeling it with mere coincidence. Maybe he was meant to drag out your humanity the most right when you needed it.”
His eyes soften as he looks over at me.
“I’m sorry. I know each kill dulls you more. You got the worst end of this job. Just helping what little bit I have has seared pieces of my soul that I can’t get back.”
My lips purse as I resume watching Logan. “He makes me feel,” I say, though it’s something I’ve said many times before. “My soul actually feels restored with the kills as long as I have him afterwards.”
“He keeps you grounded and firmly attached to reality so you don’t end up like the profile.” He reaches over and squeezes my knee before kissing my cheek.
I give him a brittle smile as he presses his forehead against mine.
“He gives you a reason to want a future,” he adds quietly. “And through him, you found a piece of yourself you thought you’d lost. That’s given me hope for a future one day too, Lana. So maybe Marcus was right. Fate is a fucking cold-hearted bitch, but everything has a purpose.”
I snort and wipe away a tear, while he smirks and looks straight forward, leaning away from me. The lost, pained look in his gaze lets me know he’s thinking of all he and Marcus might have been, even though he says he never thinks of that.
Too many tears have fallen after I swore I’d never let another tear fall. I guess Jake is right about Logan bringing back out my humanity.
He can’t stop me from being a monster though.
If he was meant to stop me, he already would have, just like Jake said.
Kyle steps closer to the front of the line, and Chad Briggs moves with him. His second deputy accompanying him is Trevor Byron. Two more are stationed near the front, where the Sin House ends.
Those two will survive.
For tonight, anyway.
They’re on my kill list, but I think it’d be a little overly ambitious to try and take out five in one night. After all, I’m just one little girl.
Smirking, I watch as they get closer.
“Show time,” Jake tells me, handing me the wig/mask.
I’m already dressed in my jumpsuit. The padding will disguise my build and my weight. I pat my pocket, checking for the syringe. It’s still there.