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“Forget I said anything,” she grumbles.
“Oh, never mind. Logan mentioned you were into girls, so I guess penises don’t really appeal to you.”
She grows quiet for a minute before finally saying, “Logan has a big mouth.”
I shrug, settling back into my seat as I watch the people scream and run, just as I knew they would. I love technology. Delaney’s terror is conveniently wired to my phone.
The Boogeyman doesn’t have shit on me.
“You shouldn’t be ashamed of who are,” I tell her quietly.
“I’m not. I just don’t like people telling my business. Besides, I don’t really put myself in a box. I’m not one hundred percent sure of my sexuality. It’s just…men are attractive but harder to trust than women,” she confesses softly.
I flip through the screens, checking out all the pretty camera placements Jake has found. He was a busy boy last night while I was finishing off Morgan.
“My brother was gay. Jake is bisexual. Jake was too scared to tell anyone he and my brother were in love. People made my brother feel like he was a walking sin or abomination when he came out a few months before they killed him.” I try to say it with no emotion, but it’s a lot of effort.
She sucks in a breath, and I rub my chest where the pain, that always accompanies my brother’s memory, starts to form.
“Jake always says his biggest regret was being too scared to show Marcus how much he meant to him. Marcus knew he wasn’t ashamed of him. He knew how toxic that town was. He didn’t confess his sexuality to prove his love for Jake. He did it to be honest with himself. He never once doubted that Jake loved him.”
“But Jake is doing this to prove his love?” she asks sadly.
“No. He’s doing it because he’s a romantic.”
The confusion on her face doesn’t surprise me, but she doesn’t press for me to elaborate. We drive in relative silence after that, until we’re nearing Delaney Grove. Then the conversation mostly veers toward a few other cases the team is working on.
Jake sends a text while we’re talking, and I read it.
JAKE: Olivia called and said Dad is giving her a hard time about his medicine. I’m going to go take care of that, but I’ll be back soon. Step one of our plan is already in action.
ME: Call me if you need help.
JAKE: Don’t worry about me. Should only take a couple of hours. Just watch the fun stuff. I’m about to send you some pictures you’ll appreciate.
Hadley asks for my opinion on some of those cases, drawing me away from Jake’s texts, and I give it. Then she makes voice memo notes.
“Logan will think I’m twice as genius as he already thinks I am if I go spouting off these facts,” she says, laughing.
But I don’t laugh, because I get distracted. Jake sends me a picture of a street. Of the street. Of the words written in red.
The angels shall come forth, and sever the wicked from among the just, and shall cast them into the furnace of fire. There shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth.
“What?” Hadley asks.
Jake also sends me a picture of Logan studying the message, and I pull up the video footage, watching the man I love as he observes the people around him. Most are pale and terrified.
They know what happened on that spot. They painted over it. Made it black again. Pretended as though the red stains aren’t there just because you can’t see them.
Logan doesn’t seem disturbed or terrorized, just as I knew he wouldn’t. He’s a logical man, after all. He doesn’t believe in ghosts.
But Delaney Grove…they’ll fall to their knees soon.
“I don’t understand why they’re all falling for that,” Hadley states.
“It’s called conditioning. They’ve been conditioned to be sheep. Sheep follow sheep,” I tell her.
“I don’t get it,” she argues.
