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“Need me to recite some of those details of all the horrible things he did to wipe that horror off your face?” I ask.
She shakes her head vigorously. “I can’t stomach hearing anything else that psycho has done. I just… You skinned him alive?”
I nod. “Yep. I was careful to remove the skin piece by piece and only the top layers, so that he didn’t bleed too much during my fun.”
I pull my knife free from Lisa’s picture, then g
rab her picture—that I printed off from Hadley’s computer—and toss the annihilated photo into the trash, covering it with some other rubbish.
“That’s not creepy at all,” Hadley mutters.
“I torture and kill men. Being creepy should be a given.”
She studies me, and a frown creases her lips.
“You’re even colder than usual.”
“Usually I have more time with Logan after facing the worst side of me to do what needs to be done. Lisa was eager to interrupt that this morning, and it’s fortunate I have my killer on a leash. She pushed at all the wrong times. I need cooling down periods after going that dark. It’s how I keep my sanity. I’ve had to raise the timelines, losing a piece of myself with each kill.”
I follow her out, and considering the jammed up streets, we elect to walk, moving briskly down the sidewalk.
“I’m worried about you, Lana. You’re telling me you’re losing yourself and struggling with not murdering Lisa.”
I roll my eyes. “If I was going to kill her, I would have already done it while everyone was distracted with Kyle’s flayed body.”
She gags, and I smirk.
“Seriously. You’re normally not this cold and detached,” she says as we walk toward the town where the chaos I unleashed is fully at play.
I wanted to see the looks on their faces when they discovered Kyle, but knew it wasn’t smart to be present. Jake and I drove like hell to get back in time to hang the body, and I still haven’t slept.
“I’m almost done,” I say as I ignore the tremor in my hand.
Killing Kyle the way I did… Digging deep enough to give him the true torture he deserved over such a limited amount of time… A lot was taken out of me. I felt rushed, and I made him pay for it.
I don’t regret anything but not having more time to draw out his suffering.
“She’s a bitch, I know. But she doesn’t deserve any of your stabby urges.”
I hold my hands up innocently, absently listening to the sobs of the people I may or may not have scarred for life. As of this morning, they no longer fear the sheriff who has always protected his son. Now they fear the one person who can break the untouchable.
They belong to me now.
The flock have a new shepherd to fear. Baa, bitches.
“I’m not going to stab her. Promise.”
My emotions aren’t in check the way they normally are. They’re all over the place, and the memories I’ve controlled with each kill ran awry, stirring up all the feelings I iced so long ago. It’s killing me not to go for the endgame now. Not to hit the sheriff before the shock of his son wears off.
I want him to marinate in his grief for longer than a few moments though. I want him broken before I arrive for the next phase.
“You got sloppy with counter forensics. You should have dragged him.”
“I’d have been caught.”
“They know you have a partner.”
“I’m aware.”
