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I roll to my side, thinking about what he told me last night about the monster he thinks lives inside of him, the fear he will lose control with me. I know he won’t. I know by his touch, his need, his protective nature, and his possessiveness. In the arms of the man who calls himself a monster, I feel safer, more protected, and more alive than I ever have in my life.
I hate to even think about the fact that I always lived in the shadow of my sister. I love her and would go back in time to stop what happened. It feels wrong to think about the fact that, for the first time, I feel like I am my own person, and a man, a beautiful man, wants me. Just Lo. It feels selfish to be content, happy, and unafraid.
I sit up and pull my knees to my chest, watching Boots and Socks lying side by side. My chest squeezes, and I close my eyes tightly. Brothers.
Boots reminds me of Heidi, always stronger, and Socks reminds me of me, the scaredy-cat.
I lean down and scratch under their chins. “We’re getting stronger.”
I don’t want to deceive Jason. He told me his deepest, darkest secrets, the ones I didn’t already know. However, I can’t give him back the same. I can’t let him know what I have planned. If I get away with it, I will be able to give a name to my feelings for him. I will be able to do that and not worry about the ramifications to him or to me if he can’t tell me the same back. I will be strong enough to deal with the loss that may follow.
I am falling in love with a man who calls me an angel and himself a monster. He has no idea that the opposite is true. I hope he never will.
I look in the mirror and sigh. “Today, you are not Lo. Today, you become stronger. Today, you get answers so that, maybe tomorrow, this can end for you and for them.”
I am Hi. I have to be. I need the strength I feel when I pretend to be her.
I sit in the car, feeling stronger. I have on my wig, dark glasses, and I am ready. I open my bag and see the gun and know why. Today, I am armed. If I am found or if one of them comes after me, I won’t be vulnerable.
I look in the rearview mirror and nod at myself. I have on my armor. “Today, I am Hi.”
Adrian, Charlotte, and Waters are my prime suspects. Waters has become the one I believe most capable. He obviously has a dark side since I followed him into The Lion’s Den. I don’t trust Charlotte, either, but the crime scene was gruesome, and I have to ask: Is a woman capable of such things? Adrian is sketchy. His schedule didn’t waver much. He didn’t do anything out of the ordinary like Waters.
Today, I follow Adrian to a café on the waterfront. I sit and wait.
I should just say fuck it. I should just do what they did—they took away three lives. An eye for an eye.
I run my hand over my face and shake my head, trying to rid myself of the hate, the extreme hate I feel inside for these people I want to kill, the entire lot of them, when I don’t know who actually did it.
God, it’s so confusing now. Jason sees both, he shows me who I am, he chooses me, now this game has become more difficult. I use her strength, become her, take on her persona, in every situation that I want to hide from.
When the police questioned me—her, about who might have killed my family, I—she couldn’t think of a single person. We were a normal family, a happy family. My father enjoyed his job, but he didn’t live it. The same thing went for my mother. I—she felt helpless.
While away at college, Lo made a notebook and wrote down every possibility. My parents weren’t close with their families, but when I looked into it via social media, the posts and tweets made it apparent that no one in our family was anywhere near Detroit on that day. They hadn’t been in years.
The last time Dad’s sister visited, she borrowed money. I overheard him tell Mom he knew she wouldn’t pay him back or be back, and that was fine, because as he said, our family was more than enough for him.
Mom was an only child, and her parents had been traveling out of the country since they retired. My family’s tragedy brought them home long enough to offer . . . Lo the opportunity to travel with them and to attend the funeral. It was very rough on them. They loved us. When they left, they called every week, then every month, now on birthdays and holidays. It’s sad, but they should move on.
