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I can scream, I can rage, but I can no longer run from this. Whatever this is.
“Your name. You’ve been living a whole pack of lies, and let me tell you, it doesn’t exactly sit well with me. We got an anonymous call about your real name today and heard you might be planning to beat it out of town, so I had to make a move fast.”
Mel is worse than a monster. He’s a smart monster.
That was one thing Mel wasn’t guilty of: being bad at what he chose to do.
That’s his gift, Detective. He’s really so very good at playing human that even I couldn’t see the difference.”
You think I’d ever want to do anything for Melvin Royal again? I hate him. I despise him. If he ever shows up in the flesh, I’ll put an entire fucking clip of bullets in his head until there’s nothing left to recognize.”
Looking back on it now, I think they were afraid of him. I never realized that before they died.”
But he has help, I think. Help willing to do exactly what Mel asks.
Mel isn’t haunted by his victims. He always slept soundly and woke rested. I’m the one who has nightmares.
I have two children in the house, and I’m responsible for their lives—lives that are never safe, never secure. I will do anything I must to defend them. And I’m not giving up my weapons.
In the morning, there’s another girl floating dead in the lake.
One dead, horribly mutilated woman could have been an awful coincidence. Two have to be a plan.
This time the questions will come in earnest. I’m going to be arrested. I’m going to lose my kids.
My chess move didn’t work with my murdering ex-husband. He’s dropped the hammer, and right now I imagine him lying on his bunk, laughing.
For the first time, I wonder if me continuing to be part of their lives is actively, constantly damaging them,
Stop. You’re thinking like HE wants you to think. Like a helpless victim. Don’t let him take away what you’ve achieved. Fight for it.
If it all ends the same way, why put all the time and energy into trying to build a new, safe life?
he tells me I’m under arrest for suspicion of murder. I can’t say I’m surprised. I can’t say I’m even angry.
My children are exposed, fragile, and it’s my fault.
Something slips across my mind, something important, but I’m too tired to make sense of it.
Why the hell is Sam Cade here in handcuffs? And where the hell are my kids?
Came home to find out his beloved sister was dead.”
Gwen Proctor wasn’t a new person. She was just Gina Royal 2.0, ready to fall for anything sold to her by a man with a nice face and an easy smile.
wouldn’t that just be perfect. Gina Royal falls for a serial killer, twice. Can’t say I don’t have a type.
things—I know this instinctively—are about to get a whole lot worse for all of us.
Funny. I always thought I’d die before I got old.
I hate her even more now that I realize I’m still, even after all this, very much like her.
I don’t tell them his sister was the last one. Somehow that makes it even worse.
In the rush of events, in my worry about what Mel was doing and the murder, I’d forgotten. I’d let my son down.
Less than a day out from being hauled in and we’re already in fear of our lives.
Depending on anything or anyone else is bad. I have to rely on myself, first, last, and always. That’s the lesson Mel taught me.
First, I have to get us to safety. Second, regroup. Third, get my kids away from this place, however that has to happen.
“You’re not arresting me.” “You didn’t even make that a question.”
“Any decent defense attorney would make dog food out of you. A mother with her kids, attacked by six drunk jerks? Really? I’ll be the trending hero on Twitter in half an hour.”
My nearest neighbors, the Johansens, helped block my driveway. Sam Cade lied to me from the beginning. Javier’s a reserve deputy and probably won’t return my calls, either.
Maybe I can’t trust anyone anymore. My judgment’s been so off.
None of us has anything to say. None of us needs to.
Vandalism was a constant fact of life before we’d moved for the second time.
And I’d known then, like now, that I couldn’t rely on the neighbors for help. Or the police.
if you want to start learning to shoot, we’ll do that. And if you don’t, that’s good, too. I’d rather you didn’t, believe me, because your chances of getting shot are a hell of a lot better if you’re armed. I do this as much to draw fire away from you as I do to return it.
I miss someone who never existed in the first place, the same way my Mel never existed.
The real Sam Cade is a stalker and a liar, at the very least.
There’s something unyielding in her, something that bends but doesn’t break, and I recognize it. I feel it in myself, too.
“I know what it’s like to be judged for something you never got to control.”
offense isn’t defense.
you know Javier. He’s the other reason I’m here. He likes you. Not willing to believe you’re all the way innocent just yet, but he’s willing to help keep the wolves off you if you’ll agree.”
I think about how things might have been different if only I’d loaded up the van and departed that first time I had the impulse, headed hellbound and out of town instead of ling...
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“You’d better take what you get. Allies are going to be thin on the ground for you right now.”
trying to avoid paying for help would be cutting my own throat right now.
(because it has to be Mel) has thrown around me. Can’t start a new life with it if I’m behind bars. Can’t save my family if my kids are taken from me and sent to foster care.
