Scarlet Angel (Mindf*ck, #3)

by S.T. Abby

To defeat a monster, you have to be twice as monstrous. To love a monster, you have to share your soul. —Lana Myers

She’s the cat and he’s the mouse. The man who has terrorized Boston for so long, and now DC, is just a toy on her strings. Who the fucking hell is Lana Myers.

“I’m so much worse and better than you. I’m the thing the monsters in the dark fear. And now I’m even the Boogeyman’s nightmare.”

She’s playing him too well. She’s playing a man who has played the world. And she’s winning.

Lana Myers, or whoever she really is, survived something so dark that she needs revenge. But Logan is sleeping with her. He’s falling in love. And she’s a fucking psychopath.

“Then you wanted to kill him. He’s too good to die. He’s everything opposite of us. His light still shines. I hope they have fun with you in hell. You sentenced yourself there the day you targeted the only thing that makes me feel as though there’s still a soul inside me left to be saved. The only thing I love more than revenge.” Just like that, I have my answer. And I watch with her as the Boogeyman dies by his own knife. At the hands of a woman. The hands of a victim. In a way, it’s poetic justice.

“He drove so fast that my asshole is still clenched. I don’t think he tapped the brakes until we got here,” Craig tells him dryly.

If Lana had died at the hands of Plemmons, I would have stalked the world until I found him and put him in the grave. I don’t say that aloud though.

“I love you,” she says, though it’s the confession of a sleeping girl. My core still tightens, and my body feels like electric wires are coursing over the top of my skin.

Being a woman who took down a woman’s nightmare has made me an accidental celebrity. Celebrity status is not fun when you’re a serial killer who needs a low profile.

“There are only two people in my life that I love. One is like a brother. The other is the first person I’ve ever been in love with. So yes, losing Logan terrifies me.”

Eventually, good conquers evil, because evil works alone.

“Even the devil can quote Scripture for his own purpose. William Shakespeare, in case you’re wondering. But I’m not the devil, Anthony. I’m the angel who has come to take you all to hell.”

“You’re so confusing, and I stupidly think you really do love him.” “I do love him,” I tell her on a long sigh. “Nice to know.” Logan’s voice has us both screeching, and Hadley actually drops to the floor. Logan grins at her as she bounces back up to her feet. If he’s grinning, then he missed all the important bits about me being a killing psycho, right?

“You should have told me first,” he says, giving me insight as to why this feels like an incredible punishment fuck. If these are the repercussions of disappointing him, I’ll never be good again. It’d be nice if this is how he punishes me when or if he ever finds out who I really am.

“I love you too, Lana Myers,” he says so softly. And in that moment, I’m completely his. There’s no revenge; there are no deaths staining my hands. I’m just a girl in love with a man who’s destined to hate me when he learns the truth. And it’s devastatingly tragic; more so than any Shakespearian play ever was.

Romantics always believe in revenge, because romantics love harder, suffer loss more painfully, and hold onto a grudge that has shattered their hearts. Their hearts are of the greatest importance, above all else—body, soul, or mind.

My body grew stronger and my mind turned calculated when I lost my soul to avenge my heart. I guess that makes me a romantic.

“I can’t kill them all,” I say with a shrug. “But terrorizing them will remind them to never hold their silence again when the innocent are screaming for help.”

He did what no one else has been able to do in ten years—he made me start healing.

“Where are you going?” she asks as I jerk open the door. “To buy some lube.” “Too much information,” she grumbles as I walk out.

“Voltaire said, ‘Those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities.’

“I’m back, motherfuckers,” I say quietly as we pass the town hall. “And I’m going to make your life hell before I paint your town red.”

“Sheesh! We’re in the middle of Fucking Madhouse Hollow, on the edge of the woods, and you give a girl a heart attack?! Not cool, Bennett. Not fucking cool,” says the redheaded girl who knowingly drove the killer into town.

“I’m seriously considering seeing a shrink about this mindless obsession I have with you,” he mumbles,

The timing of our arrival is perfect. Halloween is just around the corner. There’s a reason I picked Myers as a surname.

“You wore a red dress just to drive me insane, didn’t you?” he asks. Before I can answer, we hear Hadley through the door. “I put your bags in here, you horny fuckers. You’re welcome.”

“I’m real, Lana,” he murmurs against my neck as he finally peels off the last of my clothes. Just the feel of his body sliding against mine as he undressed me has gotten me ready for him. “And I’m yours,” he says before he kisses me, swallowing the words I try to return. Mine. Just like I’m his. For as long as he’ll keep me. “I love you,” I say as he slides inside me, shuddering as though the feel of me was exactly what he needed. I know the feeling. The words mean more to me than he knows, because they’re words I thought I’d never utter in that context. Thought I’d never heal enough to feel that connection. “I love you,” he says,

It’s everything I need and more. He’s everything I wish I could be. A hero. A hero loved by a monster.

“Where would you go?” I ask her, deciding I don’t want to see her sad. “Anywhere in the world?” she asks. “Anywhere.” “I’d go to Greece with you.” And this is why I’m so fucking obsessed with her.

“I’d love you regardless. In case you haven’t noticed, I go a little crazy when it’s been too long since I’ve seen you, and you give me a reason to want to live instead of just exist. You accepted every piece of me, and dealt with the scraps I could offer. And never complained.”

“Those eyes find me when you walk into a room, like I’m the only person you’re looking for. You hold your head up when others would cower. You stand tall when others would fold in on themselves. Your strength is beyond amazing. And you always keep me guessing, which is my favorite part about you, as much as it is infuriating.”

“And you smile for me like you smile for no one else. That makes a man feel powerful. And when I’m with you, I smile like I never have before. It’s a sense of equality, a partnership even. It’s rare to find someone who matches you step for step, and you do. I love that about you. I love you.”