Paint It All Red (Mindf*ck, #5)

by S.T. Abby

Love is not supposed to be beautiful. It’s supposed to be a raw, gritty struggle that forces you to face the most vulnerable parts of yourself, so that when the good times come, you can savor and enjoy them, fully appreciate what they’re worth. Otherwise, you take it all for granted. —Lana Myers Fuck the list. It’s time for the endgame.

We are rarely proud when we are alone. —Voltaire

I can’t be friends with someone who could watch me fall in love with someone like that and not tell me the truth.” Her eyes narrow, and her lips tremble. “Someone like that? Someone who would kill or die to keep you safe? Someone who loved you so much that she almost gave up her revenge?”

“Lana Myers is not Kennedy Carlyle.”

“Lana Myers is Victoria Evans.”

Every smile before me was probably rare. Every smile with me was given freely with genuineness. Every touch was hungry and full of emotion she struggles to show. She trusted me.

I walked out when she simply cried. The cold-hearted killer who tortured and slaughtered the monsters from her past… I made her cry. She never even got angry.

“I knew you were coming,” he drawls, leaning up. “So put your gun away. If I was a threat, you’d already be dead. Fortunately for you, I happen to enjoy breathing, and I’m not sure Lana would be okay with me retaining oxygen if I laid a hand on you.”

Where is Victoria?” His eyes widen marginally. “Oh, so you’ve figured out the truth now instead of slamming her with accusations and silencing her. Little late, don’t you think?”

“Her name is Lana. Victoria Evans was killed by this town. She can’t be Victoria Evans. She had to reinvent herself just to find the will to go on. You called her sick, but you have no idea what you’re up against. You have no fucking idea what she survived.”

His words grow angrier with each new sentence, and he slowly stands.

“Looks like your legs work just fine,” I quip, eyeing the man who has played the world. He taps his legs. “They work better than your mind.”

“She wanted it to have the maximum impact on you. To hell with all the others. She may still want revenge, but everything else has been centered around you. She practically prayed the Boogeyman would come after her, just so she could kill him and end the threat he posed to your life. And you treat her like a monster. Why? Because she kills? Do you treat your military like monsters? Do you stare at your own reflection with such disdain? Because I’ve seen your file. You’ve shot and killed thirteen serial killers since your career began. Those were real monsters, just like all the men Lana has dispatched.”

“But she’s supposed to what? Just move on and forget it happened?” he goes on. “Because the law says it’s wrong to exact revenge on monsters unless you have a badge or a government decree?” He takes a step toward me, holding his finger in my direction. “This is a girl who spent years training, learning control to keep her mind sound. Something our military or law enforcement doesn’t even require. These men? They destroyed her entire family. They destroyed her. Two fucking kids!” His voice breaks,

“Lana… I never thought she’d love anyone the way I loved Marcus. I thought they’d broken her. I thought they’d stolen every last shred of her heart. The only thing keeping her alive was the fire inside her that burned with pure, unadulterated hatred.”

“She loved you. She had two visions of how this would all go. One ended with you loving her as much as she loves you, and you’d stand by her no matter what, feel her pain as if it was your own. Unfortunately, you chose option number two, proving me right, even though I desperately wanted you to prove me wrong.”

“Real love? The kind Lana gave you? It’s the kind of love that looks beyond one’s offenses against others and only calls to the soul. Lana saved a child. Lana risked everything to save you. Lana saved countless women by killing Plemmons. Yet you still view her as a monster by not meeting your generalized populous version of morality. In your eyes, it’s better to forever be the victim than to ever feel peace again, because a real monster might die at the hands of someone who won’t show mercy.”

“If Lana wants to be found, she’ll let you find her. Knowing her identity won’t stop her. In his life as a selfless, loving, incredible person, Marcus only ever made one selfish request. I’ll go to the grave before I deny him that request, and so will Lana. Revenge, that’s all he wanted from her. And revenge he’ll have.”

My jaw tics as I stare him down. “Where. Is. She?” “That’s no longer your concern,” he says dismissively. “I only came here to make sure her words were spoken, since you did the worst thing you could possibly do. You silenced her. You refused to listen. Now I have to pray I’m enough of a reason for her to want to live.”

My mind feels like it’s gone through a mind-fuck blender.

I fall apart, tossing everything in the cabin as my heart gets yanked out of my chest, and I lash out for the first time in over fifteen years.

By that sin, fell the angels. —William Shakespeare

ME: I know. Look after yourself. Don’t worry about me. ME: And thank you for accepting me and understanding.

“I need something to stab, and he needs to be stabbed. Seems like we could help each other out,” I tell him dryly.

He grabs a bat from the corner, and he slams it into the window, busting it out. Then he takes the bat to the rest of the room, smashing anything he can break as he loses all control. I slowly back against the wall, and my body slides down it until my ass touches the floor. And I watch. I watch the man who never loses control have a meltdown.

“He loves you,” Jake says, clutching my shoulder, no longer sitting as he crouches beside me.

“He doesn’t love me like I love him,” I say hoarsely. “I love him enough to burn the world to the ground in his name.”

“He’s so pure. So good. So honest and genuine. So gentle and kind. It’s all those qualities that made me fall in love, because he was everything—everything!—I’d always wanted in someone. And he loved me. Yet, I wanted to taint the very things about him that made me fall in love, just so I could selfishly take him to the dark with me and keep him. It was wrong.”

He wanted happiness for Jake. He wanted wrath from me.

He knew I was a monster before I did.

“Sometimes, I wonder what my brother must have thought of me to know I’d be able to do all of this,” I say softly.

Jake’s arms tighten around me. “He thought you were the strongest person he ever knew, and he raved about your fire all the time, Victoria,” he tells me.

“You are not sick. Marcus was right—you’re the strongest fucking person I know. You’re not sick, Lana. You’re a fucking dark angel that can set the world free from this sick town.”

Doesn’t matter what I am. Doesn’t matter who I am. All that matters is that I finish my mission. Avenge my family. And burn this town to the ground. I don’t need to feel love in order to be a monster. I just need to remember.

“I’m stronger. Faster. Smarter. And far more lethal than anyone in this town. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead. Kyle had the sheriff’s love and his protection. Yet I flayed him and hung him from the tower for the entire town to witness his demise. Don’t piss me off, Dev. I’m not the girl you turned your back on ten years ago. This girl will carve out your spine if I find your back to me again.”

To be wronged is nothing unless you continue to remember it. —Confucius

“And obsessed proxies are unstable and unable to love without fixation,” Hadley points out grimly. “But she’s not an obsessed proxy. She’s a scarred girl with more shit in her life than any one person should ever have to endure. And you just took your turn shitting on her. Great job, Bennett. Great fucking job.”

“She didn’t want me to see the vulnerable little girl I was because she was afraid it would break me. Lana has lived through more pain than most people can endure. The physical pain alone from the numerous surgeries she needed to rebuild her facial structure was bad enough. Imagine the psychological toll that took on her. She lost her family. She lost her home. She gave up her identity so that it couldn’t be taken away. She’s stronger than you’re giving her credit for, and yeah, maybe I’m a sick motherfucker, but I’m on her side.”

“You were everything to her,” Hadley says quietly. “I’ve never been loved like that.

She rolls her eyes when I don’t crack a smile. “You need to pick a side soon, Logan. You can’t hang out in limbo. I chose mine, and it’s her.”

“So you’ve been falsifying all your forensic reports on—” “Haven’t had to. Lana is too good to leave behind trace evidence.” She sighs as she stands. “But I would have. Yes. As far as risks go, you’re the only one she’s ever taken. You’re the one string to unravel all she has worked for since the night they shattered her and her brother. Are you going to take that away?”

“I hope you never catch this one. I hope this one ends every shred of evil this town has left in it. I believe in avenging angels, Agents. And I think this killer has been granted a dark gift to rid this world of the corruption this town offers. I thought there was a soul left to save, but now I don’t think there is. I think the angels’ wrath is here.”

“Where are you going?” Leonard asks. He turns to face us. “If you’re not arresting me, I’m going to go pick up my baby sister and take her far, far away from this place.” I cock my head. “Why?” He heads to the door and doesn’t turn around until it opens. “Because this place is going to burn. I can promise you that.”

Henry Thomas trips, falling to the ground on his knees, staring up at me with wide, horrified eyes. How fitting. “While you’re down there, you can say your last words,” I tell him, holding up the knife. “And maybe confess your sins while you’re at it.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I ask as the music plays on and Murdock struggles against his bindings. “I’m the girl whose life you destroyed. I just have a different face, considering the lynch mob you and Sheriff Cannon sent after us crushed the old one.”

“No,” he says on a rasp whisper. “You’re dead—” “So I’ve heard. Over and over. Funny thing about death—someone has to do a damn good job at killing a girl like me. So far, everyone has sucked at that task.”

They know if I could kill a monster like Kyle so savagely and live to tell about it, then I’m the real thing of nightmares. Love it.

That familiar coldness washes over me, and I slowly stand, moving toward Murdock who is positively quaking in fear now that he knows I’m a fucking crazy bitch with a knife. I’m sure the fact I’m the one who peeled all the flesh from Kyle’s body is wreaking havoc on his nerves right now.

Then I pull out the paintbrush I brought, and I dip it into the blood. Instead of painting a wall this time, I leave a message. A message for the man who broke my heart. A message for the man I never should have loved.

Hadley groans while dropping her head to Jake’s chest, and he grips her hips, rolling her under him.

WHAT 😳😳😳😳