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  “I’m Lindsey and this is Lainey,” they introduced with flashlights and shaking voices.

  “Nice to meet you, officially.” He let the words drop from his lips, like he always did. I didn't know him well enough to think that, but I did.

  “How did you know we were here?” Linds asked, clearly skeptical.

  “I followed you. I have been tracking Sierra’s phone.” His words were so bold and plain, and yet I could tell they meant nothing to him. He stood and turned for the stairwell. “Let’s get the hell out of here. You shouldn’t have come. This place is disgusting.” He climbed the stairs. When we got to the top of them and back into the main area, he put me down, checking me over, once we were in the dim light of the windows. “You okay?”

  I nodded. I wasn't and I wanted to say that, but I didn't want him to think I was a complete sissy.

  “Who grabbed you?” He scowled and glanced back down the stairs.

  “I don't know. It was a guy, that's all I know.”

  “He wasn't much taller than her but he was way wider. He was dressed all in black, even had a black mask covering his face.” Lainey made several attempts at meeting my gaze, trying to assess my response to the guy still holding my arms.

  “Whoever he was, he knows the dark-haired girl. He called me—the same thing she always did.” I couldn't say it in front of him. I didn't want him to know.

  “That room was weird. Did you see there were no doors? Where did he go?”

  “I don't know.” I shook my head, my eyes locking on Lainey’s. “He was just there and then he vanished.” I shivered and Finn wrapped his arm around me.

  “Let’s get out of here. This place is creepy.” He walked to the front door, glancing back at Lain and Linds. “I’ll drive Sierra back home.” He didn't ask me if I wanted the ride, but I wouldn't have said no.

  “We can all drive together.” Linds lifted her phone and dialed. “Hey, we need you to come and get Lain’s car in Massachusetts. Now,” she spoke as she walked over to Lain’s small car. She got off the phone quickly and smiled, nodding. “Okay. My driver will come with yours and they will take the car back home.”

  “You guys do everything the hard way.” Finn cocked a dark eyebrow over his black-framed glasses. “Why don't two of you ride with me and one drive the car back alone, if you don't trust me?”

  Lain’s cheeks flushed. “I think Linds is just worried we might all be shook up.” Her lying was terrible. It wasn't Lindsey bad, but it wasn’t good.

  “You two go in your car and follow us. We’re going home, trust me.” I slid my hand into my pocket and pulled out my bear spray. “I will mace him if he so much as blinks too many times.”

  Lainey looked like she might try to offer up a fact about the bear spray, but Lindsey nodded and dragged her to the car before she could. “Deal.” She gave Finn her spicy death stare. If Lindsey was the master of anything it was a promising glare. And there was no doubt she would follow through.

  He walked me to the door to his lifted black Jeep. It wasn't at all the type of car I imagined he would drive. I hadn’t even imagined him driving. He was like a grown Harry Potter but much taller. He looked too nerdy to even have a car, let alone a Jeep.

  But he did.

  I climbed in and buckled myself in. My fingers shook and my hands slipped from the sweat coating my palms, but I buckled in and texted Linds.

  I’m okay, I swear. He works for my dad.

  She waved once as she buckled in and Lainey started the car.

  Finn climbed in his side and gave me a once over. He should have checked out my boobs or my tight pants or anything about me. But he didn’t. He checked to be sure I was buckled in right.

  He had no attraction to me whatsoever.

  And that bothered me more than some psycho hitting me on the head and dragging me into a dark room.

  I hadn’t noticed the pain in my head until that moment. Thinking about it made it throb. I flipped down the visor and winced at the bloody stain clashing with my red hair.

  “Oh shit, you’re hurt.” He leaned over, turning my face. His lips were so close to mine I could have kissed him without any real effort. But his eyes focused on the wound and his lips twisted into a grim sneer. “I’m going to kill whoever did this to you.”

  I believed everything he said, even that.

  He stroked my head, but not sexy-like. It was as if he were petting a dog or a cat. “Are you okay?” he asked like he was my doctor and I died a little inside.

  “I’m fine.” I pulled back and sat in the chair. “Why did my father pay you to track my movements through my phone?” I didn't need to know the answer. I was living the answer, but I didn't want to stew on the reality I had started to crush on him, and he was oblivious to my being anything other than a client.

  “He didn't.”

  I turned my head sharply, swaying from the instant onset of dizziness. “What?”

  “He didn't. I bugged your phone for him and then hacked his system.”

  My cheeks instantly burned. “My father doesn’t know I’m here?”

  “I doubt it. He hasn’t been checking it very often. He thinks you’re home, for sure. He won’t even know you’re gone if we get you home fast enough.” He cracked that weird smile, the serial killer one that was more for himself and less for me. He started the Jeep and drove out of the parking lot, leaving the scary place behind us.

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  “No. He doesn't need to know you were there. But I am going to tell him his security on the institution is compromised. There should have been four guards.” He shook his head. “This is the strangest thing I have ever seen. It’s like a government conspiracy.” His dark-blue eyes darted my way through the sides of his thick frames. “What did you do to make this happen?”

  “I don't know.” It was the truth of course. “We don't know why it’s happening. That's why we were there. We’re trying to solve it.”

  “You’re doing a bang-up job.” He scoffed and I knew he wasn't laughing with me.

  “We aren’t exactly trained professionals. We’re high school students.” I said it and realized I would have to go back to school on Monday.

  “Which is why you need to turn this over to the police and let them do their jobs.”

  “We can’t.” I said it before I had really thought about it. Whatever it was about him that had made me divulge it was a mystery, but I trusted him. “The killer has something on us.”

  His weird smile vanished as I relayed the entire story to him, not missing a single detail. It was the stupidest thing I had ever done; I just didn't know it at the time.

  Chapter Twelve

  Let Me In

  Finn parked on the road just before my driveway and jumped out. He didn't get my door. He just waited for me on the side of the road. I scowled and opened it myself, not really sure how to feel about his lack of gentlemanly manners for such a gentlemanly guy. He wasn't a slut or a manwhore. He wasn't a pervert or a jock or a spoiled rich boy with nothing better to do. He wasn't any of my normal types. He was oblivious to the expected gentlemanly manners.

  We walked through the woods, constantly checking on our surroundings, to the exact spot along the beach where I had climbed over the wall to escape the yard. He wandered toward the sea instead of my house, but my stomach clenched at the idea of being away from the safety of home. After being in the mental institute again I didn't want the cold ocean. I wanted my warm bed. And him. I wanted him to stay and be near me and watch over me.

  “Do you want to come in?” I nodded my head toward the fence and pool house as my phone vibrated with a text from Lainey.

  You okay?

  I sighed and answered back.

  I’m fine. Seriously, fine. I want to know what’s in that notebook Linds found. No more keeping shit from me!

  Stop cussing. We’ll come to you tonight. The whole crew. Linds said to tell Hilde to have snacks. We need a power meeting. We can tell the guys i
t’s going to be fun.

  Lainey was such a tight ass, despite Jake trying to mellow her out.

  I lifted my gaze to the male version of Lainey standing and looking at me and knew exactly what I had to do. “I said, do you want to come in?”

  “Oh, I thought you were talking to your friends on the phone. I’m good. I don't need to see you all the way to the door. I trust you’ll be safe in there.” He folded his arms.

  “No, I want you to come in and hang out. My friends are all coming over later, and I was thinking you could be there too. We’re going to brainstorm. I mean, the guys are going to hang out and play pool but the girls are going to brainstorm.”

  “About the killer?” His eyes widened.

  “Yeah.” I couldn't believe how hard he was to lure.

  “Okay. But I’d prefer—”

  “My dad won’t know. Trust me. He avoids teenagers and awkward talks. I haven’t even seen him in the last week. We can sneak in and then head for the games room after I get showered and cleaned up. I’ll tell him I’m having friends over. You’ll blend.”

  He responded as if I were trying to get him to try drugs for the first time. “Okay.” He hesitated one more moment, appearing conflicted and adorable. His thick glasses and gray hoodie were the least attractive things ever, and yet, in some screwed-up post-mental breakdown way, my brain thought this was the most perfect being in the world.

  “Okay.” I waited one more second before I turned and walked to my yard, slipping through the gate.

  “What if your dad sees us?”

  “So? We’ll say we became friends at the insane asylum and you’re here to chill. We’re sneaking back into the yard. This is home free. What’s he going to do, grill us for being on the grass?” I laughed, trying to calm him down.

  “Your blood-matted hair might give us away.”

  I lifted a hand to it, realizing I’d forgotten about the light throb again. “I better get a quick shower.”

  “Maybe you can let me look at it first, to make sure it’s not deep.”

  “Yeah.” I smiled, trying my best not to throw myself at him or flirt too hard. He was shy or something. Maybe playing hard to get. I didn't know. But it drove me insane.

  He made my wounded head and serial killer issues seem like nothing.

  Maybe it was the way his face had popped into the doorway of the black room. The way his hand had reached for me, lifting me up and saving me. The way he was always just there right when I needed him.

  My mind whispered that maybe I just liked hurting so much that I was losing myself to a guy who would never want me. That sounded about right. Masochistic as usual.

  With my luck he was the killer. Like I said, he was always there at the right time.

  I hurried through the side of the house and went up the servants’ staircase, stopping at the kitchen to grin at our Swedish chef. “Hilde, my friends are coming over in like an hour or so. Can you please make us some snacks?”

  Hilde gave me a look like she might stab me, but I knew it was love. She nodded once, which was akin to being kissed by her, and went back to whatever she was doing. Hilde was the best. She didn’t talk a lot. She didn't like anyone. She didn't ask for anything. She cooked. She baked. She cleaned. She slept. Her form of love came on a plate smothered in affection. My favorite kind of love. It was better than anything you could buy.

  But I never lingered or annoyed her. I learned that early on. Hilde did her thing and when she was ready, you ate. If you annoyed her, you never ate. Or she made things you hated like cabbage rolls.

  I turned back to the stairs, noting how close Finn was standing next to me. I brushed my chest against his purposefully, but he didn’t crack a grin. His eyes never lowered from mine. And he didn't give off the slightest impression that he wanted to make out. He stared at the cook and the kitchen.

  It was insulting and yet challenging. What did I need to do to make him want to kiss me? And why the hell did I care so much about him wanting to kiss me to ignore the fact I’d nearly been kidnapped again?

  I was losing my mind.

  Once more I contemplated his being gay, but my gaydar wasn't giving me anything. And usually I was pretty good at picking out the boys who weren’t going to be interested in me. There was no way he just wanted to be my new bestie.

  He looked at the stairs, like he was impatiently waiting for me to continue up. I didn't try to hide my annoyance as I sighed and walked up to my room. I got to the left wing of the house, which my dad had built into two massive master suites—one for them and one for me.

  “Holy shit, this is your room?” His jaw dropped as he did a slow turn. “I thought the kitchen with the cook was nuts but this is like the penthouse at the Four Seasons.”

  “Pshhh, I wish. Have you been in the penthouse?” I laughed and sauntered to the bathroom, suddenly more confident in my own space.

  “No, actually I haven’t.” He moved around the room, taking a quick look at everything but focusing on nothing. “I’ve seen pictures.”

  “Oh shit. I didn't mean for that to sound so snobby.” Which was a lie. I was a snob but I didn't want him to think it.

  “Don't be sorry. We didn't all grow up rich.” He walked into the bathroom and flicked on all the lights, stepping in close. I wanted to close my eyes and tilt my face and let him kiss me, but he put a hand on my forehead and lowered my head so he could see the wound on the top better. “It’s a small cut. The head always bleeds more than it needs to.”

  “How did you become what you are?”

  That question stopped him. I saw the confusion of the surprise attack on his face. “I only got to use the computers at school for one hour a week, when we had lab time, so they were sort of a forbidden fruit for me. Something I loved but wasn't allowed to have. And you know what it’s like when you want something and you can’t have it.” His eyes lowered onto my mouth for the first time, and I realized what I was to him. I wasn't unattractive. I wasn't undesirable. I was unattainable. In his mind he wasn't allowed to see me as anything but a client.

  My mind screamed that this was the moment I’d been waiting for, but he pulled back, clearing his throat and shaking his head. “You should shower. I’ll go find somewhere else to be.” He almost bowed as he walked out and the unattainable idea deflated and flew around the room making farting sounds. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed as I started the shower.

  “Hello?” Jake sounded weird.

  “Hey, can I ask you a question?” I whispered softly.

  “Maybe.” He sounded scared.

  “How the hell did you flirt with Lain?” I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered if it was the gaunt appearance that was killing him. My body hadn’t bounced back yet, not because I wasn't trying—I was. But it was taking a while to gain weight. I was a stick with boobs, which most guys liked. I didn't understand what the problem was.

  “I didn't.” He sounded normal again. “I sort of just met her on her level and talked to her like a friend. I honestly didn't know what the hell else to do. She doesn't flirt or party or try to get anyone’s attention. She doesn't giggle and play with her hair and give you signals. She doesn't have signs. She—”

  “She’s a robot. I know. I am experiencing this problem myself.”

  “Finn?” He chuckled.

  “Jesus, did they tell everyone?” My cheeks flushed in the large mirror.

  “No. Lain told me. I’m sure Linds told Vince but I doubt Sage and Rita know.”

  “Is Rita back?”

  “Yeah. She came home with Sage. They’re acting like two peas in a pod about something. Whispering and being weird. Cagey was the word Lain used.”

  “Great.” I sighed.

  “Are you okay?” he asked sounding weird again.

  “I guess. Yeah. I don't feel crazy if that's what you mean.”

  “I didn't mean crazy. I just meant like is the whole thing still screwing with you?” He didn't tread carefully when he asked. He under
stood completely what it was like to be me.

  “I don't know. To be completely honest, I don't know.” My insides tightened. “Are you okay?”

  “No.” He laughed. “I don't think this is ever going to go away.” He chuckled a bit harder for a moment before sighing. “We’re going to catch them, Sierra. Whoever is doing this, we’re going to catch them and we’re going to kill them. We aren’t going to let the police have them.” Jake was the funny guy. The one who joked and laughed and flirted. He was jovial, before. There was nothing left of that guy on the phone. “We aren’t going to show them mercy because they never showed us any.”

  “I’ll see ya in like an hour.” I lowered my head, fighting the feeling of my body and emotions becoming nothing.

  “Sounds good. Tell Hilde I want those nachos. I know she says it’s an insult to her skills to make them, but I really want them.”

  “Okay.”

  “See ya.” He hung up and I stared at myself in the mirror, searching for even a scrap of the person I was before this. He was right. It was never going away. He was different from his time spent as her plaything. He was angry and he wanted his revenge. But I didn't suffer from the false bravado he did. I was a fan of talk, a huge fan. I was all talk. But deep down I was scared I might not be able to kill her, the dark-haired girl. I might not be able to hurt someone the way she had hurt me or Jake or Rachel.

  She had damaged me, but she hadn’t made me stronger or more vengeful.

  The shower proved it.

  I didn’t sing or smile as the water poured down on me. I did it exactly the way I had since my first shower at Silver Hills. I showered with one eye open, constantly watching the door. I didn't stay in longer than I needed to. I didn't shave anything. I washed my body and hair, warmed up, and got out. I had a new routine that answered the question of whether I was okay or not.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hellraiser

  “He’s cute.” Sage gave me an appraising nod as her eyes roamed the dorky guy in glasses like she surveyed a property or a horse. “The hipster glasses are a bit much.” She grinned. “Not really your type.”

 

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