Filed to story: The Mindf*ck Series Read Online Free
“Hadley,” I say again, feeling the binds of betrayal squeezing tighter and tighter, almost as though it’s becoming a tangible noose around my neck.
“Yeah,” he whispers, so much pity in his voice. “Obviously she believes in whatever Lana has told her about this crusade. After what Hadley went through, it’s not surprising. I understand it too, but…I don’t understand how she can be a proxy but not be suffering any signs of psychotic breaks. I feel like I’m missing something.”
My chest gets heavier and heavier as the truth slowly creeps into my every bone, robbing me of my ability to use any of my motor functions.
“She does love you,” he says quietly from the back seat. “I’ve seen it, Logan. She risked it all to-“
“Stop talking,” I say on a rasp, unable to say more when my throat knots up.
Cars pass us as we idle in the middle of the street, and I continue to stare aimlessly.
Every morning I woke up and spent the day worried about her safety, dreading every second away. And every night she laid down with her secrets, possibly laughing at me.
“You’re a profiler,” Leonard says, ignoring my demand for silence. “You know what she feels isn’t imitation. Don’t do anything stupid, Logan. You may be the only thing grounding her to reality, and if you love her… Just remember the story about Katie.”
I snort derisively as my heart kicks my chest.
“Stop. Talking.”
Instead of driving to the M.E., I turn around and drive back to the cabins.
“Don’t tell anyone else yet. I want a confession,” I say with a deadly calm tone.
“I said don’t do anything stupid, Logan.”
My hands grip the wheel tighter, betrayal continuing its course through my bitter veins.
I’ve loved a killer who I knew nothing about. I’ve loved a girl who was obsessed with a dead family to the extent of killing, or manipulated by a man who preyed on her psychosis.
One way or another, I’m finding out tonight.
Chapter 16
Tears are the silent language of grief.
-Voltaire
LANA I’m just stepping out of the bathroom, adjusting my towel, when Logan steps through the bedroom door, scaring the shit out of me.
“You gave me a heart attack,” I groan, gripping my chest. But then my lips turn up in a smile, despite his very serious expression.
“Come back for the circus outside?” I ask, adjusting the towel.
“Everyone is gone. There was a new message in fire this time. I’m sure everyone all over town has said something to someone else. Things get around fast in a small town.”
“Small towns everywhere have that nasty little habit,” I chirp, swallowing anything else I might want to say on the matter.
He continues staring at me, his serious expression growing foreboding.
“Are you okay?” I ask, getting worried.
“Yeah,” he says, stalking toward me.
I don’t have the chance to ask more, because he’s suddenly on me, his lips crushing mine in a painful kiss. There’s no finesse or tenderness the way there usually is.
It’s hard, demanding, almost punishing, but I kiss him back, clinging to him. I’m not sure how he already got some free time, but I’m all for it.
“I love you,” I say against his lips, which earns me an even harder, just shy of painful kiss as he lifts me and drops me to the bed, coming down on top of me.
He doesn’t return the words, possibly because he’s too busy tearing his clothes off, frantic to have me. When his lips find mine again, it’s no gentler.
He shoves my legs apart with the same rough vigor, and then he thrusts in. I cry out in surprise, thankful that I happen to get wet easily around him. That could have hurt otherwise.
And he thrusts in harder, and harder, and harder… It just goes on and on, his hips thrashing angrily to no rhythm.
“I love you,” I say against his ear when he breaks the kiss and drops his head beside mine.
Again he doesn’t return the sentiment, and he continues to fuck me wildly, violently, furiously. As good as it feels, a hollowness forms in my chest, a dull ache growing and expanding over me.
I cling to him harder as a tear falls, realization slowly sinking in. He grips my hips, arching me up, taking me like I’m his to own…his to break.
Another tear. And another. Not from any physical pain, because there’s only intense pleasure. It’s because you don’t have angry sex unless you’re angry, and Logan is furious.
And he’s using me.
One last time.
Punishing me.
Because he knows.
But he still doesn’t know the whole truth.
Tears slip free faster, and I take it. I wish it didn’t feel so incredible, but the flesh enjoys it even as the heart shatters beneath it.
I cry out, unable to help myself when an orgasm tears through me. Even as I cry from emotional anguish, the physical pleasure still forces my body to shudder with desire.
As he stills inside me, my heart pounds, shattering more and more with each passing beat. I knew it would hurt.
I knew it would devastate me.
I had no idea it would strangle me with a heavier hand with each passing second.
“You know,” I whisper softly, the broken sound of my voice nearly scratching my own ears.
He pulls off me as abruptly as this all began, and my hands are jerked above my head. I don’t even fight as I stare at him, watching him refuse to look at me as my hands get bound to the wrought iron headboard with his handcuffs.
My tears fall without mercy, embarrassing me, humiliating me, robbing me of any dignity I might find in this moment.
And he leaves me naked as he stands and pulls on his clothes, not saying a word until he’s fully dressed.
He still doesn’t look at me.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he says bitterly. “Then again, I also should have known I was sleeping with a killer for the past several months.”
Finally, he levels me with cold blue eyes that lack a single ounce of warmth.
There’s pain, and then there’s agony.
It’s been a long time since I felt the agony I unleash on my victims.
But I feel it now.
It’s bone-deep, gut-wrenching, and powerful enough to pulverize you from the inside. Naked and cuffed to a bed as I cry the painfully hot tears, I try to ignore the agony that continues to rip through me with a relentless force.
But it’s useless.
I’m still too raw from the wounds I opened up last night.
I’m too in love to pretend I don’t care.
And the heartache is too real not to feel it through every cell of my very existence.
I no longer wish to be a romantic. Because it hurts too fucking much.
“Logan, I-“
“You’ll shut the hell up right now, Lana,” he snaps, his eyes glistening with his own unshed tears. “I loved you. I cared about you. And you? All you fucking did was lie! You used me!”