by Mary Stone
No matter how I got there, I would make my way to the ultimate ending.
The ending always made me smile.
7
Winter Black grimaced and sat up straight in her office chair. The intense fire burning through her back made her start to question the accuracy of her own age.
Maybe my birth certificate isn’t real. Would that really be so shocking after everything I’ve been through?
The day had been long and the paperwork relentless, but Winter preferred to get all her notes copied over from the Florida case while the events were still fresh.
Fresh and disturbing.
Memory was a fickle bitch, especially when you considered the fact that the human brain was capable of purposely blocking out unsettling experiences altogether.
Repressed memories—clinically assigned as dissociative amnesia—enabled an individual to forget all recall of certain traumatic events. Most commonly, the stored away memories were connected to childhood abuse of some sort.
But not exclusively.
Any person at any age could repress a troubling occurrence. And while the memory was still capable of affecting behavior and emotions through a silent subconscious influence, the individual might have no recollection whatsoever of the damaging experience and its continuous impact on their day-to-day life.
Winter had a plethora of incidents piled up from her childhood that she wished her brain would store away in some dark, untouched closet of her mind. All too often, memories would assail her at very inopportune times.
Revisiting her youth at all was something she generally steered away from. But Winter, like every other mortal on the planet, wasn’t always in control of what random recollection her mind decided to throw at her on any given day.
And the profession she’d chosen as her life’s purpose had created its own ever-growing stack of disturbing happenings.
The Florida case, with all its madness and baby snatching, was definitely a story that could fade away from her psyche with her absolute blessing. But not until every damn detail was recorded in full.
If a single one of the assholes involved in the Florida case got off on some ridiculous technicality, she’d never forgive herself.
The murderer’s smug face flashed through her mind.
Death instead of a lifetime wearing prison orange meant that egotistical bastard got off way too easy.
She yawned.
Dammit.
As committed as she was to putting every single member of the baby-making cult in prison for as long as possible, she needed to get home and get some sleep. Good sleep in her own bed, with Noah breathing steadily beside her. The image held heavenly appeal.
Motivated to leave, Winter made a half-hearted attempt to organize her desk.
Organized-ish. Good enough.
Another long day would be ready and waiting in the morning. Time to get out of here.
She walked toward the breakroom to grab a water from the vending machine and spotted Sun Ming working late as well. Sun appeared startled. Winter figured the agent hadn’t expected anyone else to have lasted this late into the evening.
“Guess we’re burning the midnight oil together, huh?” Winter tried to be nice to Sun most of the time. Or at least relatively civil. But Sun frequently made that a very hard task to follow through with.
Sun gave a single nod, and Winter took the eloquent response as the most communication she would get from the prickly agent. She didn’t give a crap, though, about endearing herself to the woman.
But Winter did give a crap about Noah, who she assumed was also running on fumes by now. “You have any idea what case Noah got called away on? I was so busy, I barely registered he left.”
Sun twirled her chair toward Winter, a catty little smile on her face. “I guess I figured Noah would have told you that much himself.”
Winter clenched her hands into fists. Throttling Sun would be an amazing stress reliever.
Just walk away. Walk away. Go home. Sleep.
Turning on her heel, she stopped when Sun chuckled. “Maybe you should ask Autumn where Noah is.”
Winter froze. Sun just couldn’t resist stirring the pot. Perhaps the time had come for her and Agent Ming to get a few things straight.
“I’m right here.” It was Noah’s voice…the most welcome sound in the world.
She turned toward him, relieved. His tie was askew, and his hair was sticking out haphazardly. But just the sight of him righted her universe.
Winter still struggled to believe she’d made her way into a healthy, adult relationship. Noah was so stable and made her incredibly happy. They were solid in a way she’d never expected.
But her life had played out like a disaster movie before Noah ever arrived on the scene, and forgetting her past was hard. And she didn’t always know how to communicate her feelings.
The Preacher—Douglas Kilroy—murdered her parents and kidnapped her brother when she was only thirteen. He attempted to kill her as well, but instead, she’d been left with a traumatic brain injury requiring immediate major surgical intervention.
Her grandparents took her in after the murders, and she’d been blessed with a wonderful life under their care.
But Winter’s psyche was altered following the brain surgery. She occasionally experienced brutal headaches, accompanied by a tell-tale nosebleed that caused certain objects and areas around her to glow red. Often, the aura led her to clues, hints, answers that she never could have known without her “supernatural power.”
In most cases, the nosebleeds also indicated that she was about to blackout entirely. But the blackouts gave her insightful and sometimes terrifying visions.
The “gift” was an asset at times, especially in her chosen career path, but more often than not, Winter considered herself cursed.
Cursed people didn’t get a happily ever after.
Neither did her baby brother.
Kilroy raised her little brother—only six at the time of his kidnapping. The elder serial killer molded and warped Justin’s young mind, producing a protégé to carry on his work. Now, that little boy was a grown man, locked away in Virginia State Hospital for his own deranged serial killings.
Justin hadn’t deserved the childhood he’d endured, and Winter carried the guilt of his demise on her shoulders every second of every day.
She couldn’t have saved him then. She knew that. But far worse was the fact that she couldn’t save him now.
Rehabilitation for Justin was becoming an increasingly unlikely possibility.
Winter appreciated Autumn’s attempts to reach her brother, but the truth was in her friend’s eyes every time they spoke of him.
Justin Black was past saving.
Why should she end up with a good life, career, and relationship? She didn’t deserve to be this happy while her brother sat ruined behind barred windows.
She hadn’t even made a solid effort to visit Justin on a regular basis. Witnessing him as this monster that he’d become was horribly painful. In her heart, he was still that innocent six-year-old boy who wanted to cuddle.
The loss of their bond was so thoroughly disheartening that she’d avoided visiting as much as possible. And when she considered that Justin didn’t have anyone else, not even their grief-stricken grandparents, willing to go to him…
How would he ever get better if he was convinced that the world had given up on him?
Selfish. Not stopping in to check on her baby brother more often had been selfish as hell. Maybe going to that building and viewing him in such a state was uncomfortable…nearly unbearable.
But Justin was trapped in the hospital every day while Winter had a world outside of those brick walls. Justin had nothing. How unbearable was that for him?
You definitely, definitely don’t deserve to be so happy.
But she was happy. She loved Noah, and despite grappling with the plague of unworthiness, she knew he loved her too.
Sun’s mind games had worked, howe
ver. Winter was suspicious now, and the effect was irreversible.
She grinned and attempted to be completely nonchalant, though she was burning inside for answers. “So, where ya been, Dalton? Local strip club?”
Sun remained only a few feet away, and Winter would bet money on the fact that Agent Ming was dying to witness an argument between the couple. The situation reminded her of high school.
Enough of this bullshit.
Noah didn’t answer, and Winter began to suggest they go somewhere private when Aiden came striding down the hall and into the main office area, followed by Autumn.
A very pale Autumn. An entirely too pale Autumn.
What in the hell happened to her?
“Okay. Someone needs to tell me what’s going on,” Winter demanded as her concern for Autumn heightened her frustration. “Now.”
Noah stepped toward her, apparently volunteering. “There’s been a murder. At the state hospital.”
All the blood seemed to flow from her head. “Is J—”
“Justin’s fine. He wasn’t involved,” Noah assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “A nurse was strangled and dumped in an elevator shaft. Her body…her body fell through the ceiling of an elevator car. Right in front of Autumn’s face.”
Winter’s gaze shot to Autumn. No wonder the woman was pale. “You were in the elevator she fell through?”
Autumn nodded and attempted to smile. It faltered on her lips. Clearly, the incident had taken a toll.
Noah ran a hand through his hair, rumpling it even more. “The local authorities are working to establish how long the body was in the shaft, determine suspects and motives, and identify a square one to start from.”
Noah looked exhausted, and though she had empathy for him—for all three of them—she was ready to add one more stricken victim to their list of worries.
Herself.
“How could you not tell me? Clue me in? My brother is in that hospital!” Though her shouts were directed at Noah, they were meant for them all.
Sun was apparently going to get the show she’d hoped for, after all.
“And you? You just decided that I should stay out of the loop on this one? Just like that?” Winter’s wrath turned to Aiden.
Noah tugged lightly at her arm, but she pulled away with a vehement jerk. He shook his head. “Of course you were going to be informed, but c’mon…you know how this works. You’re too close to this case. Too close to the crime scene.”
Too close? How ironic.
“I spent years not knowing what was happening to Justin. Years! And the whole time he was in the hands of a killer! But now, I’m too close?” She threw up her hands. “I’m done being kept in the dark. If a murderer is prowling around the exact hospital my little brother is locked up in, I should be made aware of that!”
Winter shot her glare back and forth between Noah and Aiden. Neither of them said a word. Autumn looked unsure of what to do…tackle her to the ground or pull her into a hug.
“Unbelievable! You two are a couple of assholes, you know that?” Winter kicked the nearest desk chair. “Noah…” she paused until he met her direct gaze, “tell me you’re going to keep me informed from here on out. Fully informed.”
Noah met her gaze, his dark green eyes full of apology. “That’s not my call, Winter.”
Rage cut through her chest like a hot knife. She turned to Aiden. “You? Are you going to keep me informed, then?”
Aiden stared back, his face emotionless. “I don’t make the rules, but I do follow them.”
Winter fought the urge to slap him. He’d been there. He knew the hell Douglas Kilroy had wreaked on her life because he’d witnessed the pain in person. Aiden knew finding Justin—helping Justin—meant everything to her.
She turned to Autumn, who appeared utterly miserable. Autumn had lived through her own hell. She’d lost a sibling as well.
No one understood what Winter was experiencing better than Autumn, yet her friend couldn’t even meet her eyes.
Winter turned and walked toward the door.
The three people I trust most in this horrible world…
How dare they? She would never do the same to a single one of them. If she found out that Sarah had a hangnail, she would tell Autumn immediately.
And Noah…
Noah was supposed to be on her side, always. Her partner. Her rock.
She’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop in her romantic life, and here it was.
The betrayal. The absolute betrayal…
She knew they’d all convince themselves that they were doing the right thing and “protecting” her. What they were really doing was treating her like a fragile porcelain doll.
Don’t tell Winter. She might break.
Screw them. Noah, Aiden, and Autumn were only proving, in unison, a truth she’d learned long, long ago.
Friendships, relationships, partnerships be damned.
You can’t trust anyone.
8
Justin was tired of staring at the damn lock and planning his escape.
How long could he really be expected to sit in this room doing absolutely nothing aside from performing his ass off?
I deserve an academy award.
Granted, he’d had a bit of fun earlier today in the rec room. Convincing ole Roy the schizo that the guard on duty was actually a demon in disguise sent to kill him in his sleep had been way too easy.
Roy already believed many people in his life weren’t who they claimed to be, so technically, the framework had already been set.
Justin warned him that if he didn’t kill that evil guard now, he’d suffer terribly at midnight. Roy didn’t ask how Justin knew this. He just straight up believed him.
Instantly.
Then Roy charged the guard like a damn locomotive and bit the screaming man’s ear off. Blood sprayed everywhere and the expression on the whitecoats’ faces when they ran into the room to “help” was absolutely priceless.
Priceless.
If it hadn’t been for the fact that he had an act to keep up, Justin would have collapsed in a laughing fit. That was some funny shit.
Instead, he’d laughed on the inside, which was fine. He’d been doing that for years.
That psycho had freaked out way worse than he’d hoped for, and the resulting hell that broke loose provided the few seconds needed to snatch a pen.
Now, that pen was going to serve a very important purpose.
Justin examined the lock.
Every dumbass in the hospital was otherwise engaged with the whole murdered nurse debacle. As if running around like a bunch of idiots was going to solve anything.
Dead was dead. Move on, morons.
But whatever. The chaos gave him more than enough time to practice picking the lock before “lights out” took effect.
Practice makes perfect.
Justin never did anything half-assed. His murders were masterpieces. True art.
His escape from this never-ending Looney Tunes: The Hades Version episode would display the same skill and prowess as the rest of his accomplishments.
Legendary.
His numerous outside sources were coming through magnificently. Warping the media, creating “safe houses” for him to flee to, and in general growing more loyal as the hours passed.
If his followers continued to amass so rapidly, he’d have his own full-blown cult by the time he broke out. That had never been his goal, but he could admit the benefits of such a development.
Only the weak followed, and nearly all his fans were women anyway.
Filthy, disgusting women.
But how much fun would he have killing them off one by one while they dutifully led him to safety? The possibilities were endless.
Staying in contact with his peons wasn’t even a challenge with his clandestine phone. Justin knew having a cell to connect to the outside world was risky, but he wasn’t worried about the device being found. Not really.
What could
they do to punish him? Lock him up?
Done, assholes.
He had already lost his freedom, albeit temporarily.
Many individuals are going to pay in full for that.
His recent overload of downtime had sent his mind deep down the rabbit hole regarding torture tactics. He had so many new, exciting ideas.
And given all the people he planned to kill plus the bonus idiots throwing themselves onto his path like sheep, he’d be more than able to try out some thrilling experimental inspiration.
Voices from outside his door—familiar voices—were approaching.
Winter was here, and apparently, she was showing her credentials to one of the many orderlies, Albert Rice.
Justin made a habit of memorizing names, faces, voices. He was always more than aware of his surroundings. Information and observation were two vital tools sorely underutilized by the average human being.
He walked to his cot, calm and resigned to the fact that his lock-picking practice session would have to wait. He hid the pen beneath the mattress and laid down.
Showtime.
The door opened, and sure enough, his sister entered the room, accompanied by a guard.
He hoped desperately that at least one guard would get in his way when he broke out. They were so obnoxious. Acting all high and mighty when most of them were just as sick as the convicts.
There was a reason they could work around these kinds of twisted, disturbing freaks.
Was he the only one who could do that math problem?
Winter’s visit was a complete surprise, and he was incredibly pleased. But that attitude would screw up his script. He had a specific scene planned for his big sis.
Justin pulled his knees up to his chest and began rocking. He stared at Winter with wide, fearful eyes. “W-why are you here? Please don’t hurt me!”
The shock on Winter’s face as she registered that her “poor, misled little brother” was terrified of her was absolutely epic. He wished he could take a picture and frame her expression.
Maybe I’ll just frame her actual face when I get outta here. Peel her skin right off while she’s still breathing. Perfect gem for hanging above the fireplace. How’s that for a conversation starter.
