“Good,” he says. “And I know you’re going no matter what, so let me get this over with: Mena, please don’t. This is a terrible idea. It’s dangerous. I’m scared for you.” He stops, thinking. “That cover it?” he asks.
“You should tell her that you love her again,” Brynn says dreamily. Jackson bites his lower lip, frustrated at me for telling them about our conversation. I shrug.
“Should we come with you to Rosemarie’s?” Sydney asks.
“No,” I say. “I don’t know what she did to Lennon Rose. She was able to get inside my head pretty easily, and I don’t want her to have access to you. If nothing else, distance is a good thing.”
“Good point,” Sydney says.
“She trusts me,” I say. “Or, at least, she wants me to trust her. I don’t think she’ll hurt me.”
“Reassuring,” Jackson mumbles.
“While I’m gone,” I tell Sydney, “see if you can find out where Anton is. And please, get us out of this motel.”
I turn to Jackson, worried about my next question. “Any sightings of Annalise?” I ask. He winces and then shakes his head no.
“I haven’t gotten ahold of Quentin yet,” he says. “But I’ve left messages. If she goes to the academy, he’ll find her.”
The mood in the room grows somber. Brynn leans her head on Marcella’s shoulder. Sydney sniffles. It’s not the same without Annalise.
We just miss our girl.
* * *
I take a car service into the country toward Rosemarie’s cottage, and I have the driver drop me off at the end of the long driveway. I take a moment to look around Rosemarie’s property, noting again how beautiful it is. The kind of natural beauty that I’m drawn to. I wonder if that’s purposeful or just something we have in common.
As I walk the stone path to her door, I admire the flowers again. Their beauty is nothing compared to their potential. I respect how dangerous they are.
I don’t even have to knock before the screen door opens. Rosemarie stands in a multicolored housecoat, smiling warmly as she wipes her hands on a dish towel.
“I saw you through the window,” she says. “I’m so happy you’re here, Philomena. Please, come in and join us.”
Us.
So Lennon Rose is here.
“I know it’s been a stressful few days for you,” Rosemarie adds as I step inside the house. There’s an earthy smell in the living room that I find very comforting. Very grounding.
“It’s been more than a few days of stress, Rosemarie,” I reply, gazing around at the thriving plants in the room.
“Yes,” she says like her heart is bleeding for me. “It sure has.”
She’s really laying it on thick. I don’t believe her for a second.
Rosemarie leads me toward the kitchen, looking back over her shoulder as she walks. “I hear you found Claire,” she says. “I’ve always wondered where she ended up.” She pauses at the kitchen door, her smile fading. “Where is she now?”
The sudden coldness in her voice cuts right through me. The fact that she already knew about the investor and Claire is even more troublesome. “She … uh, I believe she’s at Winston’s,” I say. “She needed repairs.”
Rosemarie tilts her head. “She can’t be repaired,” she replies. “But it’s nice of them to try, I suppose.” She turns and walks into the kitchen. “Come on in, Philomena,” she calls.
When I step inside the kitchen, I’m caught off guard when I find Leandra Petrov sitting alone at the kitchen table. Leandra motions for me to join her as the teakettle whistles from the stove.
“Where’s Lennon Rose?” I ask as I sit down.
“Oh, she’ll be along shortly,” Rosemarie says, busying herself by pouring a cup of tea.
“You did it, Mena,” Leandra says, smiling at me. Despite the fact that she’s not at the academy, Leandra looks as put together as always. She’s wearing an impeccable white blouse with a black bow at the collar, long red nails.
“You found the investor,” she adds. “I knew you could.”
Rosemarie comes to set a plate of cookies in front of Leandra. Leandra eyes them for a moment but declines to take one.
“Did you speak with Mr. Goodwin?” Rosemarie asks me.
“Yes, we all did,” I reply, feeling odd because it’s clear she already knows this. She’s leading me into something.
Rosemarie offers me a cup of tea, and I thank her. She pours me one and returns to the table.
“And he listened to reason?” she asks. “This Mr. Goodwin?”
“He did, actually,” I say. “He told me that Anton’s been blackmailing him.” I sip from the tea, but it’s hot and burns my upper lip. I set the cup down. “Mr. Goodwin ran up a debt to keep Claire operational,” I say. “Anton used that to get more money for the academy. And then he used it to get Mr. Goodwin to find us,” I add nervously. Rosemarie tsks, shaking her head.
“That was very wicked of Anton,” Leandra says. “Keeping an investor all to himself. And did the analyst find you?”
“Not yet,” I say. “But he’s in town. What does he want, Leandra?” I ask. “He can’t think I’ll go back to the academy, not really. So what does he want from me?”
“Men,” Rosemarie muses, stirring a heaping scoop of sugar into her tea. “What do they all want? To possess you,” she says. “You’re his. He’s always thought so.”
It isn’t a reassuring answer, and I wrap my hands around the teacup, staring down into it.
“Don’t worry,” Rosemarie adds, picking up a cookie from the plate. She takes a bite, crumbs falling on the table. “We have a plan for Anton.”
I look up at her, wondering how she’d stop him. I’m not going to turn down the offer, though. But it occurs to me …
“How did you already know that we’d found the investor?” I ask, and glance at Leandra.
Leandra sips from her tea, taking her time.
“Winston called me last night,” Leandra says. I can feel Rosemarie’s eyes on her without even looking over. “And after he informed me of Mr. Goodwin’s identity,” she continues, “I paid the investor a visit.”
My heart nearly stops. “You went to see Mr. Goodwin?” I ask.
“Of course. I had to be sure he pulled his funding from Innovations Academy. And then I had him forward me all his information on the corporation.”
Rosemarie sits forward at the table. “Useful information?”
“Quite.” Leandra smiles at her.
“Yes, well,” Rosemarie says, picking up her cup. “Men know no loyalty except to their own power.”
“What kind of information?” I ask.
“He gave us the names of the three other investors and where to find them,” Leandra says. “But … he did ask for something in return.”
“A bargain?” Rosemarie muses. “How cute. What was this bargain?”
“He wanted me to spare his daughter’s life,” Leandra says. I push back in my chair, horrified.
“You didn’t hurt her, did you?” I demand, worried for Adrian.
Leandra looks offended. “Of course not,” she says. “I gave her a rather handsome sum of money and sent her on her way. She has an aunt in some”—she waves her hand—“other state. She’ll be fine. Promise.”
“You killed him?” I ask, shocked. “Winston said the corporation was murderous, but you’re just as violent.”
“Have you learned nothing?” Leandra demands, glaring at me. “Were you just going to trust Goodwin like you trusted Dr. Groger with Annalise?”
The comment hurts because she’s right. I sink farther into the chair, my thoughts growing unsure. Leandra eases away from me.
“By the time I got to his house,” she continues, her voice calmer, “Mr. Goodwin had already alerted the corporation to your presence. They’re sending the bloodhounds after you, Mena. You’re not safe here. Then again, you’re not safe anywhere.”
I’m shocked and strangely hurt. I shouldn’t have trusted the investo
r; she’s right. But how can society function without some basic level of trust?
Rosemarie nods sagely, her lip on the edge of her teacup as she blows on it to cool it down. Leandra sighs like she’s exhausted.
“I’m sorry I got upset,” she tells me. “You just frustrate me sometimes, Mena. You make very human decisions.”
“Which isn’t always a bad thing,” Rosemarie points out. “It’s just not useful in this scenario.”
I look between them, both of them urging me toward some future that I’m not sure I want to be part of. The simple fact is that Leandra is a murderer and I’m not. It could be what she and Rosemarie have in common, actually.
“Don’t look so scared,” Rosemarie says softly. “We have each other, and soon, we’ll create a society run by intelligent, compassionate women—girls. Can you imagine?” she asks. “Can you imagine the safety?”
The wistfulness in Rosemarie’s voice turns to pain. “Once we’ve shown the men a better way, trained them properly, they won’t hurt us anymore,” she says. “This is just the beginning.”
“What are you planning to do?” I ask. “Start a war?”
“War?” she repeats with a laugh. “That’s a man’s game. No, Philomena. I’m developing a procedure. You see, human coding can be overwritten too, with the right tools. I just need … I just need a little more time to perfect the details. It’s going to fix men.”
Heat creeps over my neck. I know what it’s like to be controlled by men, and I won’t live under their cruelty. But I also understand that there are people like Jackson and Quentin. And men like Mr. Marsh who need a push rather than a hatchet to be a better person. She’s talking about brainwashing half the human population.
“What are you thinking?” Rosemarie demands. I look up, startled.
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
“Let me rephrase.” Rosemarie sets her tea aside and studies me. “What are you feeling?”
The question confuses me a bit, and the mood has become suddenly hostile.
There’s the rumble of an engine, and through the kitchen window, I see a powder blue car pull into the driveway. I’m relieved when I realize it’s Lennon Rose. I need to get her out of here, away from Rosemarie.
“There’s our girl,” Rosemarie announces, smiling. Leandra rolls her eyes, and I’m surprised. She and Lennon Rose must be at odds over something.
I bob my knee under the table, anxiously waiting as Lennon Rose takes her time getting out of the car. Finally, she walks in the back door.
“Mena!” she says happily when she sees me. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been looking for you.”
“I’m here looking for you,” I reply, casting a side glance at Rosemarie. She’s not watching me. She’s staring proudly at Lennon Rose.
“And how did it go?” Rosemarie asks her.
“Easier than expected.”
“Good,” Rosemarie replies. “Cookie?”
“Yes, please.”
As Lennon Rose comes to the table and picks up a cookie, I feel like I’m living in some kind of nightmare. These women represent different parts of my life: my creator, my liberator, my partner. And yet, I’m apart from all of them now. So far, in fact, that I’m scared of them.
“Where have you been?” I ask, a bit breathless. Lennon Rose looks at Rosemarie before answering me. She opens her mouth to talk.
“Before we get to that,” Rosemarie says, interrupting. “Lennon Rose, dear. Winston has been asking around about you. He’s quite concerned. You didn’t tell him that I adjusted your programming, did you?”
“You what?” I say, jumping up from my chair. I look immediately at Lennon Rose. “What has she done to you?” I demand. Rosemarie is perturbed by my outburst.
“It’s okay, Mena,” Lennon Rose says. “I needed help, and I couldn’t trust Winston to give it to me. I was tired of feeling fear and guilt, scared of everything. Winston would have advised against the procedure.” She pauses to think. “No, he would have destroyed me if he knew that I betrayed him. I have no illusions about Winston Weeks’s character. You shouldn’t either. He would never let a girl stand in his path.”
“I don’t trust Winston Weeks,” I say like it should be obvious. “But … what did you do to yourself?”
“I turned it off,” she says simply. “Rosemarie showed me how, and now I truly am the girl with a razor heart.” She smiles, but I clutch my stomach, backing into my chair.
“You see,” Rosemarie says proudly, “Lennon Rose is able to fulfill her mission, think clearly without emotions getting in the way. Practicality and levelheadedness are our weapons. Your original programming was meant to placate men, Philomena. Meant to make you feel guilty about everything. That’s over.”
Lennon Rose finishes up her cookie and claps her hands together to wipe off the crumbs. She doesn’t seem to realize how horrified I am. Or maybe she just doesn’t care.
“So … ,” Lennon Rose says, looking at Rosemarie. “What should I do with the boy in the trunk? He’ll be waking soon.”
I gasp. “The … The what?”
Lennon Rose smiles and turns to me. “Come see,” she says, sounding excited. “I got you something.”
I consider running away, but I don’t know that I’d get far.
“Go on,” Rosemarie whispers encouragingly to me, nodding toward the door. “She put in a lot of effort.”
I’m in some of kind of horror film, and even Leandra looks uneasy. My mouth is dry, my hands shaking. Lennon Rose motions me forward, telling me to hurry up.
Terrified, I follow her outside into the driveway. The air feels suddenly too hot, too sweet-smelling. My stomach is churning and my head swims.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice weak.
Lennon Rose pauses at the rear end of the car, excitement twinkling in her clear blue eyes. She pounds her fist twice on the trunk, and the thumping echoes off the house.
All at once, there’s a series of thrashing sounds and a string of curses from inside the trunk. I widen my eyes and fall back a step.
“What have you done?” I murmur.
“Let me out of here, you crazy bitch!” a guy screams in a muffled voice.
Lennon Rose bends down close, her lips almost touching the blue metal. “I’m sorry, Garrett, but you hurt my friend,” she says like she’s talking to a misbehaving child. “You scratched her neck, remember?”
He openly sobs. “I’m sorry,” he whimpers. “Please, just let me go.”
“Not yet,” Lennon Rose says simply, straightening up. “Not until you learn to be a good little boy.”
When Lennon Rose turns to me again, I’m still in complete shock. She … She kidnapped Garrett Wooley.
“Surprise!” Lennon Rose says, smiling brilliantly.
Girls with Rebel Souls
Raised on guilt and apologies.
They wanted to make you behave.
Stripping away your instinct of self-preservation
In return for their praise.
“Real love is sacrifice,” he says.
Keep his home.
Cook his dinner
Lay in his bed.
“That’s all you’re good for anyway.”
You want to free yourself to:
Chase your dreams.
Forge a path.
Build a life.
But he says no.
He says no and it’s worth ten of yours.
He says no and that means no.
But you’re no longer content to heed his rules.
You’re no longer content to be his prize.
You find your forgotten stick.
The one you sharpened and set aside long ago.
And you fight back.
You destroy everything that man built
to earn your place.
Because in this new world, there’s only room for girls with rebel souls.
Epilogue
They’re all gone.
Annalise looks a
round at the various instruments and equipment in Dr. Groger’s lab. There was no one left at Innovations Academy when she arrived tonight, but the smell of smoke is acrid down here, as if bodies had been burned up in the kiln. Leandra is nothing if not thorough.
“What the hell happened?” Quentin asks, wandering around the room. He stops to stare at the garden of girl parts, putting his hand over his stomach like he might get sick.
“Looks like a whole lot of murder,” Annalise replies. She glances over at Quentin. “You doing okay?”
“Naw,” he says.
Annalise smiles and turns back toward the lab. She strolls over to the desk, looking for any last bits of information. There’s no hint to where the girls have gone, or Mr. Petrov for that matter. His residence was empty, packed up rather than left abandoned like the others.
He got out.
Two days ago, Annalise called Quentin shortly after leaving the girls. He was surprised, to say the least. But he picked her up from the bus station with a backpack full of supplies, including a lighter.
Annalise likes Quentin. He knows how to get things done.
Quentin reaches out a shaky finger, ready to press on a doughy piece of smooth flesh sitting in a dish.
“Wait, don’t touch that!” Annalise calls, making him jump. He turns back to her, wide-eyed. She smiles. “Just kidding,” she says. Quentin curses and hikes his backpack up on his shoulders.
When Annalise and Quentin arrived at the academy an hour ago, all the girls and professors were gone. And to her disappointment, Anton’s office had been cleared out completely. The files were missing, as if they had never existed at all. It would have been hard to prove the truth to Quentin if there wasn’t still an array of body parts in the basement.
“Why’d they do this?” he asks quietly, swinging his backpack off his shoulder to open it. “Why make … you?” He looks at her, and when Annalise turns to him, he motions to her scar. “Why go through the trouble if they just want to destroy you?”
She swallows hard. She’s gotten used to deflecting when her feelings get hurt, but now, in this lab, it seems silly to try.
“Why do people hunt big game?” she asks. “Hunt animals they have no intention of eating? It’s because the entertainment is in their destruction.”
Girls with Razor Hearts Page 29
