Page 58 of Dark Therapy

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Page 58 of Dark Therapy

The officers behind him began to move toward me, but I didn’t let them touch me—not yet. I stepped back, carefully, just enough to maintain a sense of control, letting them think I wasabout to comply. And when they moved, I went willingly. I knew their eyes were on me, but the truth was, I’d already calculated the entire situation.

They didn’t know what they were walking into.

As I passed through the door, the weight of their hands on my arms was almostlaughable. They thought they had me. They thought this was the end. They had no idea howeasilyI could slip out of their grasp.

I walked to the car with a measured pace, my thoughts already calculating how I would turn the tables. They had no body. No witnesses. Norealproof of anything I’d done. And even if they had something—some thread theythoughtthey could pull on—I’d tear it apart in the blink of an eye.

They threw me in the back of the police car, and I leaned back against the seat, my mind a thousand miles away, already plotting my next move. The city passed by in a blur, but I was calm. As always.

Lawson sat in the front, his voice steady, but I could hear the faintest edge ofexcitementin his tone. He thought he had mecornered, but it was nothing more than a small victory in a much larger game.

I would find my way out. I always did.

?????????

In the stark, fluorescent light of the interrogation room, I sat across from Lawson, calm and composed, hands cuffed and resting on the cold metal table. The detective positioned himself opposite me, pressing play on a screen between us with a look of barely concealed satisfaction. I raised a brow, curiosity flaring as the video began to play.

The footage was grainy, the angle slightly askew, but the scene was unmistakable. It wasme—in Amelia’s room, Jake’s lifeless body on the floor, blood staining her carpet in dark, visceral streaks.

A fuckingteddybear?

MyMillie, my clever,clevergirl. She had caught me in the act. She had been playing her own game all along, more cunning than I had given her credit for.

An amused smirk tugged at my lips. “Clever,” I murmured, not even bothering to mask the spark ofexcitementcoursing through me. A part of me wanted to laugh—she had set this trap so fucking perfectly, had hidden this little eye in her sanctuary where I never thought to look.

Lawson’s eyes narrowed, clearly disturbed by my reaction. “Somethingfunnyto you, Blackwell?” he growled, his voice barely masking the hatred he harbored.

“Funny? No, Detective,” I said, allowing the smirk to spread fully now. “Fascinating?Absolutely.” My voice was low, tinged with genuine admiration.

The detective looked thrown, confusion flickering in his gaze, as if he couldn’t fucking understandwhyI’d be impressed by my own incrimination. But hedidn’tunderstand Millie—not likeIdid. She wasn’t just my obsession; she was myequal, a worthy adversary in a game only the two of us understood.

He leaned forward, the hard edge of his voice returning. “Doesn’t matter how you feel about it, Blackwell. What matters is that we have you—on tape, committing murder. There’s no talking your way out of this.”

But as he spoke, all I could think of was her face, her eyes when she looked at me that last night—a mixture of fear, defiance, and something that bordered on understanding. She hadseenme for what I was, had anticipated my every move. And she had left this trap waiting,knowingI’d walk right into it.

The cuffs around my wrists felt tight, grounding me in the moment, but my mind was elsewhere. I was already planning, scheming, envisioning how I would get out of this—and how I’d seeheragain.

“Detective,” I said, leaning back, relaxing as if we were two old friends sharing drinks, “you’re playing a part in a game you don’t understand. You’renothingmore than a pawn.”

Lawson’s face hardened, his frustration palpable. But his anger was nothing more than white noise, a distraction from thethrillcoursing through me.

She wanted me to see this. She wanted me tofeelthis—to know I wasn’t as in control as I’d thought. I would find her. When this was all over, I’d return to her, and she’d see what a masterpiece she’d created by pushing me to the edge.

UNSPOKEN CONFESSIONS

Amelia

As I sat alone in my house, the silence wrapped around me, heavy and suffocating. Today had been…surreal. I had stood in that courtroom, looking at him from across the room, and though every inch of me wanted to turn away, I couldn’t. His eyes had stayed locked on me, unwavering and intense, as if I was the only person in that packed room, the only one thatmattered.

When I testified, I kept my voice steady, gave the answers they needed. I recounted the events with careful precision, sticking to the details from the video. The murder.Justthe murder. I showed them only what they needed to see, the evidence that would lock him away, at least for now.

But I hadn’t shown themeverything.

The secrets I carried, thehorrorshe’d inflicted on me beyond what that one moment in the video could capture… those were buried. Hidden under the weight of memories that I didn’t dare expose to strangers. Maybe it was fear that held me back, a fear of what they’dthink, what they’d see in me if they knew everything. Or maybe… maybe a part of me couldn’t let go of the twistedbondwe shared, a bond that even now, after everything, still had a grip on my mind.

I exhaled, hands trembling as I traced my fingers over my wrist, remembering the bruises that had faded but never left me. No, I hadn’t told them everything, hadn’t given them the whole truth. And he knew that. In the way helookedat me, there was no accusation, no anger—only that maddeningcertainty. Like he knew I hadn’t truly betrayed him, not fully.

And that realization was almost as terrifying as everything else.




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