Page 33 of Madness & Mayhem
I whine, digging my heels into the ground. “If you get caught, how would I know? If I get caught, how would you know? We need to stick together. It’s the smartest thing. You’re acting like an idiot in a horror movie,” I snap.
He wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me in the air and slamming me against a tree. He rolls me around until my back hits the tree, pointing his finger right in my face. “Baby Lake, listen to me and listen good, okay?” he seethes.
I swallow down my fear, nodding slightly.
“I can’t fucking do the shit I need to do, stay alive, and watch over you at the same time. Do you understand that? Not when I have a fucking stab wound in my stomach.”
I nod, tears flooding my eyes. “I’m scared, Reign,” I whisper.
He leans forward, his thumb brushing over my lips. “You don’t have to be scared, Lakyn. I’ll tear the world down to keep you safe. I can’t do that with you out here. So go inside, and I’ll be back soon.”
My heart thumps, echoing through my hollow chest. “Please come back to me,” I whisper, leaning forward until our lips are only a breath away. “Don’t leave me.”
He leans forward, our lips pressing together in the cold forest. It’s only us, and the world fades away as he claims me as what I am—his. Always and forever.
“There’s not a thing in this world that will keep me from you, Lakyn. I’ll flip heaven and hell just to keep you safe.” He kisses me once more before stepping back, wiping away the moisture on my lips. “Now go inside, baby Lake. Wait for me.”
I will. Forever.
A gust of cool night air flows inside as I open the door, and I shiver, wishing there was a blanket to keep me warm. I shut the door, walking toward the lumpy couch and settling onto the faded cushion. It’s rough, smelling like mildew and cold to the touch. I wish I had my warm sheets, the soft comforter that molded perfectly to my body. Not this lumpy, old piece of furniture.
I stare at the screen, and it feels like it takes ages before our pictures finally leave the screen and a weatherman comes on.
Outside, the wind whistles against the side of the house. The fall branches have lost their leaves, the sharp branches tapping against the side of the house. The insulation is poor, and I can feel a cold draft flow through the air.
“Come on,” I whisper, wishing Reign would be here. It’s creepy here by myself. This entire situation is creepy and unknown.
I pull my phone from my pocket. Pressing the side button, I swipe to unlock my screen, instantly seeing the messages at the bottom.
Letting out a sigh, I pull up my messages, on the top being my mom.
Mom:Call me right away.
There’s about a million more beneath that, but I can barely read them before another one comes up.
Mom:If you see this message, you better call me back right now!
I swallow down my groan as I hit the call button. It only rings once before she picks up.
“Lakyn,” she whispers, panicked. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
My brow furrows, not sure what point she’s talking about. “What are you talking about exactly?”
“You tried to kill someone? And you’re associated with that serial killer?” she whimpers. “You know who killed your dad?”
I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose as a burning sensation hits the back of my sinuses. “I had no clue who he was, or that he was going to kill Dad.”
She lets out a choked sob. “But you are with him?”
I bite my lip, saying nothing. A tear slips free, not for any reason but the betrayal in my mom’s tone. I never want her to feel that way. That I betrayed her in any way.
“Is Reign Whitmore really the slasher?” she chokes out. “The police have been here multiple times looking for you and him. Tell me it isn’t him. I let that boy intomy home.”
I roll over until the couch cushion wipes my eyes. “I can’t talk about this, Mom. Please don’t ask questions I can’t give you.”
“What am I supposed to tell them when they come back?” Her voice rises, becoming nearly hysterical. “Are you part of the murders, Lakyn? Did you kill any of those people?”
I give my hair a tug, needing the pain to focus somewhere besides every inch of my body. “Mom, I’m not talking about this. I won’t be able to talk to you for a while, okay? Just… don’t tell them anything. I never called you, okay?”