Psycho Inside Me (18 page)

Matthew’s gaze flicked from the phone to me and back. He
moved to the side and disappeared behind the unmoving panel.

The kitchen door was a mouse step behind me. I turned, working on the deadbolt. I couldn’t turn it. Holy crap! I pressed on the door and tried. Pulled on the door handle. The damn thing wouldn’t budge.

Crash! Matthew dove through the door, landing on the floor. He rolled back and forth for a moment, gathering his bearings.

New fear shoved strength into my hands and I turned the deadbolt like I’d never had problems with it.
I pulled the door open, bracing myself to race down the cement steps.

Slammed from behind, I spilled across
the door frame. He grabbed me at the knees, arms around them like cords. He breathed heavily, much harder than me. I pushed both arms on the welcome mat and struggled into somewhat of an Army crawl position. He clawed me back. I pulled forward two shoves and he clawed me back again.

A hard stinging and burn grew in my upper thigh. He growled and the vi
bration of his voice buzzed the pain. Holy shit, he’d bit me. I cried out, grunting as I pulled and pushed to get out of the house.

He dragged me in deeper. I couldn’t think. The pain in my leg and the tearing skin in my forearms from scraping on the ground combined with my split knuckles to override my logical capabilities.
Matthew had a good hold on me as he moved backward. I scratched for a handhold, anything to keep me from slipping further under his control.

The back of my hand ran over a cool handle. I c
lasped it, recognizing it as a tool, but not sure which one I’d gotten. The spot of hope snapped me back to myself.

Dang it, come on, Cassie. You can do this.

I rolled to my back as he pulled me completely onto the tiled surface. We couldn’t have been wrestling there on the ground more than a minute, but through the open door the sounds of sirens wafted on the night air.

Even if I died, he’d
never get away with locking those kids up. Or would he? First hand knowledge had me doubting that he’d get very much time. Most predators didn’t get more than probation for the crimes they committed against women and children. He’d work something out. They always did.

I clenched the tool in my hand and brought it to chest level.
A sharp weed pick I could use.

The counselor rose above me
. “You’re dead, you little bitch.”

“Not yet.” I curled into a crunch
and jabbed the tool into his gut, just above the navel.

He dropped beside me into the fetal position, hands pressed to his stomach.

But my anger hadn’t been assuaged. There was no rush yet. I needed the rush. I had to have it.

I crawled over him and stabbed again with the pick. And again. His moans and cries
fading with each stab. I remembered this part. The noisy death of a cowardly man. And again.

“You don’t deserve to live.” I spit on his face.
I stabbed him again, hitting his chest, the metal bouncing off the bone of his ribs. I stabbed again, and again. And again. And again. I couldn’t stop, the motion spraying blood and pieces of flesh and who-knows-what-else over me and the floor and his nice-neat kitchen. I stabbed for me, for those kids, for Deegan, and for the victims he’d continued to victimize.

He gasped one last ti
me. I clenched the pick and pulled it one last time from his gut, slowly rising from his hips where I’d crouched.

Dead, he didn’t fight me when I yanked the
key-holding lanyard from his neck. I couldn’t make myself go downstairs again. I couldn’t do that. Not for anyone. But I could make it easy for the cops to get down there to save those kids.

I took the steps two at a time, rushing down the driveway waving my arms. Red and blue lights cut through the night, stopping outside the house I’d just left. Police climbed from their vehicles, guns raised and aimed my way.
I raised my arms in the air, careful to slow down. The pick almost an extension of my hand I couldn’t let go of. I wanted to get caught, not killed. And yet, I didn’t feel extremely safe.

A male policeman approached me. “Do you have any weapons?”

“Only this. And I have his key. Go in the backdoor. You’ll see how to get downstairs. There are two kids chained up and in cages in a room.” I tossed the key at him.

He caught it and nodded.
Then motioned at the tool. “I’d feel better, if you’d put that down and kick it over here.”

I studied the pick covered in blood. If I did, then I’d truly be turning myself in. They’d have the weapon. They’d have the body. What they needed would be a confession to tie the whole thing up. I dropped it to the ground, deliberate with my kick to aim it near his feet.
“Sorry it’s so dirty. I killed him with it. But it’s not my weapon of choice.” I shrugged. “Too sloppy.”

“Okay.” He didn’t leave his spot, grabbing instead a woman cop passing him. “Downstairs in the basement, two kids. Verify there aren’t any others in the house.”

A group of cops ran toward the back. I didn’t move, but crumpled to the grass as I allowed my combined injuries to take hold. I couldn’t sob. I couldn’t do much of anything but breathe with my eyes closed.

The cop stood guard over me, but overall n
o one paid me any attention for a while. I didn’t pose a threat as I rested in Matthew’s yard in plain sight.

An ambulance backed up the driveway, stopping feet from where I held the back of my leg. The paramedics glanced at me, but pulled a gurney and rolled it to the house. If that rat-bastard got help before me, I’d throw a fit,
if I could find the energy to do it.

But
within moments, the first bed rolled out with the little boy strapped in, wrapped with blankets. His crying pierced the night in jags. An EMT muttered to his partner, “… feeds a kid dog food, man? That’s messed up.”

Dog food. The poor kids had eaten dog food.

And a sob tore through me, cutting into my reality of justice and vengeance. Up until that point, saving others had only been a theory, a potential benefit to feeding the need inside me to kill them. But saving those kids – the two I’d actually seen tied up – cemented the path I’d been sent down. I had to kill. I had to protect more kids… more like me. But first, I needed Deegan out. I needed him. Because while I needed to save others, I couldn’t do it without him. I couldn’t do anything without him.

I loved him.

Chapter 18

“Can I get you something to drink?” A female officer – I forgot her name – tapped the top of the table where I rested my head. She took the seat across from me, leaning on her elbows and folding her hands. “You’ve got to be exhausted.”

I didn’t say anything. She had her questions to ask. I’d answer what I could.

“Well, what happened?” She posed with a pen over a notepad she slid from her pocket.

“Which time?” I sat up, stretching my neck by leaning my head to each side and cocking my jaw.

The officer jerked her chin back, then leaned forward. “What do you mean which time?”

“I mean, which time are you talking about? This isn’t my first kill.” I yawned, as if bored with the whole conversation, when in fact it was all I could do not to choke on my dry tongue.

She didn’t say anything, just stared at me and blinked.

“Do you need to arrest me or anything? I’m not quite sure how this works.” And I doubted she
did either. How many seventeen-year-old girls admitted to having killed multiple times? In a calm, collected voice? I’d never even seen it on my crime shows on prime time.

“I’ll have to verify any information you give me before arresting you. I also need to inform you of your right to counsel. Do you know what counsel is?” She raised an eyebrow, like I mus
t be dumb to admit to anything, to claim to have killed anyone when I was so small.

I waved my hand and leaned back in my stiff chair. “Yep. I don’t mind. I’ll tell you, but if it will make things move faster, why don’t you grab the attorney?” The faster they got me processed, the faster they could release Deegan.

She rose from the chair. I reached out. “Wait. Could you tell me if those kids are alright?”

“They’ll make it. I don’t know how they’ll be mentally. He had the girl since she was nine when her uncle sold her. I guess he had custody of her since she was five, but got bored with her. And the boy is still an unknown. I don’t think he had him very long.” She turned back to me, lowering her voice until it was barely audible. “
Did you know he’s been a counselor for a while? He molested that girl who committed suicide from one of the groups. I guess he’d told one of the patients that once a victim seeks help, they’ll never talk again if they get victimized again because they don’t believe anything will be done to help them.” She shook her head, sadness and disbelief chopping her breathing.

“I know how you feel. There are a lot of them out there. Trust me, one a year for quite a while and then I added a ton. More fish than you’ll ever know.” I couldn’t give her more than that unless I gave her a list of names and addresses.

She watched me for a minute, then lowered her voice, leaning toward me just the barest angle. “I’m a mom. Thanks.” And she offered the smallest of smiles, as if just between us.

Maybe, just maybe, there’d be other people who would back the vigilante acts in my past… and the future ones I had yet to plan.

Chapter 19

After delivering the inside information the cops needed to accept that I was at each kill, by myself, even Bobby’s, I was handcuffed and moved toward a different holding area.

Crossing the busy police headquarters, I spotted Deegan at the desk of another officer. He looked up, as if he felt my eyes on him.

He raised his hand, stepping forward. But as he took in the handcuffs and my slow smile, his hand dropped, and he shook his head, mouthing no.

I offered a slight shrug and held his gaze until I had to turn the corner.

If my love was as smart as I knew he was, he’d stay away from me until all the trials were over. Nothing would implicate him faster than being tied to me.

And while I wanted us tied to each other, the way we deserved to be together would have to wait.

Because together had more possibilities than apart.

~21 years old~

Epilogue

“Here you go, Cassie. Your items.” Sylvia, the juvenile corrections facility clerk, handed me a small manila envelope. She slid a clipboard across to me. “Sign here that you received everything.”

I opened the envelope and a snack wrapper and some change fell out on the counter. A wry smile lifted my cheeks. “I think someone took something, Sylvia. I had a diamond watch and a bunch of cash.” I picked up the pen and signed my name, laughing. I asked my question with as much nonchalance as I could muster. “Did my dad call?” I put the pen down and returned the paper to her.

She shook her head. “No, Cassie. Your brother did to tell you happy birthday and let you know he wouldn’t be here to pick you up either, but that he hoped you liked your present?” I wondered at the message. In the next instant, h
er chocolate colored hand clasped mine through the window. “Cassie. Until your release, I haven’t had a chance to tell you this, but I’m doing it now. Thank you for the things you did to all those men. I know these past four years haven’t been easy for you. But I’m grateful for what you did to protect the children of our city. I have four kids of my own and seven grandbabies.” She squeezed my hand and let go, wiping at the moisture under her eyes. “God bless you, child.”

My dad hadn’t come for me. He’d probably written me off worse than my brother had allowed me to know. So much for practicing what he preached and forgiving the sins of others.

I could only nod at her gratitude. My four years in the all-female juvenile penitentiary had been hell. But I’d never tell them why.

Two reasons. One of them being that I hadn’t been able to plot anyone’s death.

And two…

I’d told my brother to keep Deegan away from my prison. I didn’t want to see him there. I didn’t want him to see me in all my non-glory. But I worried that he’d forgotten me. When my brother tried giving me letters from Deegan, I’d refused them. No way would I be handed a “Dear Jane” letter, ending what had only been starting for me.

The sun struck me when I walked through the final door to the street. I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the bright rays.

Across the street in the paid parking lot stood my number two. Or rather, my number one.

Deegan rested against a solid black Ford truck, his arms crossed over his stomach. A dark hat covered his blond hair and shades protected his eyes. But I could imagine the blond locks and his piercing blue gaze.

I crossed the street, coming to a stop in front
of him. I tucked my hands in jeans I still fit into from four years before and rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet. “You’re here.” I squinted up, determined to hide my anxiety that he wouldn’t be available, wouldn’t be mine.

“Of course I am. I got your notes from your brother not to contact you, but he told me when your release day was. So here I am. He’s a good kid, you know?” He uncrossed his arms and took to tapping his hand on the side panel, the metallic thump slower than my pulse.

“Yeah, I know.” I licked my lips and glanced over my shoulder. I didn’t let the relief fill me that he’d come. My habit to babble when I was nervous flashed. “I got my four year degree while inside. GED first of course, but it was cake. How are you doing?” Oh man, I wanted to jump on him, kiss his face, his neck, his ears… run my fingers through his hair. Hell, it’d been four years since I’d been in his arms. Held him. Stroked him. Talked to him.

I had no idea how dumb I sounded, but I was sure it was pretty bad.
Too much had been denied me in that dang place. Needs inside me had to be met… soon.

He smiled slow while tilting his head back. “Cassie, you’re not nervous, are you? Because prison changed you, if you are. The Cassie I love isn’t afraid to kill men or go after pedophiles and rapists on her own.”

Love. He’d said love. “You said love.” Tears crowded under my eyelids. I sniffed and let the relief cascade over me.

“Well, yeah. I wouldn’t wait so long for you, if I didn’t love you.” He reached out and wrapped his warm fingers around my biceps, pulling me close to his chest. “I love you, Cassie.”

I slid my arms around his back and looked up. “I love you, too, Deegan.”

“Now that you’re out and we have a clean slate to work with, we can see each other all the time and we don’t need to kill to do it.” He grinned down at me, his even, white teeth peeking from behind lips I was dying to taste.
“I know you have parole once a week, but your brother said it’s only for three months. And since your dad…” He let his words trail off, a blush coloring his cheeks.

“Yeah, I know. My dad. Look I’ll have to find a place. There’s no way he and I will ever be able to be in the same room together
again, let alone under the same roof.” I ran my fingers through my hair, overwhelmed at being abandoned by my dad and needing money and a place to live before the day was out.

Deegan cradled the back of my head. “Come live with me. I have my own place and it’s not far from where your brother lives – he moved in with some friends because of your dad’s drinking. I work and I don’t need help with the bills or anything so that should give you enough time to get a job and do whatever you need to do. Alright? We can do whatever we want now that we’re together.”

“You’re amazing. Thank you.” A warm glow of gratitude filled me.
Leaning up, I kissed his cheek. “Or we can pick up where we left off now because we want to… and anything else that we come up with.” I licked his bottom lip, watching his eyes widen. His chest moved faster with his breathing. Maybe he’d waited all four years like I had. If so, we had a lot of catching up to do. “I mean, how many times had we talked about making more of an impact? I have so many plans…”

His grip tightened.
“Do you really want to do more of that? You’re free, Cassie. Next time, they’ll charge you as an adult.” Worry tilted down the sides of his mouth.

I kissed his frown away. Our lips melding and mating, while our tongues danced and flicked together. His hands caressed up my back, pulling me closer, pressing my body to his. Our mouths angled on each other. He kissed across my cheek, down my neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin below my ear. I looked at the sky and gasped. Oh, how I’d missed his touch.

No point in arguing that soon with him. I hadn’t even had a chance to settle into a routine, let alone find my next victim. I’d learned things in prison from other inmates that would help in my future endeavors. I’d been counseled up the ying about things I’d never had problems with.

I closed my eyes and purred. “You’re right, Deegan. I don’t need to do that again.” Right now.

His kisses grew more feverish. I pushed back, but not far. “Let’s go to your place. We can figure out the details on everything else later.” He closed the space between us, but I bit his lip carefully, nipping the full bottom bow. “I don’t think I can wait much longer to get those clothes off you.”

Deegan’s growling reply warmed me.

We didn’t need to decide right then where our future would take us.

I’d get my way. I always did.

“I’m so glad we can continue where we left off.” He took ahold of my hand in his and walked me to the door. “We lost a lot of time.”

“Yeah, we did.” I sighed. He meant time together of course. I, however, included our vigilante efforts in that longing. Psychotic, I know. But sometimes you have to feed the fire that burns inside you. And my passions had been stifled far too long.

Maybe when one was sated – sex with my love – I’d be fine never doing the other…

I glanced in the side view mirror. My brown eyes danced. I
could pass for a seventeen-year-old again. With two ponytails and makeup, I could probably look even younger.

I raised my eyebrow. Could I go without Deegan to kill again? Or could I go without killing to have Deegan again?

Did I need one more than the other?

Nah. I needed both. And I’d be damned if I didn’t get what I wanted.

I’d have my Deegan and killings, too.