Everything's fine today; that is our illusion.
-Voltaire
ROSEANNE
"Showtime?" Felix asks as I walk into the living room. My hair is pulled back, my combat boots are on, and my red shirt is the only pop of color on the otherwise black apparel.
"Final countdown."
I take out the paintbrushes, pull up my hoodie, and grab two cans of paint.
"You take the east, and I'll take the west. I'm assuming you know what that meeting is about?" Felix asks.
"Yeah. It's what we predicted from the start. Johnson and the director are about to railroad the entire investigation. Johnson has his target, which happens to be Sunmi's son, despite his numerous alibies and the fact he's states away."
"And dating a damn fancy lawyer who will give them hell before they ever even think about arresting him," Felix adds with a smirk.
"It's almost anti-climatic how predictable they all are." I feign a sad sigh, but he doesn't smile the way I expect him to.
"I'm having reservations about the final leg of the plan. I think we should just leave and let the fireworks happen instead of you risking yourself."
I quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring all the festering emotions that are aching inside my chest. Today, Lisa will leave. Tonight, Lisa will be free to forget me.
Her life will go on, and she'll eventually just see this as a blemish in her otherwise flawless character.
"I'm not risking anything but them surviving if we deviate now, Felix. Have a little faith. I'm better than them. They've not even laid a hand on me."
His lips thin, and his gaze flicks to the bullet graze on my bandaged cheek, but he doesn't argue as we pack our separate vehicles with the paint.
"Quit dawdling. We have an entire town to terrorize," I say when I know he's about to press the issue.
He's worried about me surviving.
I see a life too empty to be concerned with the notion of survival.
The road to perdition has ever been accompanied by lip service to an ideal.
-Albert Einstein
LISA
"You're fucking kidding me," I snap, glaring at Johnson as he pokes his chest out, posturing like a motherfucking gorilla about to beat the damn thing.
"You have your orders. You and the rest of your team are to return to Quantico. The director signed off on it. That's what happens when you stray from the current case to work on a closed case from ten years ago, while people continue to die in this town. Four people in one night died, and you didn't even bother to ask any questions. Nor did you bother to show up to where all the officers set up to canvas the surrounding woods in that area."
Vernon grips me before I can launch myself at the smug son of a bitch smirking at me.
I brush Vernon off, grabbing my phone as I walk out the door, ignoring the stupid fucking deputy who has the audacity to act like he's going to lead me to one of the SUVs.
Collins finally answers, and I immediately start snapping at him.
"You're letting this happen? You're letting them pull us out so they can do what? Launch a new witch hunt like the one they did ten years ago? It's obvious they didn't learn their lesson. You're really going after a pro athlete with a fucking lawyer girlfriend?"
