The Mindf*ck Series

Chapter 19

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰, 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵.
—𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘶𝘴

𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗔

Three months ago, I thought I was going to die.

But once again, I was saved by a brother, though not the same one.

Jake walked in, firing rapidly, and threw in a smoke bomb. I wish I’d thought of a smoke bomb. I was too busy thinking I was invincible.

I’d thought I saw Marcus, but it wasn’t him. It was the other brother.

The one who had stood by me through hell and high water, and dragged me out of the pit one last time, saving me just barely in time.

And we made it out before the fire caught up. Before the building exploded. Before anyone ever knew he’d saved me.

He’d already paid off a hospital staff who closed off a wing like I was royalty, and they patched me up enough to travel by sea—on the yacht Jake also bought, since flight plans had to be changed to avoid anyone noticing my condition.

From time to time, I check in on Logan—or try to. He’s been on leave, but Jake won’t hack the FBI data base to find out more than that.

We know we have to let Logan and Hadley go. It’s what’s safest for them.

We can’t condemn corruption then drag more souls into our own damnation without facing our own hypocrisy.

I pick up Jake’s underwear and groan as I toss them into the laundry basket he can never seem to find. I still have a small limp, but I’m getting stronger with each passing day.

My hand has healed up much quicker than my leg, but the doctor swears I’ll make a full recovery with just a scar as a reminder. At least I won’t mind my new scars. They tell a better story of survival than the others.

We’re both a little lost right now, trying to find a new purpose to channel all our energy into. Jake has gotten good at fishing—weirdly enough. We’ve both gotten really good at being drunk half the day.

The pain in my leg is barely even there anymore. I’ll be glad when it’s gone completely.

My wax apple is proudly stationed next to a portrait of the ashy remnants of Delaney Grove, and I smirk at all the nails sticking out of it.

The last one was added over a month ago. There’s only one more nail to go before the apple art is complete.

Something falls, and I whirl around, a knife in my hand, just in time to see a black blur of fur as it dives behind my couch. I see the coaster that has been knocked off the table, and I curse Bennett.

“Bennett,” I hiss at the fur ball.

A small meow follows the scolding as Bennett pokes his head out from behind the couch and peers at me with innocent eyes. Damn cat.

I fill up his food bowl, and he slides across the slick, tile floor when he tries to tackle it. Then I kick on some sandals and head out for my daily walk, making my leg stronger and stronger.