“I know you want to leave because of what I did last night,” he said sadly.
“No.” I shook my head vigorously. “Weneed to go. Listen, you were right not to trust them and keep that door a secret. It’s a perfect escape. We can get our things and leave, run through the woods. No one will notice,” I whispered.
He sighed and hugged me tenderly. “What are you talking about, Reindeer? Fuck. I should have sealed that door instead of just changing it. Maybe when I first joined, I was confused and wanted to know for sure they were the good guys. But everything is clear for me now. Has been for months. I trust the brothers with my life.”
I jerked out of his arms. “Your president is mentally ill. He’s dangerous to himself and others. He could kill you, Malcolm. Do you understand? He told me there was a voice in his head telling him to kill you. You cannot trust him.”
He squinted for a moment, scrutinizing me. “What exactly did he say?”
“You mean verbatim?”
“Yes.”
I hesitated. If I told him word for word, he’d know more than he should and get murderously angry again. I wanted him lucid so he could finally see how deeply screwed we were if we stayed another second with these people. “He said: I’d listen to the devil telling me to get rid of my best friend so I can have…something… I didn’t listen past the killing part.”
His nostrils flared, and his chest puffed out. “I’m going to ask you one question, and I need you to tell me the truth no matter how terrible you think I’ll receive it.”
He was going to ask if Slasher and I had something going on. I knew it. I shrugged in resignation. Screw everything. We were in deep shit either way.
“Did Damien Pattison ask or want you to do anything other than taking his job? At school?” he asked.
My lashes fluttered. Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell? “You’re driving me crazy. Why are you asking about Pattison?”
“Just answer me,” he said through his teeth.
“No. God! What else would Pattison ask me to do for him?”
“Do you trust me, Reindeer?” he asked, his eyes murky.
“Not right now,” I sobbed. “They’ve brainwashed you. You can’t see the truth if it dances in your face.”
“I feel that I can say the same about you, but I’ll take my chances.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He took my hand and ushered me to the bed. Then we sat beside each other. “What’s your take on Parapsychology, Professor?”
My eyes closed. I ran my hands over my face and buried my frustration and disbelief between them. “Extrasensory perception incidents among human beings that have solid scientific evidence to back them exist. But what you want to lead me to believe…” I cringed. “I mean, seriously, Malcolm? Demonic possession? You think Slasher is possessed by the devil?”
“The devil exists, Vixen. He’s closer to you, to all of us, more than you can ever think.”
“Oh my God. Oh my God! Malcolm,” I squeezed his ice cold hands between mine, “Slasher is showing clear signs of DID… Schizophrenia… The hostility, the hallucinations… This is a preliminary diagnosis, of course. It could be something else. And by that, I mean another disease, not a paranormal possession. Even if you can’t see past how much you care about a possible psycho killer, you should help him get the treatment he needs, not…go bonkers with him.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re right. I’ll talk to him, Reindeer. I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re lying to me. Just telling me what I need to hear.”
“Just give me a day, Vixen. If by tomorrow I don’t get this all sorted out for you, we’ll go.”
My heart thrashed. “Why not now?”
“It’s late. Everybody is tired. Just get some sleep, go to work, and when you come back, I’ll do what you want.”
CHAPTER 30
VIXEN
Malcolm slept next to me. I appreciated the gesture. It put my mind at ease, yet I didn’t get any sleep. How could I when there was a mental patient on the loose, living and breathing under my roof? I didn’t feel safe in my own house. The night was a ticking bomb. Every moment could have been the last.
