Louisa Kensington
And last but by no means least, the Chief of Police…Craig Patterson.
Regina jolts back at the last name, her word lowered by a whisper. “No.”
“Makes sense now, doesn’t it?”
The chief wouldn’t take our statement seriously.
He wouldn’t even give us a chance to bring in witnesses, because he’d deemed us liars from the moment we said his fellow buddies’ names.
All the while, he knew we would have been telling the truth.
My molars threaten to crack when I think about it. How long has he worked with my sister and brother-in-law? Did he tell them the minute I left the station?
That just solidifies that Louisa knew fucking all along.
My eyes bat closed, and I interlink my fingers as I squeeze my hands together tightly, trying to conceal the new wave of rage coursing through me.
And when I speak, I don’t even recognise my voice.
Like a darkened force has taken over me, washing away any traces of the Indie I once was.
What happened to me after my assault changed me, but the Indie who’s been betrayed by her own flesh and blood?
She’s lethal.
You could even say she’s about to become heartless, because no one in their right mind would even consider what I’m about to do.
This will tear my family apart if I’m ever caught, but right now, I’m so far down the path of destruction that I can’t find it in myself to care.
“They won’t be a problem for much longer.”
“What do you mean?” Regina asks, leaning forward, and I twist my head to look at her.
“Because all six of them are going to die, Gina. Even my sister.”
3
Indie
russian roulette - rihanna
Sleephasalwaysbeena struggle for me, to the point where I’d give up most of the time. But these last few weeks, I’ve felt a comfort I hadn’t had in a long time.
Last night was the exception; I couldn’t keep my eyes closed if I tried.
Hours have passed, and now it’s morning, and I just know I’m going to physically struggle through this day.
All I saw was my sister’s face in the dark, her fake, brazen smile as she lined that stage, grinning from ear to ear as the demons in the crowd screeched for her.
The glass-covered fireball in my chest has simmered to a low boil, but it leaves a dull ache that might now be there until my dying days.
I’m in Saint’s bed, still waiting for him to make an appearance. I went to his room after Regina left mine last night, waiting for him to come in.
He still hasn't.
I’m assuming he’s been busy discussing their next move, and divulging and assessing the information he gathered. A part of me wanted to go find him, to ask him if he really did lie to me.
