30. Rae

I lungefor the front door. My hand twists the handle. Crave yanks me back. I stumble to the ground.

The door opens.

Ned's eyes widen.

Help,I want to say. Run away.

I stay silent on the ground.

Ned stares at Crave, his gaze seething. He steps inside of the apartment and broadens his shoulders, taking up as much space as possible.

I should warn him.

Crave will kill you,I should say. You'll die.

"You hurt her," Ned growls.

Crave's lips pull into the smile I know so well. When his mask was unzipped, it revealed this small glimpse of the real him.

I never saw Officer Gaines smile. Would I have seen the resemblance then? Or would I have denied that truth?

"I fucked her, you mean," Crave says.

"I'm calling the police," Ned shouts.

Crave bellows with laughter so hard, he holds his stomach. The clamor crashes through the apartment.

Ned and I gawk at him.

"What's so funny?" Ned asks.

A tingling sensation crawls from my stomach to the back of my neck.

This isn't good.

Crave cracks his neck. "I've got a better idea."

Crave barrels into Ned, his body slamming into the wall. The two of them pummel each other on the ground. Punching. Kicking. Grunts. Pain. A fist in a cheekbone. Blood spit on the ground.

I should do something.

I should call the police.

Crave's gun is on the floor, right outside of the bathroom. I could get it. They wouldn't even notice.

I should shoot Crave.

He's killed so many people.

Crave punches, his fists railing into Ned's face, a predator mashing his rival into the ground.

Crave has done so many horrible things. I know that.

But he hasn't killed me.

You're fucking crazy,my brain argues. He's brainwashed you. Made you think you're special. You're not. He'll kill you too.

I imagine a bullet colliding with Ned's head. The explosion of brain and bone and blood. The goodness of the world dripped onto a blank canvas. The meaninglessness of it all.

Crave smashes Ned into the floor. Ned's head bounces. His eyes go dull. Unconscious.

Crave turns to me. "Who is going to protect you now?"

I bare my teeth at him. "I fucking hate you!"

"You're a goddamned broken record." Crave scowls. "Admit it, Rae. Admit who you are. You thought fucking a masked man would take away your self-hatred, because I don't give a fuck what you want or what you did."

He leans his palms against the wall, caging me between his arms. Blood is smeared on his teeth. I bite my tongue.

"I see who you are, right down to your ugly core," he murmurs. "And I'm still here. We're the same, Rae. I'm the only one who will always be here for you."

My eyes frantically search him. Those bulging brown eyes. The clean-shaven face. His black hair.

It can't be true. He has to be wrong.

But I see myself in his face. Our shared brown eyes. My dark hair that I've dyed red. My hair hasn't receded like his, but I can tell we'll have the same hairline one day. There are even wrinkles around his eyes that I know I'll have too.

I may be his daughter, but I'm not a killer.

I can't accept it. I won't admit it. I refuse.

"Just because we share blood doesn't mean we're the same," I whisper.

"Don't it, though?" he snickers, a smirk painting his lips. "You were raised by a good woman. A woman I raped and got pregnant. A woman who gave you everything. And you still ended up here with me."

He grabs the gun off of the floor, and I back away, sliding along the wall until I'm pressed against the fold-up table. I broaden my shoulders, opening my eyes wide, daring him to shoot me.

He hands the weapon to me.

"If you hate me so much, then prove it." He puts his hands behind his head in a defenseless position. "Kill me. Ned will be your alibi. Say it's self-defense, and you can forget you found me. You and your mother can go back to thinking you were born from some fucked-up dead man named Michael Hall. You can move on and put a pretty little bow on your murder-filled past." He licks his teeth, the blood smearing clean from his white canines.

I hold the gun to his forehead.

Kill him, my brain argues. He deserves it.

"The truth, our blood, feels better though, doesn't it?" he asks. "It feels right."

I pull back the hammer.

"Do it," he demands.

I pull the trigger and flinch slightly. I shoot the wall.

I drop the gun and crumble to my knees.

I can't kill him. Not now. Not when I need so many answers.

"That's what I thought," Crave murmurs.

He turns toward the door and steps over Ned's unconscious body.

Blood boils in my veins.

His blood. Mine. Ours.

No. It's my blood. I choose my own path.

And I don't choose him.

"Go kill yourself," I shout. He stills, his back to me, his hand waiting on the doorknob. "I'm not a murderer like you, and I never will be."

His lips curl back. "But you thought about asking your masked killer to take care of that rapist, Officer Gaines, didn't you?"

My heart sinks. I wanted it so badly. I wanted to enjoy Officer Gaines's death with Crave.

My vision darkens. Is he right?

Crave chuckles. "I bet you even imagined fucking Crave on top of the mall cop's dead body."

Did Crave use his Officer Gaines persona to mess with me? To manipulate me into embracing my darker side? To show me who I really am?

The door closes behind him.

My breath pants in my throat.

Outside, a car engine starts.

I rush to the window.

A truck. Dark white paint. The kind of car that so many people have.

Crave—Officer Gaines or whoever the fuck he is—has always been here. Waiting for me.

Confusion and comfort and anger wrestle inside of me. I'm not supposed to be comforted by this.

But I am. I am. I like knowing that he's been here, watching out for me.

Ned groans, finally coming back to consciousness. My eyes stay glued to that truck. Crave drives away, leaving me alone with the truth.

Our blood. Our shared DNA.

Am I really like him?

Ned pushes himself up, grunting as he strains. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, blood dashing across his skin. His eye is swollen and black, his nose bruised, and his lip is busted. He puts a hand on my shoulder.

My skin grows cold.

"I'll call the cops," Ned says.

Tears fill my eyes. There isn't a bad bone in Ned's body. He would never kill someone, even if meant protecting someone else. Every blood cell coursing through his body is undeniably good.

But me? I'm not. Even now, with everything that's happened, I still don't want anything bad to happen to Crave.

You'll hurt Crave by yourself,my brain promises. You'll get your revenge.

But it's a lie.

Ned continues: "I'll fire him. I'll?—"

"No," I whisper. "Please." Ned's brows furrow with concern. I crack my voice: "I don't want to make this a thing. Not right now. Please. I just?—"

My voice drifts off as if I'm in shock. But it's another act. A way to protect Crave so that I can take care of this on my own time. I can have Ned protect me later, in a way that I choose.

But right now, I don't want to give Ned that power.

"I'll have my brother watch him, then," Ned says. I gasp with anguish, layering on the tears. I am crying, but not from the fear of Crave. I'm crying because I'm overwhelmed. Because I can't face the truth of what wanting my killer father actually means.

Ned stiffens. He puts an arm around me.

"Okay, I won't," he says softly. "Please don't cry."

The clock ticks in the kitchen. It's past nine now. I missed my bus.

I need to go. I need distance from this. From Pahrump. From Crave. I need space to figure out where I fit in. If shared blood means anything to me.

To us.

"Can you drive me to Vegas?" I ask.

Ned kisses the top of my head. "Of course I can," he says. "I'll do anything for you, beautiful."

Ned helps me into my room and even stuffs different outfits into a duffel bag. When the police come to investigate the gunshot, Ned lies to them, protecting me from their questions and from making this thing with Officer Gaines any bigger. After that, I get him a pack of frozen peas from the freezer. He holds it to his face and beams at me like he wants to give me the world. Maybe he does.

I should feel safe. Loved. Protected. Cherished. I should feel satisfied by a man like Ned, but I don't. Not even a little. Doing the right thing matters more to Ned than I do, and that's how it will always be. I'll always matter less.

Ned will never possess me like Crave does.