33. Rae

A new padlockis chained to the fence around the Galloway House. I throw my purse and shoes over the gate, then I climb the fence. My bare feet cling to the links. It's painful, but it doesn't stop me.

I drop down to the dirt and slip back into my shoes. Crave may not even be here right now.

I walk forward anyway.

The house is different now that I know my connection to the place. Everything feels strange, like it's not as big as before. Like everything that happened was a dream.

Inside, the house is empty. Quiet. Everything is clean. The blood-stained couch is missing. There's fresh paint on the walls, and a clinical, fresh scent hangs in the air. Like someone's trying to cover up the past again.

I sit on the floor in the living room.

I'm back to where I started. I don't even know Crave's real name. I don't know how to find him.

A fist bangs on the front door.

"Hello?" a loud male voice calls. "Is someone in there? You're trespassing on private property. I'll call the police."

I walk toward the entrance quickly and open the door. Ned jolts, shocked by my sudden appearance. He pulls me in for a hug.

"Oh, hey!" he says. "I thought you were those teens messing with the house again. When did you get back in town? I didn't realize you were home."

Home.He thinks Pahrump is my home. If anything, the Galloway House is my home.

There's a lot of things Ned doesn't realize about me.

"I just wanted to see the place one last time," I say.

"I get that," he says. Like my mother, Ned still thinks Michael Hall—the supposed murder-suicide perpetrator—is my father. "You should've called me. I could've taken you out for a welcome-home dinner."

My lips curl. He's so nice, it's pathetic.

"Can I have Officer Gaines's info?" I tuck my hair behind my ear. "Sorry," I say. "I know that's weird. But can I?"

Ned's lips pull down. "Why?"

"I need to know where he is." I tap my lips and choose words he'll sympathize with: "So I can feel safe."

"Of course."

He sends me a text with Gaines's contact information attached. I click the file. The address opens to the map app, giving me automatic directions to where Crave lives. I know exactly where he is now.

Ifhe's still there.

"What was he doing at your apartment anyway?" Ned asks.

I could tell Ned something close to the truth—that we were fucking—and Ned wouldn't fault me for it. He's too respectful of my independence for that. But there's another half-truth that will give me the best advantage.

"He was following me," I whisper.

For a while, we're both silent. It's strange that Crave had worked for Ned for years, and Ned never suspected him of anything evil.

I did. I knew there was something wrong with Officer Gaines. I never trusted him. I just had no idea how much was wrong, or that I liked that wrongness when it came from Crave.

Ned doesn't suspect anything evil about me either.

"Why don't you ever let me see your cock?" I blurt. It's out of the blue, but I don't care right now.

Ned blushes, glancing down at his waistband. "What are you talking about?"

"We had sex for months, but it was always you going down on me." I shrug. "I just want to know why."

"It's all about you," he says cautiously. "With everything you do for me, it should be your pleasure. You deserve it."

I tilt my head to the side. That she-comes-first habit made me think he was my masked killer at one point. It seems so obviously wrong now. Crave doesn't give a shit about my orgasms, nor do I care about his.

"You trust everyone, don't you?" I ask.

He gives me a lopsided grin. "You always have to believe in people," he says. "Otherwise, what are we living for?"

I laugh. It's insane how warm-hearted he is. His life has been one big pile of roses and rainbows.

Ned laughs too.

I gesture around. "The place looks good."

He rubs his forehead. "It does. We're still considering hosting the anniversary party here next year." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Crap."

"What?"

"Do you have any ibuprofen? My head is killing me."

I open up my purse and find a small container of pills. Next to it, there's the label-less water bottle.

Maybe the poison was never meant for me.

Maybe it was another one of my father's gifts.

Maybe he always believed in me.

I hand Ned the pills container and the bottle. He pops three pills, then downs the entire bottle, his face twisting in a grimace as he finishes the drink.

Every drop. Down, down, down.

"What brand is this?" he asks. He crumbles the plastic. "It tastes terrible."

I lean closer to him. "I added a vitamin mix to it."

He wrinkles his nose. I watch him. What will happen? How long will it take? Or is this another test? A final game orchestrated by Crave?

I want to fuck Crave for that.

Ned straightens himself, then lets out a long sigh. "So," he says. "What's next?"

"I should move back to Pahrump," I say. "Vegas isn't good for me."

"How so?"

"Well, it's?—"

Ned grabs his stomach, lurching to the side.

"Jesus," he says. He grabs the wall. "Fuck. That hurts."

Ned never curses.

He wipes his nose. Blood smudges his pale skin. "What?—"

His body begins to convulse. I peer down at him, watching every turn. Every twitch. Every movement of his body. It fascinates me. How long will it take for him to die? Or will he be in pain for a while? What will happen next?

"It's an allergic reaction," he mumbles. "Call an ambulance. Shit?—"

He doesn't suspect me. Not even now.

I stand taller, towering over him as he falls to his knees. His mouth, eyes, and nose bleed as his body flails on the ground. So human. So natural.

Ned is wrong. Even if you don't believe in others—even if you only believe in yourself—there are other reasons to live.

Sometimes, that reason lies in the darkness. And sometimes, that darkness finds you.

Ned rolls to his side, vomit splashing on the floor. Black and red lumps mixed with green bile coat the laminate. It's beautiful in a putrid way.

I unzip his pants and pull out his cock. The shaft is small, like a pink hamster pup curled up. It could grow. It wouldn't be so bad.

Still, it irks me. His willingness to give me orgasms was never about me. It was about hiding his insecurities. Even someone like Ned can lie.

I honestly don't care about penis size. Sex has never been about my pleasure; it's always been about getting what I want from others. Then I met Crave, and I learned that sex could be pleasurable for me too. Crave fucks me so good, he makes me forget myself.

I pull down my thong, then hike up my dress. I sit on Ned's face. He can barely move, the poison paralyzing him. It feels good knowing that he's dying now, and that it's not just the poison that's killing him, but I am too. My pussy is smothering him.

Part of me knows that this darkness was always inside of me. Now that Crave has entered my life, I'll never know if I would've turned out to be a thief who eventually grew out of her pickpocket habit. I'll never know if I would've always turned out this way, with or without my father.

I'm okay with that.

I smear my cunt over Ned's face, painting him with his blood, his saliva, flecks of his vomit, and my arousal. Power fills my body.

I'm alive.

In my mind, Crave's mask fades away. Brown eyes glitter with greed. His entire focus fixated on me.

I always knew not to trust Officer Gaines. My mistake was trusting Crave.

But that's not a mistake anymore.

When Ned finally stops moving, I stand, lifting off of him. I look down at the corpse. A shell of a man. Everything good and pure and loving in this world. A man I should want to be with. Someone my mother would have loved.

Someone my father sees right through.

Someone I knew would never satisfy me.

I lick my lips, then check my phone again. I need to get rid of the body.

I'll ask my father for help.