Page 83 of The Rookie's Second Chance

I’d knocked Kayla out cold right there in the back of the van. The plan was perfect, simple but effective. I would get rid of her, and then Jake would have no choice but to turn to me. I’d be his comfort, his savior. But damn it, Jake had to show up just in time, ruining everything. He’d stopped me before I could finish the job.

I clenched the steering wheel, my knuckles whitening. It was so frustrating. If only he hadn’t gotten there when he did, everything would’ve been different now. I would have Jake all to myself, and that meddling Kayla would be out of the picture.

But now, I realized I could use Kayla to my advantage. She could be the key to getting what I wanted. I could use her as leverage over Jake. The thought excited me, a rush of adrenaline pumping through my veins. I could make Jake choose and force his hand. He’d have to see that we were meant to be together.

I took a deep breath as I reached the van, hidden amongst the trees. This was it—the moment when everything would come together. I’d been planning, waiting, manipulating for so long. It was time to put everything into action.

I opened the van door, the familiar creak sounding like music to my ears. Stepping inside, I ran my hand along the interior, feeling the cold metal and the remnants of my previous plans. This van had been my sanctuary, my operation base. And now, it would be the catalyst for my final move.

I sat in the driver's seat, feeling a sense of power and control wash over me. With a twist of the key, the engine roared to life, a beast awakening from its slumber. It was time to bring my plan to fruition.

I pulled out of the hiding spot, my eyes set on the prize. Jake would be mine, one way or another. The only downside to my plan was Daddy wasn't here anymore to bail me out if things went south. He’d always been my safety net, pulling strings and using his influence to keep me out of trouble. But now, I was on my own. I had to be careful. There was no room for error.

I was sitting at the kitchen table in my parents' house in Key West, the ocean breeze wafting through the open window. It was supposed to be calming, but nothing could soothe the storm inside me. I was trying to focus on my writing, the book I had been working on for months, but the publishers kept rejecting it. They said it wasn’t good enough, but what did they know? Their rejections were just fueling my anger, a fire burning inside me, growing stronger each day.

My dad walked in, holding a stack of forwarded mail from my old apartment. I’d been evicted for not paying rent, but that was a minor setback. I was living with my parents because I needed "a little extra support," or at least that’s what they told me. I knew they thought I was crazy, but I wasn't. They were overreacting. Daddy especially. If he truly thought I was crazy, he would have never helped me cover up what happened with Garrett.

The memory of that night flashed in my mind. Garrett was supposed to get scared, not fight back. It was his fault, not mine. Daddy understood that. He knew it was for the greater good.

I started rifling through the mail, mostly bills and junk, until my fingers grazed something different. An invitation. My heart stopped as I pulled it out. It was an invitation to Lexi's wedding. Lexi... my Lexi. The thought of her getting married to someone else ignited a firestorm of emotions within me.

Lexi was mine. How could she be getting married? The betrayal felt like a physical blow, a sharp pain in my chest. I'd done everything for her, been the perfect friend. I’d even gotten rid of Garrett for her. And this was how she repaid me?

I unfolded the invitation, my hands shaking. I had to stop this wedding. I had to do something drastic, even if it meant killing this Luke guy before they could say, 'I do.' But as I scanned the invitation, my heart sank even further. The wedding had already happened. It was over. They were married.

I felt my world collapsing around me. All my plans, all my dreams of being with Lexi, shattered in an instant. The invitation slipped from my trembling hands, fluttering to the floor like a fallen leaf.

I couldn't breathe. My chest tightened, and I gasped for air. A panic attack was clawing its way up my throat, squeezing my lungs. I couldn't think straight. Everything was spinning, the walls closing in on me. Lexi was gone, married to someone else. My plan, my future with her, everything I had worked for, was gone.

I slumped to the floor, my back against the kitchen cabinet. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to breathe. I felt betrayed, lost, and utterly alone. Lexi was supposed to be mine, and now she belonged to someone else.

Suddenly, I couldn't contain it anymore. A primal scream erupted from me, a raw explosion of all the pain and anger I had been holding back. My parents and Jude, who were in the living room, rushed in, startled by my outburst.

In a blind rage, I stood up, overturning my chair with a loud crash. I started throwing whatever I could get my hands on, my emotions a whirlwind of destruction. I didn't even realize what I was doing until I saw my chair hit my mom, knocking her to the floor. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead, and my heart stopped for a moment. What had I done?

Jude rushed to her side, his face a mask of concern, while my dad tried to approach me, his hands raised in a calming gesture. "Mandy, sweetheart, calm down. Tell me what's wrong," he pleaded, his voice steady but filled with worry.

Through my sobs, I tried to explain, but all that came out was a jumbled mess of words. "I lost the game... someone else got Lexi..." It sounded so petty when I said it out loud, but the pain was real.

My dad's expression shifted to one of deep concern. He murmured something to Jude, a phrase that sounded like a code. Jude pulled out his phone, and I instantly knew he wasn't just calling for help for Mom.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, my voice thick with tears and suspicion.

"Just getting help for Mom," Jude replied, but his eyes avoided mine. I knew he was lying. He was always the one to cover for me, to take the fall when things got messy. And now, he was betraying me, turning me in to the authorities or worse.

A surge of panic and betrayal washed over me. I couldn't let them do this. I couldn't be locked away, not when there was so much left to do. In a moment of desperation, I shoved my dad, hoping to create a distraction, an escape. He stumbled backward, his head striking the edge of the table with a sickening thud.

The room fell silent, save for my heavy breathing. My dad lay motionless on the floor, a growing pool of blood under his head. My mom, still dazed from the blow and lying beneath Jude's kneeling form, looked at me with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

I knew... I knew I couldn't let them live. If I did, they might ruin everything. I would have to kill them all. Starting with my cousin. My protector.

Quick as lightning, while Jude was distracted, I grabbed the frying pan off the stove. I had one chance to get him down, to at least knock him out, or he would be able to fight back. I raised the pan over my head and brought it down as hard as I could, hearing the crack and watching the red splatters blossom across the room. Jude crumpled to the ground, unconscious, his body motionless.

Next, I needed to deal with Mom. Her eyes were wide, and she whimpered softly as I raised the pan again and brought it down directly on her face. Her skull caved in with a sickening crunch, blood oozing out of her mouth.

Finally, I moved on to my dad. He had regained consciousness by then, watching with detached fascination as I grabbed the knife from the table and sliced his throat open. He struggled weakly, reaching out to grab me, but he was too slow. The sound of his gurgling breath cut short by the cold steel blade in my hand made me feel no remorse, only relief.

I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest, staring at the lifeless bodies of my parents and Jude. They had been my shield, my protectors, but now they were gone, silenced forever by my own hands. The realization was both terrifying and liberating. I had crossed a line from which there was no return.

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