Page 5 of Twist Me

At that moment, the lights started to dim, and Pharaoh tried one more time to get his answers from me while Judas said goodnight to all his little friends. “So, who’s the ‘Z’ for?”

I smiled, and as the lights finally turned to black and the sounds of our breathing surrounded us, I said, “A new addition to my collection.”

The gavel slammed into its mark, the loud wooden smack making my ears buzz.

“Ms. Ezello Maria Juave Lavita. The jury will now decide your status on the claims against you. Do you have anything else to say before they deliberate?”

I tapped my pen on the paper in front of me. My lawyer looked about as pleased to be here as I did. The lines I wassupposed to say were playing in my head on a loop. Davidson told me this would be the final decision that could grant me access to the asylum because the jury deemed me sane but criminal. In the real world, a person given this sentence would simply go to prison.

But we were out of options, so I couldn’t fail and needed to play my part right. Saying one wrong thing in the incorrect tone would probably blow my cover. Swallowing, I centered myself, envisioning all the depravity that Zelle, my cover pseudonym, had done.

Looking into the eyes of each jury member, I licked my lips and sighed. “Yes, your honor. I want to ask them if they think they’d taste as sweet as Derek did.”

The gasps and angry shouting started, and that gavel slammed on the podium again to retain order in the courtroom.

I bit my tongue hard enough to draw blood to hide my smile at my triumph.

The beady-eyed judge looked at me with disgust as she spoke to a man in a red suit at the jury’s table. The same man then stood up, clearing his throat.

“Your honor, we, the jury for the People of Fernando, Texas, versus Ezello Maria Juave Lavita, find the defendant guilty of the crime committed against Derek Summers.”

I held my breath as the judge nodded and said, “Does the jury agree to the plea of insanity?”

The man from the jury was sweating, his bandana wadded up in his pocket, and his hand itching to reach for it. To his credit, he stilled his hand and looked me right in the eyes as he said, “Yes, your honor.”

The next day,I was sitting in the emptied diner for people visiting the prison, which was built next to the asylum. A large hallway with armed guards was the only way to get from one place to the other. A couple of inmates who looked like they were servers were moving around close to the kitchen, but other than that, the place appeared to be vacant. Maybe there were some cooks in the kitchen? I glanced back down at my lap, waiting for my new handler to show.

The department wanted him to review the final details with me before entering the asylum. I had on the proper ‘scrubs’ attire that the patients wore at Hospital Twelve because we needed to keep my cover intact.

Also, I knew this new guy wanted to make sure I had my ‘how to pretend to be a psychotic criminal’ persona down. It had been weird to have classes on being fit for this type of undercover work.

“Good evening. You must be Ezello.”Micah Quinn’s smile knocked me on my butt, and I blushed like an idiot.

The guy was a looker. Honestly, he was like a plastic doll who’d come to life with his perfect blonde hair, bright navy-blue eyes, and tall, muscular body. Could anyone want more in the physique department?I knew of him. He was a big-wig detective in the Special Victims Unit who had taken down one of the most notorious serial killers in Rochester—the Snow White Killer.

This killer had everyone fooled for years. It turned out it had been Rochester’s very own police chief behind all the murders. No one knew how exactly, but this guy Quinn was the one to unmask the killer and end his poisoning death spree. Meaning, Micah Quinn was super hot and smart.

I didn’t spy any wedding rings, and it made me feel kind of giddy that I was in a room with this man, even if the reason was to watch over me.I realized he had greeted me, but I was sitting in front of him, gawking at him with my tongue practically out.

Get it together.

“Uh, Hi! Sorry, I have had a crazy week with the trial and all. Speaking of, is it a good idea after my trial to give me any special treatment?”

Quinn smiled and sat across from me, opening up a briefcase. “I don’t like crowds, and I like the burgers here.”

Why would he go through all that trouble of clearing a cafeteria just for a burger?

“These are some files on individuals who have been institutionalized,” he continued and handed me a pile of papers with people who looked like they were meant to be housed there.

I read over some names and tried to memorize faces.

“Mary Lois. Accused and convicted of stalking, assault, and sexual deviance. Reported to have nymphomania.” I raised my brow. “People get sent to the mental rehabilitation house for having too much sex?”

Quinn laughed, a warm and light laugh like I expected.“That particular one got in bed with the wrong guy’s wife,” he mused.

“Oh, that sounds like a fun story.” I giggled. “Who did she screw?”

Micah mocked a look of horror on his face as he said, “The head of the entire police division.”

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