Page 154 of Moth to a Flame

Regan is close. With her abuser.

My intuition whispers that he hasn’t violated her. He’s been too busy evading me and the authorities. The footage we had of him in convenient stores cemented that. He bought food and drinks instead of rope or zip ties. One minute there, then gone.

Removing her fingernails couldn’t have taken him more than a minute, tops. Especially when she was the one who initiated it.

I’m sure she did.

She won’t have to do any of it ever again.

The hunt is over.

There’s nowhere for him to hide.

Beverly confirmed that his van passed through the main street less than an hour ago. Regan’s breadcrumb is the final confirmation I needed to charge inside the cabin I see up ahead in the woods.

No guns blazing for me. No quick death for him.

I’ve had my duffel bag in the back of my car since a week ago. It’s slung over my shoulder now. Heavy with the shit I have inside. Laden with promises of violence.

Of slow, agonizing death.

Come save me. Come save me. Come save me.

“I’m coming, Regan,” I whisper to the cloudy skies.

No one’s here to see or hear me talking to myself.

I wouldn’t have given a shit either way. This barely contained anger makes it so I don’t care about any fucking thing.

I am not Landon anymore.

I am vengeance and wrath.

Before I crush Regan’s nail between my two thumbs, I shove it into the pocket of my coat. I won’t ruin any part of her.

Mine.

My boots crunch dried leaves beneath them as I stalk toward the small cabin. My heart beats furiously in its cage.

I’m not afraid of what I’ll find there.

I’m right on time. I’m right here and he hasn’t hurt her.

Come save me. Come save me. Come save me.

For once, I’m grateful for being my mother’s son. Obsessed. Possessed. Deranged and violent.

The shit I’m about to do to Lester…

A sane man wouldn’t have gone through with it. A man any less obsessed than me wouldn’t have had the stomach and conviction for it.

I am not sane. My obsession with Regan is so unhinged inside that it’s eating me alive.

Let it.

“Don’t come any closer.” Her voice. I don’t fall to my knees with relief. I break into a sprint, running for the door the fucker has left ajar.

“I’ve waited long enough,” he snarls. “You’ve been such a bitch on the way over here. Such a fucking cunt, mocking mysituation. No, no, no. Stop dragging your ugly ass to the corner. Won’t do you any good.”

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