Page 49 of Wicked Riddles & Bitter Heartbeats

I take a deep breath, stepping further into the bathroom until I’m standing in front of the large mirror on the wall, above the countertop and sink. From the corner of my eye, I see Lilah watching me from the doorway.

My gaze travels around the mirror, taking in every single crack.

One. Two. Three.

Violet punched the mirror three times. The center of the crack is the size of a female’s fist.What did she cover her hand with to not get any blood on the mirror?It’s the least of my concern, because she did use something or I would see blood here. There is red on the mirror, but there’s no mistaking it for blood. From a mile away you could tell it’s lipstick. The same shadeheused to make her wear, I’d assume.

She never disclosed the color to me, but it makes sense. When she finally opened up to me and told me all the heinous and vilethings Thomas was doing to her, she told me about the lipstick and how he would make her wear it because he liked seeing it smeared on his skin after.

I should have killed him then, but I was a scared kid who didn’t know a thing in the world. And not that my first kills were perfect, but I got lucky. I wouldn’t have gotten lucky then. Not any luckier than I already did.

If Violet hadn't started that fire, we’d both be in jail right now.

The number72is written all over the mirror in the red lipstick. It starts out calm on one side of the mirror but gets more frantic and messy as it goes.

Seventy-two. That’s the number of times he raped her before she killed him. This I know for a fact, because she made sure to stab him the same number of times. I’d walked in on number fifty-one. She looked up at me and smiled.

“Twenty-one to go,”she’d said, then went right back at it like she was coloring a picture and not gutting a full-grown man.

My stomach turns as I look around the room. It’s a bloodbath. A fucking mess. She’s getting frenzied. If I had to guess, I’d say there will be another kill tonight, maybe tomorrow. They’re getting closer together. All of this means she’s likely to get caught.

I have to find her before that happens.

“Atty?” Lilah says softly. I turn to face her, unsure of the emotions coursing through me. “Are you okay?”

Am I okay? Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?

“This was her.”

“You’re sure?”

I nod, looking back at the mirror.

“What does it mean?” Lilah asks.

I smirk, unable to hide the pride I feel over what Lilah is doing.

“Retribution.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Atticus

I’ve been off since visiting the crime scene a few weeks ago, and so Lilah suggested we wait on the plan to get my brother’s attention. I had to agree, if only because she kept drilling into me how important it is to have a clear head so we don’t get caught.

I don’t want to be without her, and so I agreed.

Getting caught didn’t matter much to me before. No, I didn’t want it to happen, but I didn’t have an actual reason as to why, other than not wanting to spend my life in jail, without all the amenities I’ve become used to. Now I have the best reason. The most important reason.

Being with Lilah.

We order take out from some fancy Indian place and we have it set up on the coffee table in the living room. I was neverallowed to eat anywhere but the dining room as a child, and so as an adult, it’s always what I did. Lilah is opening me up to new things. Eating dinner on the comfort of my couch is much nicer than the stiff wooden chairs at the dining table.

She’s put on some detestable movie about a sap who writes some girl he loves a letter a day, even though she ignores every single one of them. Why waste time? Just go kidnap her if it’s that serious.

“Can you hear this?” Lilah says, grabbing the remote.

“I can hear it just fine,” I say as I stab a piece of curry chicken.

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