Sidetracked (Mindf*ck Series Book 2)

Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.

—Confucius

Two cops are sitting outside my house, guarding me, keeping me safe from the Boogeyman. Yes, I hear how ridiculous that sounds as well.

I have an entire hidden room with tons of information and surveillance shots of all my next victims. That hidden room is where I am now, as two guys hang out in their cruiser, being all kinds of conspicuous.

Do they not know how to keep a low profile?

And their windows are down. Have they never seen a horror movie? Windows down equal throats slashed.

I’m watching through my own surveillance cameras from my murder room, since this room has no windows. The cameras are only on the outside, and I put them up today for the purpose of keeping an eye on the cops.

Logan is pissing me off, not listening to reason. I don’t want cops here. Cops hinder my plan. Not that I can tell him that. He’s determined to keep me safe. I’m determined to slice and dice a serial killer who may or may not get spooked by the blues outside.

I also check out the monitor that is watching Anthony. My next victim. I’ve only been able to get two of my cameras installed so far. I’m going closer to home for him. It’s getting close to sprint time. I’ll have to get creative to continue torturing once I reach that sick, twisted town. The FBI will be all over me.

And my boyfriend has the cops watching my house. The house where I have all my murder supplies that I have to use. Cops that follow me to the store when I get milk. Obviously they can’t follow me and guard my kill zone for days on end while I torture people.

Stupid Boogeyman.

I wish I could castrate him. I wish I could dole out the true justice deserved by the ones he’s hurt. But I have to make it look like a stroke of luck.

Sighing, I head out of the secret room, move the empty bookcase back where it belongs to cover the hidden door. Then I lock the door to the actual room, concealing the room inside a room.

It’s all cloak and dagger right now. That’s what happens when you’re a serial killer dating a FBI profiler who hunts serial killers.

Somehow, my simple life got very complicated.

After about thirty minutes, I see a familiar SUV pull up, and I grin when Logan steps out, talking to the policeman nearest to the house. What I don’t like is the fact he has a guy and a girl with him. Because that means he’s not staying.

Walking out the front door, I measure the two unknowns, regarding them. The guy smiles genuinely at me, even offering me a small wave so much less awkward than the wave I gave Logan once upon a time.

The girl, however, doesn’t look too happy with what she sees. At least I’m wearing pants. I decided until the Boogeyman is gone, pants are a good idea.

Apparently all the girls on his team seem to have an issue with me, especially since this is the second one I’ve met and she’s regarding me with a scowl. Don’t these women know that it’s dangerous to piss off a highly trained killer?

Turning my gaze away from her, I refocus my attention on Logan as he walks toward me, his expression grim. His hair looks blonder in contrast to the standard black suit he wears on duty.

As soon as he reaches me, his hands are in my hair, surprising me as his lips come down on mine. I forget about the audience in my yard as I kiss him back, leaning against him as he slides a hand down my back, pulling me closer.

It’s not until a loud whistle sounds out that he breaks the kiss. The man he came with chuckles before whistling again and heads toward us as Logan sighs.

“Can we come in?” he asks.

I just nod, and he laces his fingers with mine as the whistler and the staring bitch come into my house and shut the door behind them. The girl looks around, as though she’s trying to get a read on me based on my minimum decorations.

“I’m so fucking sorry about this,” Logan says against my forehead as he places another kiss there.

“I think I’ll be fine, Logan. The cops are overkill, and very annoying. They park in plain sight, so it’s not like they’re doing much good.”

“He’ll avoid law enforcement,” the unknown guy chirps. “He wants to be free and able to taunt right now. He can’t risk being caught. He doesn’t know if there’s another cop inside or not.”

“Which is why I’m here,” Logan adds, looking down at me with a grimace.

“No,” I say adamantly. “I don’t want anyone in the house. Unless you’re volunteering.”

“Show some gratitude,” the girl chimes in, earning a glower from Logan. “These cops are here for your protection. Having someone in bed down the hall would be safer, and they’re going out of their way to provide that.”

I really don’t like her. Can I cut her? Just a little?

“Lisa, go sit in the car if you can’t shut your mouth,” Logan tells her, a bite to his tone that I haven’t heard before.

She glares at him, and I slowly put the pieces together. Bitterness. Lots of bitterness in her look.

It’s not hard to recognize a woman scorned.

Logan talks to her like he would an ex he was frustrated with, not a normal co-worker.

I really don’t like this situation right now.

And I might actually cut her. More than a little.

She drops to a chair instead of leaving, much to my disappointment, and Logan takes my hand, pulling me down the hallway to my bedroom. As soon as he shuts the door, I turn to face him, trying not to go all jealous crazy girl on him.

“You never mentioned you dated someone from your team,” I say calmly, like a total rational girl and not a cutting psycho.

“It was over a year ago, and completely unimportant.”

“She’s jealous.”

His eyes spark with humor.

“So are you. Glad to see I’m not the only one losing my mind in this relationship.”

His lips twitch, and I stifle my own stupid grin that tries to form in response. He can do that; dissolve my anger with barely any effort at all.

No one else has ever been able to accomplish that.

I toss my arms around the back of his neck, and he wraps his arms around my waist.

“Let someone sleep inside the house. I’d feel better knowing I had every angle covered. I’m going to be sleeping in my office for a few hours at a time at most. This case is priority above all else right now to my department, but you’re my priority.”

“No,” I say simply. No way am I risking a cop getting nosy in my house. “I don’t feel comfortable with a random stranger sleeping in my house. A badge doesn’t make him noble.”

His smile falters, and he cocks his head, confused.

“What?” I prompt.

“Nothing. It’s just…one time I made a mental note that you seemed trusting of me because I had a badge. I profiled you as not having an issue with law enforcement, meaning you’d never had any bad experiences with them.”

“And now I’m throwing you off?” I muse, then smile, trying to mask the flurry of emotions I don’t want him to accidentally see. “One day, I’ll tell you all there is about me. But no. I don’t trust men because they have a badge. Where I grew up, badges just meant people got away with more. It was a corrupt town.”

He brushes his hand over my cheek, and I lean into it, hating that I’ve said too much about my life as Victoria instead of Lana or Kennedy.

“Sorry. I’ll try to get some free time to come sleep here for an hour or two with you. Maybe you can tell me some of those past experiences soon.”

I shake my head, gripping his wrists. “Do your job. I’m a big girl. I stopped being scared of the Boogeyman by age five.” I smile to lighten the morbid joke, but he frowns.

“This is serious, Lana. If he got his hands on you—”

“I’ve had self-defense training. I have two guns. I also plan to run out the back door instead of up the stairs. We’re good. I can handle this.”

“If he gets his hands on you, there’s nothing you’ll be able to do.”

I can tell he’s getting nauseated just thinking of such an outcome. Little does he know…

“Okay,” I say, just to appease him. “Someone can stay inside. Someone you trust. I’m sure you’re friends with the local PD.”

The relief that washes over his face makes it worth all the million and one things that can go wrong. He genuinely cares about me. He’s terrified for me right now because a merciless killer might be after me.

The irony isn’t lost on me.

“Not friends, but I know several reputable guys who are definitely trustworthy,” he says on a quiet breath. “I’d never leave anyone inside I didn’t feel I could trust.”

I don’t tell him I’d just castrate them and nail their dicks to the wall if they tried anything. Instead, I let him feel as though I’m weak and need protection. Because right now, that’s how he needs to feel.

The truth is just too dark to overcome.

And I wonder what will happen if the truth ever comes to light.

He kisses me, tugging me to his body as he melts away all the concerns lingering in the back of my mind. For now, this is worth losing it all. It’s almost worth losing my revenge.

But the revenge isn’t just for me. Souls beyond the grave beg for a reckoning as well. Those souls need their peace.

It’s too soon when Logan pulls away, and I hold back the frustrated groan. “Be safe. I’ll be in and out as I can. I’ll need to see you with my own eyes to believe you’re really safe.”

“I won’t object to seeing you, but do your job. Don’t let him hurt someone else because you’re so focused on me. That’s what he wants.”

He thumbs my lower lip, staring at it for a moment. “Have I told you today that you’re perfect?”

I smile against his touch, even though it feels weighted. Perfection. He thinks I’m perfect. It’s so far from the truth, but I’ve told him that before.

“That girl?” I ask, deciding to get some answers before he leaves.

His grin only grows. “We dated a few months. She wanted a commitment. I was married to the job. She transferred to my department, and I broke things off with her because it’s against the rules to date within the department.”

That has me stiffening. Sheesh. When did I turn into a girl?

“But you’d still be together if she hadn’t transferred?”

Even I hear how pathetically clingy I sound.

But Logan, the bastard, grins broader. “No. It was just the easiest way to get the point across that it was over. You’re the first woman to make me wish I could skip work, Lana. You make me question my priorities and if it’s all really worth it.”

My stomach flutters with excitement.

“You know it’s worth it. You stop killers. You’re a hero.”

His smile slips, and he clears his throat. “I don’t always stop them in time. It seems like two spring up every time we take one down. And now this is happening. I put you at risk because of my job. Your life is sure as hell not worth it.”

I pull him down and kiss him again, and he grips me tightly, tugging me even closer. He lifts me with two hands on my ass, and I land on top of my dresser as he steps between my legs, still devouring my mouth.

When I moan, he swallows the sound, and then someone bangs on the door.

“We need to roll if we’re going to meet Elise and Leonard to deliver the adjustments to the profile!” the girl harps.

Definitely cutting her.

Logan doesn’t break the kiss. If anything, he kisses me harder, as though he’s assuring me she doesn’t matter as much as I do. As though nothing matters as much as I do.

It’s me who finally breaks the kiss, and his forehead rests against mine as we both take steadying breaths.

“Be careful,” I tell him softly. “Don’t worry about me. And you do make a difference.”

He groans before brushing his lips against mine again, and he tugs me off the dresser, threading our fingers together. The profiler ex is waiting in my living room when we rejoin them.

“Call Chief Harris and tell him to send one of the guys off my list,” Logan says to the guy profiler, as though he was just waiting for my permission.

The chick just watches us before finally turning and walking out. Logan runs his fingers along my cheek one more time before kissing me quickly and following them out.

The girl gets in the back of the SUV, and the guy gets in the front seat next to Logan, who takes the driver’s side. Not surprising. I’ve noticed he’s sort of a control freak. Not that I mind.

As he backs out, he honks the horn twice, and a stupid grin lights up my face. I remember my neighbor always honking as he pulled out, as though it was one last temporary goodbye to his wife.

Annnnd I’m back to being two steps away from that name tattoo on my ass.

After shutting the door, I groan, realizing I never asked him about his relationship with Hadley. Damn women. How many of them should I have to deal with?

I jog upstairs, head into my secret room, and touch the apple on my desk. It’s a wax apple, brilliantly red, and there are seven nails sticking out of it. Still many more to go.

Glancing around, I question how stupid it is to leave a murder room inside a house with a cop. Logan respects my privacy and would never snoop. But this guy? I don’t know anything about the guy coming to stay in here.

I really hope that hidden door stays hidden. I also hope the metal door with a combination lock is enough to keep a nosy cop out if the door doesn’t stay hidden.