“I didn’t think you were going to wake up,” she grins, like she’s already won.
She paces, gun swinging loosely in one hand. “I’ve doused the whole house. You almost missed the show.”
My chest tightens. Panic claws at my throat, but I force myself to breathe. I try to think, to find any weakness in her madness.
She kneels beside the car, fingers tracing the cold metal like she owns it. “This is just the beginning, Logan. Soon, the whole world will burn.”
She yanks the gag from my mouth, ripping it free like tearing off skin. Air rushes in, burning my throat.
“You all just left like I was fucking nothing!” she screams, eyes wild and furious, spit flying. “You don’t get a happy fucking ending, Logan!”
Her voice cracks, raw and desperate. Then, suddenly, she’s different—calm, almost giggling. Like the madness inside her just flipped a switch.
“Did you know Braden didn’t love me?” she whispers, eyes glittering with something dark and twisted. “I bet you did, didn’t you? He told you everything.”
Her smile curls bitter and broken. “No matter how hard I tried, I was never enough for him.”
She leans in, voice dropping low and deadly. “Thenyoukilled him.”
My heart stops.
“You let him take your car that afternoon. Why did you do that?”
Her gaze drills into mine, hungry for the answer she already knows.
“Did you know I tampered with the brakes? Did you know I was going to kill you?”
Her breath hitches, manic, mad.
“You did, didn’t you? Admit it!”
Her eyes blaze like fire, wild and unhinged.
I want to say something—anything—but my voice is gone. Trapped in the storm of her rage and madness.
“I didn’t know,” I choke out, voice ragged, barely more than a whisper. “I’d never hurt Braden. Never.”
Her eyes flash—hurt, fury, disbelief—all crashing into one manic wave.
“Lies!” she spits, stepping closer, gun still trembling in her hand. “You don’t get to say that. Not after what you did.”
My chest tightens, breath shallow. “Please… I loved him. He was my brother.”
She laughs—hysterical, bitter, like she’s battling a storm inside her own head.
“Love?” she sneers, her face twisted in a grotesque mockery of affection. “You don’t know the word. You’re just a slut. A fucking disgusting filthy whore. Love—” She spits the word like poison. “—You only know lust. You whispered to him, didn’t you? Told him I wasn’t enough. That I couldn’t be. But I am.Weare perfect for each other, Logan. You poisonous fucking cunt!”
The air shifts.
A thin curl of smoke snakes its way into the car—sharp and acrid. It sears my throat, burns my eyes. I cough hard, gagging, nearly choking. My wrists strain against the ties, as I twist, panic roaring through me.
Then it hits—the shrill piercing wail of the fire alarm. A scream of steel and fury that ricochets through the garage, tearing through the thickening air.
Lola doesn’t flinch. She just grins. Deranged. Gleeful.
“All this screaming and it’s not even yours yet,” She coos, tilting her head as if admiring her masterpiece. “Can’t wait for the embers to catch you, drag you down to Hell, Logan Dale. I can’t wait to hear your high note.” She giggles. “Aww, maybe I’ll record it. Send it to Mackayla. Her brother, gone… and now hismurderer, burning up in flames, singing all the way.” Her laughter is pure madness, twisted and hollow as the smoke detectors blare louder and louder.
A sudden whoosh. A smash. Glass, maybe? Something heavy hits the floor—debris? It knocks her sideways just enough that I feel one of the ties give slightly under the strain. If she takes a step back—just one step…
