Faith tried to push herself up to a standing position, but another wave of nausea took her, and she dropped back down to her knee. “You’re insane,” she said.
“And so are you,” he replied, “and so, so hurt after your encounter with Jethro. And so, so impressionable. And so, so easy to fool. I have to say, I hoped you would have more time to heal before we finally faced off directly. I feel that in your prime, you could have presented a real challenge.”
“You’re delusional,” she croaked.
“Am I? Faith, you’ve been my puppet for the past year. I’ve been leading you in circles, and you never even realized it. You told me everything I needed to know to stay away from the authorities and continue my work without any fear of molestation. Those deaths, Faith? They’re on you.”
Faith struggled to her feet, but a wave of dizziness took her when she stood, and she fell back against the wall. “You’re a piece of shit,” she said, once more hating how whiny she sounded.
“I convinced you that your very own supervisor was the Copycat Killer. I convinced yourdog!”
Turk growled again, but this time all Dr. West had to do was lift the can of ammonia and he quieted.
Faith gathered her breath, allowing him to monologue while she regained her strength. Her vision slowly but surely improved as well. If she could hold on for a few more minutes, she could disarm him and bring him down.
“I even used you to harass my ex-wife!” He laughed at that. “God, that poor little bitch. She must have been scared stiff of you! Did she stutter when you confronted her?”
“She says Michael’s better than you,” Faith taunted, trying to keep him talking. “Says he makes you look like a chump.”
“Has that actually worked for you before?” he asked incredulously. “Attacking someone’s manhood?”
“You’d be surprised,” she said drily.
He shook his head. “Faith, I really expected more from you. I thought that you would be a challenge. I thought you’d be worth all the effort I’ve put into you. To see you now, like this… well, I have to believe that you were different before and that Jethro just ruined you. Otherwise, I’ve just been completely wrong about you.”
“What happened to you?” she asked. For a moment, her anger receded, replaced by genuine bafflement. “What did you suffer that you turned into this?"
He met her eyes, and she noted with satisfaction that her vision had cleared enough for her to realize that. His expression blanked, as devoid of emotion as a calculator.
“I didn’t become anything,” he said. “I was born like this. When I was twelve years old, I strangled my cousin to death in her sleep. My aunt thought she had choked on a toy. I’ve killed over sixty people, Faith. I’ve been doing it since long before Jethro Trammell ever wondered what it would be like to try his knife on a person instead of a pig.”
Faith took these revelations in stride. It was very possible that he was lying to her right now and that none of what he was telling her was true. If it was, then it meant that he was somehow even more dangerous and evil than she believed.
“Sometimes there’s no reason, Faith. Sometimes it doesn’t make sense. Sometimes it’s no one’s fault. Sometimes, the monsters get you.”
He smiled at her, and his sickly, distended grin was the same manic smile that Jethro Trammell wore when he severed the tendons behind her knees and laughed in glee at her screams. She saw red and rushed at him again.
He lifted the can of ammonia, but she swiped at it and knocked it out of his hand. He brought his fist up, this time toward her jaw, but she slipped the punch and landed a strike of her own to his midsection.
He grunted and stumbled backward. The moment there was separation between him and Faith, Turk leapt at him.
Dr. West moved swiftly, not fast enough to avoid Turk but fast enough to bring his arm in between his throat and Turk’s snapping jaws. Faith noted that Turk had gone for the throat and not the leg or shoulder as he was trained to do. Maybe he also wanted justice to be served without leaving it in the hands of judges and easily manipulated juries.
“Hold him, Turk!” she cried, rushing for her weapon.
She heard a crash and a yelp and knew that Dr. West had thrown Turk off of him. She cursed but didn’t turn, knowing that getting to her handgun was her best chance.
She dove for the handgun. Her fingers closed around the weapon and she continued the dive, rolling to her feet and spinning around.
Dr. West was right on top of her. Before she could pull the trigger, he grabbed her wrist in both of his hands and wrenched it hard. She felt a snap and cried out, releasing the weapon. He kicked it away and easily dodged the wild left hook she threw.
Turk leaped at him again, but he planted himself and drove his knee upwards. It connected with the side of Turk's head with a loud crack. The dog hit the ground and lay still, eyes glazed over.
“Turk!” Faith cried.
She put her right hand down to lift herself, then cried out as a lightning bolt of pain shot through her wrist. She collapsed to the floor, weeping with pain and frustration, and turned hateful eyes up to Dr. West. "I'm going to kill you," she hissed through her teeth.
He smiled at her. “That’s good, Faith. Honesty is critical to mental health. You’re making wonderful progress.”
