Page 107 of My Girl

But that’s not a mistake anymore.

When Ned finally stops moving, I stand, lifting off of him. I look down at the corpse. A shell of a man. Everything good and pure and loving in this world. A man I should want to be with. Someone my mother would have loved.

Someone my father sees right through.

Someone I knew would never satisfy me.

I lick my lips, then check my phone again. I need to get rid of the body.

I’ll ask my father for help.

Chapter34

Crave

Rae drivesthrough the mall’s parking lot, then stops her car outside of the Galloway House. She’ll come to me soon.

I turn off the mall’s surveillance footage; Ned hasn’t changed the password yet. He probably never will.

About an hour later, there’s a knock on my door. I look through the peephole.

Rae stands with her arms crossed over her chest.

I open the door. She glares at me as if I owe her an apology. Maybe under other circumstances, I do. Right now, I don’t speak a word. I want to hear whatshehas to say for herself.

“What’s your name?” she asks. “Your real name? The one given to you at birth?”

I keep my gaze steady. Her lips pull back into a scowl.

“You don’t call. You don’t text,” she says. “You push yourself into my life, and then you act like I don’t exist. Do you know how annoying that is?”

She fidgets, and it’s like I’m wearing a mask again. Hiding my reactions. Not giving her any clues as to what I’m thinking.

I’ll never be like her conquests. She will never be able to manipulate me like them. I’ll always be in control.

She turns away from me, her cheeks tinted pink.

“I need your help.” She lifts her shoulders. “It’s Ned.”

A grin spreads across my face. She doesn’t have to explain a thing.

“That’s my girl,” I say.

She wrinkles her nose, her cheeks flushing briefly before returning to their normal color.

“You know how fucked up that is coming from you?” she huffs in a forced angry tone. The upper corners of her mouth lift, showing that she loves hearing me say it. “You’re my father. Myestrangedfather. You can’t act like you’re proud of me.”

I widen my stance. I’m not proud of her. I’m proud of myself. For finally getting my daughter to kill someone. For getting exactly what I wanted out of this experiment.

I angle my head toward my truck in the driveway.

“Get in,” I say.

I don’t tell her my plan. We drive to Vegas, and I let Rae mull over the possibilities in silence. And when we find a red-haired, tan-skinned girl, I send Rae over to her at the bar.

The two girls get drunk, buying each other shots. My girl likes playing with her prey as much as I do. I watch from the comfort of one of the slot machines, biding my time.

Rae grabs the look-alike’s arm. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s go to a strip club. My boyfriend will take us.”