Richie smirked. He doubted that Melinda and Jason were paying much attention to anything other than each other at the moment.Richie saw Heather pause by the gate and reach into her pocket for something. His eyes widened as he saw it was a camera, which she used to take a few pictures of the outside of the house.Oh, this is getting fucking kinky, now, Richie thought.He watched Heather head up the path and into the house. Richie just grinned to himself and waited for the fireworks to start.The bedroom was again made to look like Melinda's dream room, though this time the bed was wider to accommodate the two of them better, and the stuffed toys were absent. The window was wider and deeper, letting in more light, making the room very bright and cheerful. It was exactly what Melinda wanted.Despite how excited she was, she hesitated at first to remove her clothes in front of him, still feeling too self-conscious about her own body. Jason solved her dilemma immediately. He began to utter. She’d been at her highest point. And then she’d brought it all down. She realized that so much of her suffering was of her own making. Something was wrong with her brain. A crossed wire. A self-destructive gene. She simply couldn’t deal with life when it presented her with nothing but an easy path. She got bored and antsy, and before long, she would engage her pathological need to push the envelope and feel the sizzle of a new rush. She dipped her head lower and cried loudly into her knees as she replayed the previous night in the club. It felt like a different girl she was watching in her memories. Yes, she had been drunk but that had only served to encourage the thing that she’d already become. The reckless thrill-seeker with selective tunnel vision. She had blocked out everyone and everything around her so that she could focus on her next fix. And in this case, it had been her strange imaginary battle with Erica. She understood now that Tyler had always been secondary. She had.
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