Page 23 of Pretty Little Psycho

Riot steps in closer, invading my senses with his intoxicating scent. “And you’re a filthy little sinner who needs to repent.”

The tension between us is thick, fiery, electric. My heart beats out of control as we glare daggers at each other, our breaths mingling in the narrow space between our bodies.

“I don’t understand,” I cry. “I’ve done nothing to you.”

He drags his fingers up my chest and then wraps his hand around my neck. “You insult me by existing. Your very presence wrongs me. The blood pumping through your veins is blasphemy.”

Fuck. He’s talking about the Blackwells. I don’t flinch as his grip tightens. I hate myself for liking the way his cold hand feels around my throat. “You’re wrong. I’m not like them.”

Riot’s gaze lingers on my lips so long that I think he might kiss me. Which is crazy because I’m pretty sure he’d rather murder me. He finally looks up again. “I wish… No. All you Blackwells are the same.” He jerks his wrist and my head snaps forward. “You’re going to get what’s coming to you, Firecracker. The audacity of you to come here. You’re going to pay for what your family did to mine.”

That cursed fucking name. I have never wanted to take back something more in my life. I need to know what this is about.

As his hand slips away from my neck, I grab it. “I don’t think you want to hate me. Ask yourself why that is next time you try to ruin me.”

Riot snatches his hand away. “Watch your back, Firecracker. I’m coming for you.”

My stomach flips, and I’m not sure if it’s from fear or lust, or both. I want to kill him and fuck him. And I think that’s the only mutual thing we have in common.

Valentin

As I watch Maureen stalk over to Riot, I feel every muscle in my body tense. She’s a spoiled fucking brat that dangles her pussy between us like it’s the last drop of water in a barren desert. I should’ve let Zeke do what he wanted with her but for some vile reason, seeing his hands on her made my jaw tick. The thought of some douchebag soiling her before I do pisses me the fuck off. Zeke can have our fucking leftovers when we decide we’re done.

“She’s not like us, you know?” Libra leans against the bar, following my gaze across the room.

Our families are rich, controlling, and toxic as fuck. It’s all we know. I look at Libra. Not a single blonde hair is out of place on her head. With her elongated curves, full lips, and flawless skin, she’s stunning. But when I look in her eyes, I see the resemblance to Atlas, and I’m reminded that she’s like a fucking sister to me. If I look closer, I see the flaws. The arrogance and superficiality. Those full lips are pumped full of collagen. Everything about her is deliberate and curated. From her overpriced handbag to the designer dress that’s tight enough to cut off her air supply. But none of it can change the fact that she’s hollow inside. Just like the rest of us. Because money does buy happiness but it’s fleeting. We always need more.

“Maureen’s a Blackwell. She’s worse than us,” I retort.

Libra shakes her head. “I don’t know… something is off about her. I’ve partied with Draven Blackwell. He’s never mentioned anything about a cousin from Wickford Hollow. And she doesn’t seem to know anything about them.”

Women can be so cunning and yet so naïve at the same time. “It’s an act. I don’t know what she’s doing here, but I promise you I’ll find out. Keep your guard up around that one.”

Libra nods but she doesn’t look convinced as she lips her straw. “You never trust anyone, Val. Maybe you’re wrong about her.”

I’m fucking what? I clamp onto her wrist, and she almost drops her drink. “I noticed you haven’t sat down at all tonight, Libra. Your ass still hurt from that spanking you got?”

Her eyes well up for a second, but she blinks any sign of sadness away. “Fuck you, Val. Hope you enjoyed the show cause that’s the last time you’ll see that again.”

I snicker. “Unless you piss Riot off again. Which we both know is bound to happen. You just can’t help yourself.”

She slams her drink down on the bar. “Why are you like this? I’ve known you since birth and you just sat there and watched me get humiliated like it meant nothing.”

My gaze flickers back over to Maureen and Riot and a little twinge of jealousy rips through me. I want to be the one she throws her fury at. I sigh and let go of Libra’s wrist. “I don’t fucking care, Libra. Just because I’m friends with Atlas doesn’t mean I’m obligated to have any empathy for the rest of his family. You broke the rules and got punished. And you deserved every lashing that came your way.”

Her eyes narrow at me as she snatches her purse off the barstool. “Whatever. I’m out of here. This bar is boring me.”

Maybe if I was a different person, I’d feel some sort of remorse or compassion for her. But instead, I’m just annoyed. Girls like her expect the world to be handed to them on a silver platter. They take more than they deserve without lifting a finger. Riot, Atlas, and I keep everyone in their proper fucking place. If you mess up, there are consequences. Libra’s just sour she got caught for once. But that bitch has been trying to manipulate Riot since we were kids.

She is right about one thing, though. This place is boring as fuck. More than usual. I only came to appease Riot and Atlas, anyway. All these people… they’re pathetic sheep. We say jump and they ask, how high? The power doesn’t get me off the way it does Riot. Nor do I care for the attention that Atlas so desperately craves.

Fuck all that. I need something else to fuel me. Something more depraved. And I know just who can give me that. My gaze flickers back to Maureen. She’s stomping away from Riot toward the back door. Blood rushes to my cock, tingling and burning at the same time, reminding me of the poison that swirls through my veins.

I grab her purse, the one Libra was supposed to be watching, and follow her.

With every step, I move quietly and swiftly, careful not to alert her to my presence. She’s so close I can smell her, almost taste her on my tongue. An ache grows in my belly as I stalk her through the darkened hallway, past the bathrooms, and out the back door.

This urge to hunt and trap screams at me. It lives in my bones and drives me to the edge of madness. It’s been suffocating not having a worthy target. But now that Maureen has landed in Raven’s Gate, I can finally have a little fun.

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