Page 18 of Pretty Little Psycho

“Atlas, promise me. Say it.”

I scoot off the bed, grab a towel, and clean off my dick before putting my jeans back on. “I promise. For now.”

He sighs. “I heard you earlier with the raven. Don’t let Riot hear you talk like that.”

I pocket the rest of the vial and go to my closet. “Yeah, whatever, Val.” I feel like I’m about to lose it. My hands tremble as I push through my designer clothes, searching for my favorite black cashmere sweater. The comedown from the poison always hits me harder after I cum. “Riot is fooling himself if he thinks he’ll be satisfied with Maureen Blackwell just being our toy. She’s his firecracker from Wickford Hollow.”

Valentin reaches past me and grabs the sweater I’m looking for. “That was before he knew her last name. The fact that he felt something for her in that bathroom makes him even angrier.”

I shrug. “Whatever.”

He places a hand on my shoulder. “Careful, Atlas. Remember what my father taught us about girls like her?”

How could I forget? I spent every summer with Valentin and his family at their country estate. I learned quickly that his father, Laurent Erebus, is a scary motherfucker.

“If they don’t comply, then they must be silenced,” I repeat his father’s cryptic words through gritted teeth.

“Thatta, boy.” He pats me on the back so hard, it would have made a smaller man topple forward. But I’m six-foot-four and two-hundred pounds of solid muscle. Not a fucking ounce of body fat on me. So I don’t budge an inch.

I hear the flapping of wings just as the raven flies back onto my window ledge and squawks. The lingering poison in my veins surges. I pull on my sweater before pocketing a few more vials of some of the other special blends I made earlier.

“You heading over to Swallow with me?” I ask, hoping he isn’t. He and Riot are my best friends but sometimes I need a fucking break from the brooding.

He winks. “I’ll meet you there. Gotta handle a couple of things first.”

“You mean jerk off in your car,” I tease.

He feigns a look of horror. “I’m offended. Mary Shelley is not just a car. And you know I would never soil the interior with my cum… I’m going to jerk off next to my baby.”

I burst out laughing. “You’re a fucking freak, bro.”

Valentin palms my dick through my pants. “As are you. That’s why we’re friends with benefits.”

I grab my leather jacket and head for the door. “Nah, we’re only friends cause our parents made us.”

Valentin snickers. “You can go fuck yourself next time.”

I shoot him a grin. “I’m too pretty to fuck alone. Make sure you lock up before you leave.”

There are only two people I trust to be in my room when I’m not here—Riot and Valentin.

He gives me a half-ass salute before I turn to leave. Fucking Valentin. He’s one of the smartest people I know. Loyal to the bone. He would do anything for me and Riot. But his father’s ferociousness simmers through him. He lacks empathy and compassion for everyone. Even us. It’s just who he is.

I’m greeted by a few initiates as I trot down the stairs, but I barely look up. Nocturnus House is like a game to them. A club that everyone wants to belong to. For me, Riot, and Valentin, it’s so much more. I have zero interest in making small talk with any of these wannabe frat boys. I fly past them and out the front door, heading in the direction of the campus bar.

There’s only one person who I want to get to know this year. Maureen Blackwell. Fuck, when I had my fingers down her throat, I expected her to choke. But that hot little firecracker took it so fucking well. I’m getting hard just thinking about it.

I want to make her scream and cum and squirt all over the fucking place. She’s just as much mine and Valentin’s now as she is Riot’s. That sweet little pussy of hers has no fucking idea what the hell she’s in for. But she will real soon.

Swallow is already buzzing with students by the time I get there. A huge grin spreads across my face as I glance through the floor-to-ceiling windows and spot our little firecracker inside. Once a party girl, always a party girl.

I go in to get a closer look and damn… She’s dressed to fucking kill. Perched at the bar in a short black mini-skirt, fishnet stockings, stiletto heels, and a black off-the-shoulder crop top, she stirs her whiskey old fashioned with one of her pointy black fingernails. Her dark brown hair is down across her shoulders and practically begging to be wrapped around my wrist.

I start forward then stop as soon as I see who she’s with. Villette Crane. She’s not exactly an enemy but she isn’t a friend either. The Cranes are neutral in the ongoing feud between the Graves and the Blackwells. But if Villette is cozying up to Maureen… Riot is going to lose his shit. He’ll behave but only to avoid another brawl with her brother Bones. That motherfucker is a lunatic. And that’s saying a lot coming from me. We could handle him if we had to, but Villette isn’t worth the blood and sweat.

I scan the room for Riot but don’t see him. Fuck it. I could give a rat’s ass about the feud or the Cranes. I wanna go play with our new toy.

Maureen’s eyes widen when she spots me walking toward her. I notice her crossed thighs clench on the bar stool. That’s right, Firecracker. I knew you fucking liked my fingers in your mouth.

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