Page 44 of Pretty Little Psycho

I scan the front drive one more time to make sure no one’s watching before dipping my head under the steering wheel. One of the perks of being the Sheriff’s daughter is you learn all kinds of crazy criminal shit at an early age. Hot wiring a car is one of them.

I yank on the wires, fuse them together, and after a few sparks, the engine roars to life. Yes! I almost have a fucking orgasm I’m so happy.

The black leather seats are smooth against my thighs. It feels dangerous and luxurious at the same time. I roll the window down and howl into the night as I step on the gas. “Thanks for the new car, fuckers!” Before I pull out onto the road, I stick my middle finger out the window at Nocturnus House.

I can’t stop laughing. I feel like the real me tonight. The me I thought I’d lost here. Which is going to come in handy for phase two. Valentin’s car hugs the road like a glove as I take the turns way too fast. Adrenaline courses through my veins like the wind whipping through my hair.

I follow the route that Villette mapped out for me and head into town. It’s a few miles away from school so that gives me enough time and distance to really piss them off before I’m caught.

The tiny dive bar, Angel’s Trumpet, is packed with people when I walk in. The men are less refined here. Not rich and polished like the ones at Tenebrose. But these are the kind of guys I’m used to—small-town bad boys who like to drink beer, smoke weed, and talk shit. They also like to buy pretty girls drinks.

Dressed in a black crop top and matching mini skirt, it doesn’t take long to grab more than a few guys’ attention. My long wavy hair swishes back and forth as I prance over to the bar. I notice how their gazes follow the length of my body, ogling my tattoos and curves. And it gives me a rush I haven’t felt in a long time. Riot, Atlas, and Valentin are going to learn tonight that no one owns me. Especially not them.

Although, I can’t lie that a part of me almost ditched this whole plan to go to the party with Libra. This obsession I have with them is fucking me up. This need I have to fuel their hate and their desire… It’s fucking toxic. Which is exactly why I have to resist it.

I order a shot of tequila, but before I can reach for my wallet, a tall scruffy biker-looking dude leans over and throws a wad of one-dollar bills on the bar. He’s muscular and smells like old leather. “I got this one, darlin’.”

I raise my glass to his. “Cheers to that.”

After a couple more shots, I learn that his name is Willie, but his friends call him Spade. I only half-listen as he rambles on about his self-proclaimed poker skills.

“Wanna take a picture with me, Spade?”

I can’t imagine it took long for Libra to bitch to the guys that I left her there. They have to know that Valentin’s car is gone too. Time to drive the final nail in the coffin.

“With our clothes on or off?” Spade drawls.

I fight back the nausea and fake a giggle. “Smile for the camera.”

He throws his arm around me while I snap a selfie of us. I quickly text it to Valentin with the caption: Getting my lips wet so I can blow better.

I chuckle to myself as I see the typing bubbles appear, then disappear, and then appear again. I can only imagine the look on his face right now.

“Wanna get out of here, beautiful?” I flinch as Spade rests his hand on my thigh.

Time to go.

“Sorry, but I have an early morning. Thanks for the drinks and the conversation.” I stand up so abruptly, all the blood and booze rush to my head. I stumble back but catch myself on the chair.

“Come on now. Let’s go back to my place and have some more drinks.” He licks his lips as his gaze lands on my bare midriff.

I shake my head as I angle for the door. “Maybe next time, Spade. I really have to go.”

The wind chills my skin as I step outside of the toasty bar. I stumble again and almost twist my ankle. Fuck. I’m more buzzed than I’d planned to be. I also regret parking in that desolate garage down the street. I was so set on hiding Valentin’s car, that I didn’t think about how fucking dark and creepy it is.

I hear footsteps behind me, so I pick up my pace, my nerves on edge. I tuck my hand inside my purse and feel around for my knife, exhaling as soon as I have the hilt tucked inside my palm.

The parking garage looks even darker on my way back in. I climb the stairs two at a time, desperate to get to Valentin’s car before the man stalking me catches up. I’m sure it’s Spade from the bar, but I can’t be certain. Either way, I need to get away from whomever it is. Nothing good happens this late at night in a sketchy part of town.

As I get closer to the car, the footsteps grow louder behind me. Spade lets out a low whistle. “Slow down, beautiful. You forgot to give me a goodnight kiss,” he calls out.

Fuck. My stomach knots. I break out into a jog to get to the car. And so does he to get to me.

Before I can open the car, Spade grabs the back of my neck, spins me around, and pins me to the hood. My purse spills to the ground and lands out of my reach.

“Get the fuck off me,” I yell.

He grins as he leans over me. “I bought you drinks. The least you can give me is a little kiss.”

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