Page 70 of Psycho Sinners

"So those brownies in the fridge..." Julian began, his tone nonchalant as he took a bite. "They're your special batch?" He directed the question to his brother.

Cristian snorted into his coffee mug. "Yeah, help yourself."

My brow furrowed at the memories of it all. Last night when he'd been in that childlike state, baking naked and playing with flour like a kid finger-painting. It was a whole other side of him, and my mind went to what Tyrone had said. I didn't know him, the real him and the old him.

Julian chuckled. "I think I'll pass. But thanks for the offer." He turned his attention to me. "How are your arms doing?"

I tensed, my gaze flickering briefly to Cristian. He seemed to stiffen as well, his playful demeanor fading. For a split second, I could have sworn I saw a flicker of remorse in those dark eyes before it vanished.

"They're fine," I muttered, focusing back on my plate. The egg yolks oozed richly across the english muffin.

Cristian set his fork down abruptly. "Actually, I need to head out for a bit. Thanks for breakfast, Jules."

He pushed back from the table and strode out of the dining room without a backwards glance. I watched him go, brow furrowed slightly. Was he feeling guilty about last night? That strange look he'd given me made me wonder. But I quickly shoved the thought aside - this was Cristian, after all. Guilt wasn't an emotion I imagined he experienced much. No, he was a no remorse, no guilt kind of guy. Just the same casual indifference majority of the time, or delight with his own wickedness.

But as he reached the elevator, he paused and glanced back at me, our eyes locking. For a split second, I could have sworn I saw a flicker of something in those dark depths. Regret? Shame? It was gone before I could read it, his expression hardening once more.

Then he was gone, leaving me alone with Julian and my swirling thoughts. I flexed my bandaged arm absently, recalling the entire fiasco, the knife, him pinning me to the window and fucking me then biting me. The whole thing was a bizarre nightmare, then with him patching me up and the whole baking thing last night. Cristian was a mind-fuck of a man, and I had no idea on what to think.

Julian was still watching me with that same intense scrutiny.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked again, and I gave a jerky nod, unable to meet his eyes this time.

"Mmm. Ty said Cris was rough with you, more-so than usual. Do you want me to look at your arm?" he offered, and I frowned at him.

"You guys are all so fucking confusing. He assaults me, does wicked things to me that are honestly inconceivable, and then he patches me up and wants me to bake with him. And you," I shook my head, "do…the shit you do, too."

His mouth curled at the way my voice dropped, the whole cupcake thing burning through my mind.

"We're not normal men, pyro. You knew that from the get-go."

"You're all fucking insane in one way or another."

"True," he didn't find the need to argue as he nodded, "but it comes with the business."

"That's what Tyrone said," I muttered. "Can you tell me about Tess? Cristian mentioned her, seems she messed him up."

"Nope, no can do. Not my story to tell," he said with a firm shake of his head.

"Can you tell me why Cristian is so fucking insane then? Is it just because of her, or was he dropped on his head or something?" I asked, my voice low as I stared at my now empty plate. The man could cook, I'd give him that.

Julian's face fell, something dark flickering across his eyes.

"My brother may be crazy to you, but he's the most loyal man I know, and you best not talk shit about him too much, princess," Julian warned. So they were both defensive of his antics. Why though?

"I need to go out for a few hours, I'll be back later. Don't burn the place down." He pushed away from the table, gathering up all the plates and dropping them in the sink before sauntering to the elevator.

I wanted to know why Cristian was the way he was. The more I knew, the more I could manage him; know how to behave to avoid his psychotic tendencies.

I spent the entire day cooped up in my room, drowning myself in mindless Netflix shows to numb my brain. Anything to distract me from the weirdness of this place, the twisted minds of the brothers who held me captive.

Hours ticked by as I binged episode after episode of a fantasy show, barely moving from the bed except for bathroom breaks. At some point, I'd heard Julian's return, his footsteps thudding past my door while he chatted on the phone. But I made no effort to emerge from my self-imposed isolation, the door remaining firmly closed between us.

I'd tried to google Cristian and Tess to no avail, only finding articles on the wicked, untouchable Silvestri family and the rumors around them. Murder, drug dealing, gun sales, and some mentions of human trafficking.

No wonder my captivity was not a bother to them.

As evening fell, the shadows lengthening across the room, a gnawing hunger finally roused me from the bed. I realized I hadn't eaten since the eggs benedict that morning, save for a snack around lunchtime. My stomach grumbled insistently, demanding sustenance.

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