Page 1 of Psycho Saviors

1

SCARLET

Iclutched Kenny close, his small body a slight comfort amidst the tense situation.

We were still alive, so that was something.

Julian sat cuffed in the backseat next to me, his eyes burning holes into the men up front.

"So, you Russos think this is a great idea?" Julian mused, and I stroked Kenny in an attempt to keep him calm. I didn't need him panicking and for one of these guys to do something to him. It wasn’t until they’d gotten me into the vehicle that they’d thought better about not cuffing me, and had cuffed my hands before me so I could still hold onto Kenny, which I was grateful for.

"I think you should shut your mouth, Julian. If you know what's good for you," the passenger muttered, and I glanced at the driver. Tattooed hands held the steering wheel tight, and I wondered just who these Russos were. A rival family? That made the most sense in this situation.

"You know my brothers will gut you like fish for this. I take it my driver is dead?" Julian sniffed as he shifted in his seat. Having his hands cuffed behind him wouldn't be comfortable like this.

The passenger guy whipped his head around, nostrils flaring. "You're in no position to make threats, pretty boy. You should be more worried about what we're going to do to you." He pointed his handgun into the backseat, and I stiffened at the threat.

"Sounds like you're threatening me with a good time," Julian shot back cockily, unfazed by the weapon. Fucking insane.

"Enough," the driver barked as he glanced at us in the rear-view mirror. "We should've gagged you."

"Yeah, would've been smart. Tell me, how's Angelo planning for things to go here? Use me as a bartering chip? Strike a deal? Kill me and string me up to scare my family?”

“You talk a lot for a man with a gun on him,” the passenger said, jerking his gun upwards as if to make it more obvious he was threatening Julian.

“Certainly isn’t the first time,” Julian stated. “You compensating for something with that gun? Should’ve gotten a bigger one.”

At least he was keeping all the attention off of me, I’d take that.

“Stringing you up would be good, you guys have done that shit to us. You strung up Mark a few months back, remember? And the warehouse that just burned down, we know that was you, you pathetic fuck,” Mr. Compensating spat.

“Mark, right, yeah, no, I can’t claim that one. Cristian likes to do all that ripping from limbs stuff and stringing them up, you should know that. The warehouse, though, yeah, that was me. You really should stay in your lane, makes everything run much smoother.”

I just stared at Julian like he was a damn alien. Why was he provoking them? What was his end game here? Have them pull over and try to fight them with his hands cuffed? Was I supposed to fight them? How? With what? I could throw Kenny into the front seat and hope he’d go nuts in a flurry of claws and screeching, but I had no clue if he’d actually react that way.

“Shut your mouth or I’ll stitch it shut for ya,” Mr. Compensating snarled, and Julian’s jaw twitched, but he fell silent.

Even he knew when to not keep pressing. I doubted Cristian would’ve been the same.

“Who’s the bitch?” he added after a moment, his focus shifting to me.

Damn, here I was thinking I’d gone unnoticed for a few moments.

“Current toy, you can toss her if you like,” Julian said with a shrug, and my heart dropped.

Mr. Compensating narrowed his eyes, trailing them over me and settling on Kenny in my arms.

“Nah, you shielded her. She’s not just some broad,” he muttered after a moment, his mouth curling into a horrid smirk. “Looks like she’d be some fun.”

I swallowed hard, holding Kenny tighter. Of course Julian didn’t really give a shit about me, but still, it hurt that he’d so willingly cast me aside.

Then again, perhaps it was his way of trying to get me out of harm’s way by saying I was nothing important. Mr. Compensating was right. Julian had protected me, which was still playing on my mind.

Kenny meowed, pawing at my arms, and I stroked his head soothingly. "It's okay."

“Should throw that thing out the window though,” Mr. Compensating muttered before turning back around. “Fucking hate cats.”

“We wait for the boss,” the driver stated firmly, and Mr. Compensating just grunted.

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