Page 45 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

Never mind—death to all men.

Chapter 7

Aran

LOYALTY

The beginning: Shackles—Day 5, hour 3

“You’re disgusting,” I groaned.

John’s powerful thighs took up the width of my bed as he knelt before me, making indecent gestures.

He raked a hand through his messy brown hair and smirked. He was clearly still Dr. Jekyll. Thank the sun god.

Then he punched me in the middle of my chest.

My heart temporarily flatlined, and I yelped as I fell backward.

John moved quickly and straddled my hips, the heat from his crotch burning where it pressed against my stomach.

His face hovered inches from mine.

“I’m your best friend,” he said, as his dark eyes glinted with an intense emotion. “You’re still the person I’ve trained and fought beside for months. Still the person I sat next to at meals. Still the weirdo who refuses to eat meat and chokes people in their sleep.” He stared at my mouth. “Never doubt that we’re besties.”

My heart burned with emotions.

It also burned from the giant hematoma on my sternum that his knuckles had caused.

“Okay,” I whispered.

John leaned closer and flashed a dimple. “Did I not promise you I’d dispose of a body if you asked me to?”

I sighed. “Yes. You did.”

His nose brushed against mine as he asked, “And did you not kill someone three days ago? Did I not dispose of them without asking questions?”

“You did,” I whispered. “I think? What actually happened to the body?”

Dark eyes glanced down at my lips. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Tell me.”

“Aran.” His lips hovered centimeters from mine, and I could taste his minty breath. “You can’t handle my secrets.”

“What do you mean?” I breathed into his mouth.

John straightened his wide shoulders and pulled away. “Don’t worry your cute little head.” He ruffled my curls aggressively. “My little depressed, angry Smurf.”

I forgot how to breathe.

He was kneeling atop me wantonly, but he was acting casual like it was perfectly acceptable for him to straddle me.

Was this normal friend behavior?

I’d always thought of John as a friend. The special kind that you snuggled in bed with and held on to for dear life as you drowned in the ocean for hours.

I’d grouped him in with Sadie, but there was a problem.

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