Page 16 of Psychological War

I hated that I wanted his touch. I hated that somewhere deep down I wanted him. I was completely disgusted with myself. I was a murderer.

I shouldn’t imagine how strong he was, how tall, and well built. He worked out, you could definitely tell. He took my punch like it was a grain of salt, while most men would fall to the ground.

I remembered him standing there, his dark blue jeans, his black boots, and the black T-shirt straining against his muscles. I almost wanted to tell him he needed a bigger size. I couldn’t make out much of his tattoos in the dark, but I was keen on seeing detail. The right hand had half a sun around the wrist, with smaller ones, and a fire. Both arms had a ram's head. But they looked evil, with a triangle above them.

This man was dripping with sex, and just thinking about him had my legs tensing with the need to touch myself. I wanted to slip my hand between my legs, but I refused. I refused to give him power over the reactions of my body.

Ignoring everything that wanted to push into my brain, I showered quickly. I wouldn’t think about Zane, and I wouldn’t think about them. Not just yet.

8

Zane

“Whoa,whathappenedtoyou?” Killian asked as soon as I stepped into the kitchen. “Holy shit,” he muttered under his breath. Yeah, I knew I looked rough; the whole side of my face was bruised. That girl could pack a damn punch. For a tiny thing she sure as fuck was strong. Didn’t make much sense since she was nothing but skin and bone. But apparently there was muscle as well.

My head pounded from when she tackled me to the ground. But that was the least of my worries. I was more worried about why I hadn’t reacted. When was the last time I let someone get the drop on me? Four years ago, that’s when. When someone hit my knee with that bat and broke my fucking nose.

“Ran into the wall,” I mumbled. Walking around the island I headed to the fridge and pulled out a water bottle. What I really wanted was something stronger, but I still had work to do.

“You truly expect me to believe that?” Killian laughed, giving me a pointed look. Which only caused me to glare back at him. Killian was like a lie detector. I mean, I was good. I could tell when someone was lying. But I also knew how to lie, how to not have any tells. But Killian was a lie detector, and he was calling me out.

I grunted, finishing off my water bottle.

“I heard the basement hatch open and some loud noises. What’s going on?” he said, closing his computer. Shrugging my shoulders I grabbed another bottle of water. “Zane, stop lying.”

“Just a couple of men.”

“A couple of men,” he stated.

“Yeah, a couple of men.” I didn’t understand why he was asking me this. It was normal for me to do this. For me to go out on my own, it was all normal. So him questioning me was odd.

“Is there a reason you took them?”

I couldn’t tell him about the mystery girl. I couldn’t explain why I didn’t want him to know, or anyone for that matter. I didn’t know why, but something about her spoke to me. Spoke to me in a way that was deep, and it was weird. I didn’t know what was wrong with me.

“They attacked some random girl. I’m just in a mood.” I shrugged, trying my best to hide the lie. I mean, she was a random girl, but she was a mystery I wanted to solve, and not have the tech do it.

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you to it,” he mumbled getting up from the kitchen island and leaving me alone once again.

***

Making my way downstairs, I could hear muffled groans mixed with another set of yells. I smiled as I continued down listening to the panic of the men. Thankfully, the whole basement was completely soundproof. No one would be able to hear what I did down there.

The moment my boot hit the concrete the stench of piss hit my nose. I couldn’t believe they were already pissing themselves, and I hadn’t even started the real fun.

Opening the door at the bottom of the steps, I carefully closed it behind me. One of the men was tied to a chair in the middle of the concrete room, while the other I had chained up to the ceiling. His arms had to be hurting from the way he was hanging. There was one light on the ceiling, and it wasn’t very bright.

They attacked me.

Her words repeated in my head over and over again. I could only imagine why they attacked her. But I would find out everything, and I would find out why. I had to find out everything.

I just had to decide who to start with. Martin was the one who grabbed at her, brunette hair, broad shoulders, but not very large.

Walking over to the chair, Blondie began to thrash around. As though the binds around his wrist and ankles would give out. They wouldn’t.

Patting him on the head I ignored the cries escaping from his mouth. I walked around him to Martin by the wall. His head was down, eyes closed, but he wasn’t asleep. You could tell from his breathing. If he thought I would let him enjoy his “sleep” he was mistaken.

Martin would be first.

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