Page 50 of Soul of a Psycho

“Because it was an accident!”

“Right,” he scoffs.

“It was!” I actually stomp my foot. This has gone on long enough. “Now let her go.”

“No. If you’re too stupid to protect yourself, I’ll do it for you.”

He turns, cracking his neck, and panic explodes in my chest.

“It wasn’t her fault!” I shriek and latch onto his wrist. “It was Brittney. Brittney pushed her. That’s how I split my elbow. Cade, please. Let her go. We’re friends. If you want to hurt someone, hurt that red-headed bitch. Just let Ruby go!”

I’m surprised when his muscles beneath my grip soften, but nothing could prepare me for the murderous look in his eyes when he turns my way.

“Britney?” The name rolls off his tongue with a potent dose of poison.

I ignore him and use his distraction to my advantage. I’m able to pull his hand away from Ruby’s neck, and as I do, he stands and lets go of her mouth. She gasps as Cade paces into the center of the room.

“Are you okay?” I breathe and pull her against me. She nods and trembles in my arms. I rub her back and tuck her head under my chin, hoping my towel doesn’t fall.

“I should have handled her a long time ago,” Cade says, but he has his head down, talking to himself. “I wouldn’t put it past her,” he mumbles. “Fucking,fuck.I didn’t even consider her.”

“Get the knife,” Ruby whispers in my ear.

I eye the black hilt that is clenched in Cade’s death grip and tuck Ruby behind me. I think the worst is over, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t still feel uneasy, and I can imagine how it’s making Ruby feel.

“Cade. Give me the knife.” I step forward, putting a hand out.

He blinks and looks up like he’s just now noticing I’m here.

“What?”

“The knife.” I clap my hand open and closed, raising my chin.

His eyes dart from me to Ruby, and I step a little to the right to conceal her.

“I can’t.”

I narrow my eyes, absolutely sick of this bullshit. “What do you mean,you can’t?”

“She’s going—”

“Cade, I swear to god if you don’t give me that fucking knife I will never talk to you again.”

This seems to stir him, and I’m not sure if it’s a good thing. He braces the palm of his hand against his forehead and the blade slips between his hair. He takes a step back and then a step forward, his face screwing up in turmoil.

“But—” He finally looks at me.

“No.” I cut him off.

“Fine!” He yells, going from anguish to rage in blink, and throws the knife at my feet. “You want the rest?!” He reaches down and pulls up a pant leg, revealing another switchblade, this one lodged in his boot.

He throws that one at my feet too and then fists his hair. “What else do you want? You want my stash? You know whereit is. Take it. Have all of them.” He flings his arms out and steps forward.

On instinct, I back up, and he halts, blinking as if I’ve slapped him.

“Fuck.” He hangs his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He falls to his knees and tears begin to coat his lashes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sky.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

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