Page 50 of Insane Obsession

“He’s afraid of you, did you know that? Terrified,” Castor points the knife in front of him, my own heart feeling as if he cut right through it. He’s right. Ever since that kiss I shared with David, the public outing that led to so much disgrace, my life has been ruled by bullies. Perhaps that’s why I’ve always felt so close to Laura DiSanti because she was tormented, even after death.

David shrugs. “It’s because he’s a loser. I should never have kissed him.”

“You’re right about that,” Bran nods.

“Listen, he is not who you think he is. To me, he was a mistake.”

“Because after you tasted him once, you couldn’t forget him,” Castor adds. “I get it.”

I expect David to laugh it off. I expect him to swear at Castor. Instead, he just stands there while the twins walk in on him.

“What we don’t get is why you made his life hell,” Bran adds. “Although we are grateful you did. Because if you hadn’t been such a complete ass, he would have never gotten over you. You know what?”

David lifts his gaze to meet Bran’s.

“Finn would have been the best fucking thing that would have ever happened in your life,” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head dramatically. “Not that it matters anymore.”

“All those plans…” Bran snaps his fingers. “Poof. Gone.”

“Why?” David’s shoulders tense.

Both their smiles widen, bringing a deranged glow to their handsome features.

“Because you’re going to die,” Bran says sweetly.

Castor lifts his knife, smiling when David recoils. “Don’t worry. I’m an expert.”

“How much do you want?” David begs. “I have money. I can give you everything you want. I can give Finn everything he needs. All the apologies in the world. And more money than he’ll ever be able to spend.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got that covered,” Bran says. He looks around him and signs. “Nah, unfortunately for you, this is where it ends. Any last, famous words?”

Castor chuckles, then swings his knife in the air. It’s just for show, even I can tell, but David’s too afraid to take the risk. He jumps back with a loud yelp and crashes against the wall.

“Hang on, don’t go too fast,” Bran starts opening the windows. “There. Now you can choose.” He looks outside. “Seven seconds, are you sure?”

“Excruciatingly, slow seconds,” Castor adds.

“If you jump, you will die. If you’re lucky, you live. Although maybe—” Bran turns back to David. “It’s better if he didn’t survive that fall.”

“Or?” David stammers. “Is there another way out of here?”

“Out of your life, you mean?” Castor smiles and lifts his knife. “There is.”

“No!” David cries. He runs back to the door, where Bran pushes him back into the room. His chuckle fills the inky-black space.

My eyes are glued to the horrifying scene. And I realize they really are psychopaths. I watch their faces, cut out of marble, their perfect features as they taunt and laugh. There’s no empathy. No remorse. There’s only cruel wickedness—the game.

A game they will win.

My hand furiously strokes my cock, and I swallow, throat dry. My moans are a mere rasp when I feel my balls draw up.

They might be crazy, but I am their freak.

“Die, David, die,” Castor slowly whispers. This time, he isn’t joking around when he holds up the knife. The blade slashes through David’s upper arm, making him howl in pain.

Die, David, die.

“Please!”

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