Page 100 of Little Psycho

He sits on the couch, his shirt unbuttoned and pants unzipped, caught off guard as I straddle his lap, knife poised over his skin.Fear flickers in his glassy, bloodshot eyes, and the pungent odor of whiskey mixes with his labored breaths, twisting my stomach in knots.

“You set me up,” he spits, glaring at me, his words slightly slurred.

I can’t help but smile, nodding in agreement.“I did, and honestly, you can’t say you didn’t deserve it.Not after all those times you came to my fucking house to bid on me.”

The memories of those parties make my skin crawl, and Stewart’s face is a grim reminder of the torment I endured under my parents roof.

“Sure, I bid on you, but I never got to take you home,” he says, as if that somehow makes everything alright, expecting me to forgive him and let it go.

But forgiveness is not in my plans for tonight or ever, for that matter.And I sure as fuck won’t let it or him go.Even though Stewart’s hands are clean—his name is absent from my list—I’ve been trailing him too, only to discover his secret meetings with the fathers of my friends...It can only mean one thing.

“What are they plotting now?”I demand, my patience wearing thin.

When he remains silent, I press the edge of the blade into his wrinkled skin, drawing it slowly across the front of his throat and making sure to create a decent slice without inflicting serious harm.He gasps, instinctively placing his hand over the wound to stop the bleeding, but I smack it away, ready to strike again.

“Fuck!Wait, stop!”he begs, desperation creeping into both his words and his gaze—much like my own pleas on all those dreadful nights spent helpless and used by strangers for their own sick pleasure.

“Start talking, or I swear to God, I’ll fucking kill you.You’re testing my goddamn patience, Stewart, and I have other places to be.”I feign a yawn, pretending to lose interest.

“They know it’s you!”he cries, blood trickling down his chest, staining his crisp white shirt.“Moretti, Gray, and Blacksburg—they know you’ve been at their boys’ house, and they’re planning to catch you off guard.”His eyes widen with fear as they glisten with unshed tears, my blood feeling like molten lava coursing through my veins.

“And what, they think they can actually stop me?”I laugh, playfully grinding against him for the thrill of it.

“Your parents paid them to find you and bring you home.This is bigger than just your friend’s fathers, Calista.You’re more wanted than you realize, and half the community is after you.”

The realization crashes over me like a wave of ice water, numbing my senses.My grip tightens on the knife, the weight of Stewart’s words settling into the pit of my stomach.They want me back.I knew that, but even so, the thought is fucking sickening.

“I'm not ever going fucking back,” I say, my voice dangerously low.“Not to them, not to anyone.Not after what they did to me for fucking years.”

“Then you’re playing a foolish game, little girl.”Stewart manages to rasp, each word stained by the pain and fear that festers between us.“You think you can take on the entire community alone?They’re not just men—they’re organized, powerful, and corrupt, sweetheart.They’ll fucking break you.”

“Break me?”I echo, amused.“I have friends, people who will stand by me and fight foe me.And not only that, but I have my determination, my strength, and my fucking taste for revenge, and besides, I’m already fucking broken.”

“Do they know the truth, your friends?What your parents are capable of?”His voice trembles slightly, betraying his own fear.“You think those boys are going to risk their lives for you?They’ll turn on you the moment shit gets too dangerous, just like their fathers.Weren’t they at your parties too?”He smirks, trying to get under my skin.

My blood turns to ice in my veins.A slight sense of doubt snakes through my mind, weaving a complex tapestry of fear and betrayal.Would they?“They wouldn’t.They know what they’re like,” I assure him, but it feels like I’m trying to reassure myself instead.

“Do they?”His sadistic smirk creeps back onto his face, dark and twisted like the very fabric of our lives.“Maybe they haven’t told you everything—like the conversation we had, the plans laid out in the open.You’re not the only pawn on the chessboard.”He speaks in riddles, confusing me and fucking with my mental state.

“Don’t listen to him, Cali,” Addy whispers in my ear, suddenly appearing, right when I’m on the verge of a mental break.

I shake my head, trying to get the voices bombarding my mind to quit..“Stop!Just stop talking!”I press the blade a little deeper into his throat, enjoying the way his breathing quickens and the way he flinches under my intentions.“Tell me how the fuck to stop them.”

“The only way to stop them,” he wheezes, clutching his throat.“Is to put an end to the source.”He shoots me a knowing look before continuing.“Your parents will not stop hunting you until you’re back in their grasp; you’re their puppet on a string, little girl.You want to get out of this fucking mess unscathed?You need to stopthem.”

“Stop them?”I repeat, zoning in and out as darkness seeps into the depths of my mind, body, and soul.“You’ve got to be fucking kidding.You want me to walk back into the lion’s den and just...what, hope for the fucking best?”

“It’s not a choice, Calista; it’s called survival,” he gasps, a flicker of defiance returning to his cunning gaze.“Think, little girl—it’s either face them and come out on top, or keep running, waiting for the moment they’ll strike when you least expect it.You have to turn the tables on them before they turn them on you… and they’re fucking closer than you think.”

“Stop fucking calling me little girl,” I seethe, extreme rage bubbling to the surface.

Out of nowhere, I close my fist, balling it tightly, and swing hard, connecting with the front of his nose.The sound of a crack echoes in my ears, and blood pours down his face instantly, somewhat making me feel a little calmer.But I can feel the walls closing in—the pressure tightening around me—pushing me toward that fateful decision.

I lean closer, lowering my voice to a whisper that only he can hear.“And how exactly do I do that?”

Stewart’s eyes flicker; he realizes he’s onto something, that he might just have a hold on me after all.“I can help you, but you can’t kill me yet.”

“Why not?”I scoff, rolling my eyes.

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