Page 50 of Psycho Boys

She leans in, her eyes blazing, and kisses me, her tongue a playful, urgent dance against mine. It's a tantalizing tease, a promise of what's to come after our mission is complete.

I meet her kiss with equal fervor, our tongues entwine, our eyes locked, wide the fuck open. She smiles, sucking gently on my tongue before pulling away, licking my lingering saliva from her lips, her gaze unwavering.

"What is it, my little psycho?" I murmur, approaching the neon-lit living room, its buzzing hum filling the air.

"Just a taste of things to come," she winks, laughing as she hops from my arms, smoothing her crop top and adjusting her black jeans.

"You tease," I growl, playfully slapping her ass as she skips over to Five, settling onto his lap.

"You two seem... happy." Five chuckles, nuzzling her neck, eliciting a shiver from her entire body.

I catch Killian's eye roll and Dom's scoff—their discomfort with sharing Calista is obvious. But I'm at peace. Calista and I share an unbreakable bond, a fact that seems to escape their jealous glances.

"Happy is an understatement. Tonight ends my fucking misery," I declare, ready to move. "Who's in, who's out?"

"Staying put," Dom announces, draining a Bud Light with practiced ease.

"Same here. We'll be here if things go south, and we'll come get you," Five adds casually, earning a pleased smirk from Killian.

"I'm in. After what he did to both of us, I want a piece of the bastard," Killian sneers, grabbing his pistol and mask.

"Good. Let's fucking go," I say impatiently, eager to end this chapter of terror once and for all.

My hands itch, knowing the chain is in the trunk of my car, the same one my father is going to be bound with as I drag his ass along the pavement with it attached to my car. And I'm going to drive as fast as fucking possible, hoping the road will skin his ass alive.

Calista rises from Five's lap and kisses Dom, a lingering, intimate kiss as if it were their last one—ever. A wave of apprehension washes over me. What if things go wrong? My heart pounds, my hands grow clammy, my carefully constructed bravery crumbling right before my eyes.

"Ash, come on," Calista urges, pulling me from my fear.

I nod, grabbing my mask and keys, and silently follow her and Killian out the door.

This is it.

The night airhangs heavy with the promise of violence. The city lights blur into streaks as we speed towards my father's secluded mansion, the engine a low growl mirroring the eager beast within me. Killian silently sits beside Calista, leaving the front passenger seat for my chain, his hand resting casually on his pistol.

The silence in the car is thick, punctuated only by the rhythmic thump of the tires on the asphalt. My mind races, replaying every detail of my father's cruelty, each memory fueling the fire in my gut. I grip the steering wheel, knuckles white, the chain beside me a cold, metallic promise.

We pull up to the gates, the wrought iron a mockery of security since this place is more like a prison. Killian effortlessly disables the alarm system, his movements fluid and precise, having plenty of practice before. The mansion looms before us, dark and imposing, a fitting symbol of the darkness that resides within its walls.

As we approach the front door, a sense of foreboding settles over me, heavier than the humid night air. This isn't just about revenge; it's about closure, about reclaiming my stolen life. But the fear—that insidious fucking serpent—still coils in my heart.

Calista squeezes my hand, her touch grounding me. "We've got this," she whispers, her voice a low purr of reassurance.

Her unwavering confidence is a fucking lifeline, pulling me back from the precipice of doubt. I nod, forcing a semblance of calm, and together we move towards the darkness, ready to face the monster within. The click of the lock, the creak of the door, the heavy silence of the hallway… it's all a prelude to the storm that's about to break. The air crackles with anticipation, a silent promise of the reckoning that awaits us.

My father won't know what hit him. He wanted to take my life away from me at such a young age, and I fucking let him. But now, shit, now I'm fuckingfinallyready to take it back.

"Ready?" Cali whispers to both of us, a fire in her eyes I've never seen before. She wants this as much as I do. She too is a victim of his diabolical sins.

"More than ready," I answer, slipping my mask on, even though I don't plan on wearing it for long.

Killian and Cali put theirs on too, the glowing red gleaming in my eyes. Taking a deep breath, we enter the house, shoving down the nausea we're instantly hit with.

The hallway stretches before us, a long, dimly lit corridor that seems to swallow the sound of our footsteps. The only illumination comes from the faint moonlight filtering through the tall, arched windows, casting long, dancing shadows that writhe like phantoms all over the walls. The silence is oppressive, a suffocating blanket woven from anticipation and dread. Each step feels heavy; each breath labored. This isn't the adrenaline-fueled rush I expected; it's a slow, agonizing crawl towards the inevitable confrontation—the thing I've been waiting forever for.

The scent of old wood and dust hangs in the air, a musty perfume that speaks years of secrets and untold horrors. I can almost feel the weight of my father's presence—a malevolent aura clinging to the walls, a palpable sense of his wickedness. Myheart hammers against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the intimidating silence.

Calista's hand remains clasped in mine, her touch a steady anchor in the storm raging within me. Killian moves silently ahead, his senses honed, his movements fluid and deadly. He's a ghost, a shadow moving through the darkness, his presence a silent promise of swift and brutal justice.

---