Page 51 of Psycho Boys

We reach the end of the hallway, a massive oak door standing before us. The heavy wood seems to absorb the sound, muffling the frantic rhythm of my pulse. Killian produces a small, almost invisible device, and with a deft touch, he bypasses the intricate lock. The door swings inward with a groan, revealing my father's dimly lit study.

My father sits at his large mahogany desk, his back to us, engrossed in some document. The lamplight illuminates his silver hair, the stark contrast to the darkness of the room highlighting the cruel lines etched into his face. He's oblivious to our presence, lost in his own world of power and control—a world he's about to lose.

The sight of him, so unaware, so vulnerable, ignites a fresh wave of fury within me. The fucking years of abuse, the pain, the betrayal—it all merges into a single, burning point of rage—obliterating the man who had stolen my fucking childhood, my fucking innocence, my very fucking soul.

Calista gives me a subtle nod, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination that mirrors my own. Killian moves with the silent grace of a predator, his pistol drawn, ready to strike. This is it. The moment of fucking reckoning.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the confrontation. The chain feels cold and heavy in my hand, a tangible symbol of the justice I'm about to deliver. This time, there will be no escape, no one to fucking save him.

Cali and Killian stand on either side of me, Killian's gun aimed at the back of my father's head and Calista's knife grasped tightly in her hand, shaking, ready to be put to use.

But this is my fight first, before anyone else, and they know that. They're simply waiting for their turn before I chain my father up, attach him to the back of my car, and drive until all the flesh is scraped away from his bones.

We all take our masks off, making a point to let them land with a thump on the freshly waxed hardwood floor, grabbing my father's attention. He jumps, turning around in his chair while subtly reaching for the gun he keeps under his desk—the same one I already removed hours earlier when Cali and I came to check out the place in preparation for tonight.

He casually looks up, meeting my gaze; a fake smile to try and hide the fear in his eyes twitches along his lips, and I grin back, showing him that I'm no longer afraid. I pull a sucker out of my pocket, shove the wrapper back in it, and stick it in my mouth, stepping forward with nothing but the chain in my hands.

"I knew you'd come for me, Ash. I just didn't think you'd have the fucking balls to come so soon." He leans back, nonchalantly pouring whiskey into the empty crystal glass on his desk, one last drink to ease his suffering... but it won't help with what I have planned.

"No one's coming to save you, Adam." I call him out using his first name, knowing he's undeserving of the title of my father. “You should've killed me when you had the fucking chance.”

He grins devilishly, reaching under his desk, slightly to the left, right where his panic button is—the same one Killian disarmed, along with every camera, phone line, and lifeline my father has for his protection. But I return a grin, mine much more intimidating... for once, knowing he's fucked and there'sabsolutely no way, no fucking how his ass is getting out of this one.

His time is up, and it's about time he fucking realized it.

"Oh, you can push that little button all you want; it isn't going to work," Killian sneers, still aiming his pistol at him. "Same as your phone, internet, and any other kind of way of you getting someone to come save your ass."

"You're fucking done, Moretti," Cali coos, letting the words roll off her tongue in such a sexy tone it makes me want to fuck her right here.

My father’s face pales, the bravado draining from his features like water down a drain. The whiskey sloshes in his glass, a pathetic tremor I don't feel the least bit sorry for.

"You're here to kill me, son, then fucking do it. Or are you too much of a fucking pussy? Is that why you brought your sad little friends with you?" He laughs, and out of nowhere Killian fires his gun, putting a bullet into my father's arm, causing the glass to fall from his hand and shatter on the floor, the whiskey pooling beneath him.

"Kill, Jesus. Warn us next time," I gasp, feeling rattled from the shock of the gun still piercing my ears.

"Sorry. Just wanted to shut his ass up." He shrugs, tucking the gun into his waistband as my father begins to panic, blood seeping through his white shirt.

"Cali, baby," I growl, motioning for her to come to me.

She walks over, swaying her hips with her eyes still glued to my father.

"Yeah, baby?" she asks, finally looking away from him and into my lustful eyes.

"Be a good girl and bend over the fucking desk. I want to give my old man one last show before his lights go out forever." I smirk at him, stepping closer to his desk with Cali in front of me.

She leans over it, staring him in the eye as I rip her jeans down, kick her legs open, and step between them, putting the chain down to pull my dick out. Killian walks over and stands behind my father, taking his gun back out and putting the muzzle right to the back of his head, making sure he doesn't try anything.

"You ready, baby?" I ask, rubbing the head of my cock up and down her slit, feeling how wet she's getting.

"Oh, yeah. Fuck me, Ash. Show Adam how a real man does it," she moans as I slide into her from behind, pushing her chest flat onto the desk.

My father tries to look away as I pound into her pussy, shaking his desk, but Killian grabs his head and forces it straight so he has no choice but to watch.

"What, you got a problem watching consenting adults fuck, but don't have one when it comes to raping little kids, or your own fucking son for that matter?" Killian bites, anger seeping from his pores, darkening his eyes at the memories of what my father put us all through.

"Fuck you," my father spits, glaring at me, and all I do is smile back, yanking on Calista's hair as I thrust deeply in and out of her, never feeling her pussy so wet before.

"No, thanks. I'll fuck this pretty little thing, if you don't mind," I retort, kissing her neck while glaring at him, looking deep into his predatory eyes.

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