Page 10 of Psycho Boys

“Thought you could run away without saying goodbye?” The words drip with a dark humor, and my heart sinks. It’s the older man from before—the mastermind. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice in this.”

No. I refuse to give in—not here, not now. Raw desperation floods my senses as I take a step back, ready to challenge him. My freedom was just within reach, and I won’t allow him to trap me again.

“You're wrong. I do have a choice. And I'm going to choose to win.”

He smirks and pulls out a yellow taser from his pack pocket. "How cute, but you winning isn't going to happen tonight."

He raises the taser and fires, forcing the prongs to embed into my abdomen, instantly dropping me to the ground as my body shakes and stiffens from the shock. He grabs my hair and wraps it around his hand, dragging me by it the entire way back to the basement, my mind refusing to accept defeat.

This is just a minor setback, and the next time I try to escape, I'll make sure that no motherfucker will be able to stop me.

FOUR

DISTRACTED

SAY ANYTHING: CARTEL

KILLIAN

Returning to the apartment without Dom feels fucking wrong, as if we don't belong here. There's an undeniable emptiness—someone is missing, and it casts an air of defeat over everything.

Ash and I lounge on the couch, me with a bong in one hand and a glass pipe in the other. The crack high tingles my senses, while the weed soothes my racing heart. Ash snorts another line and takes a shot of Fireball before pulling out his laptop.

“Might as well start researching the men who might have taken her,” he says flatly, his eyes glued to the screen.

"We need to track down her parents' closest allies. I bet they're behind this," I suggest, feeling lost on where to even begin.

"I'm looking into private security and anyone who works at their home. I think they'd be the first suspects," Ash replies with a casual shrug, fingers flying across the keyboard.

I take a deep hit from the bong, holding the smoke in my lungs as I sift through my memories, trying to recall anyone I might have seen during my time there. But thoughts of Cali and Dom cloud everything else. My heart aches. I loathe this emptiness without them, and the sense of helplessness has never been more overwhelming.

Even the drugs aren't providing much relief. In the past, they offered a temporary escape, but now they barely touch the surface of my turmoil. It’s almost as if the substances we’re relying on have lost their potency, mirroring my sense of loss. I exhale slowly, wisps of smoke curling upwards like the last remnants of hope slipping away.

Ash’s focused intensity grabs my attention. “Hey, remember that guy from her last birthday party? The one who wouldn’t stop eyeing her?” He asks, as if an idea just struck him.

My mind races back; I can see the guy’s face—shifty, with an unsettling smirk. "Yeah, the guy who was pissed he didn't win? What about him?” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

“He might have a connection to the kind of people who’d want to use her against her family. We need to dig deeper,” Ash replies, determination etched into his features.

Pushing aside the fog of despair, I reach for my phone. “Let me see if I can pull up the guest list,” I say, scrambling to find any detail that could lead us to Cali. My fingers tremble slightly as I navigate through my contacts, but it feels like grasping at shadows. Thoughts of threats, past rivalries, and hidden agendas swirl in my mind, intensifying the pit of dread in my stomach.

As I sift through numbered names, a part of me can’t help but feel like we’re doing this all too late. We should have protected her better; we should have seen this coming. But guilt only fuels my desperation.

“If we can find this guy, we can figure out what he knows,” I say, trying to steady my voice. "More so what he fucking wants and why he took her."

Ash gives me a nod. “We need to be smart about it. No loud accusations—just observation; recede into the background. If we confront him, it might make things worse.”

I exhale, partly to calm the tumult of emotions inside me but mostly in agreement. My instincts tell me that rushing in blindly would only make matters worse. We already feel lost; we can’t afford to lose each other too in the process.

“Let’s hit the streets tonight,” I advocate, feeling a surge of adrenaline. “We can start at the usual spots—see if anyone's seen him since the party.”

Ash cracks a faint smile, a twisted kind of reassurance in this myth we’re attempting to navigate. “All right. But first, one more round?”

He gestures towards the remnants of our quick high. With a silent agreement, we dive into the brief moment of distraction, knowing the night's gravity awaits just beyond our haze. For now, let the blurred edges of our reality shield us. We might be lost, but we’re not giving up. Not yet.

The front door opens abruptly, startling me and Ash to where I almost drop the bong on the floor. Looking up, I see Five walk in, bags of fast food clutched in his hand and a case of beer in the other. He bypasses us and puts the beer in the fridge, returning to the living room with three of them, and he hands one to me and one to Ash before he sits down and pops the top on his instantly.

"Any progress?" he asks, sipping on his beer, his bloodshot eyes flicking between me and Ash.

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