Page 10 of Psycho

Twenty-six years ago, he was my protector, whether I wanted him to be or not.

I stand holding my two cut braids in my hands, with tears running down my face. All four Bonetti brothers are mean, so this shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.

Massimo comes into the kitchen, after returning from his run, and stops in his tracks when he spots me, knitting his brows, his expression showing concern for me.

“What happened?”

His gaze travels, from the tears on my cheeks, down to the hair in my hands. I am like any other 12-year-old girl. My hair is important to me, and this is devastating.

“Luca cut my hair!” I say, as I continue to look at the damage he has done. I don't know how I am supposed to go to school on Monday, looking like this. He darts out of the room, yelling, “Luca! Get in here!”

The Bonetti brothers aren’t the kind of boys that talk things over. It’s no surprise, when I go after them, and find Massimo on top of Luca, punching his face repeatedly.

The weird thing about Massimo Bonetti is that he is mean to me, but apparently he’s the only one who is allowed to be.

I tilt my head back, and look into his eyes, and am grateful at the lack of recognition in his gaze.

“I’m sorry for coming onto your property. I was curious what this place was. I’ll be going now.”

He rubs his hand over his beard, without taking his eyes from mine.

“That’s the game we’re playing?”

I shake my head, trying to convince him to let me go.

“It was an accident. I’m sorry. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. I’ll be sure to never come on your property again.”

I’ve been to his brother’s house recently, but he wasn’t there, so I’m hoping he doesn’t know what I look like.

He is not the boy I knew. Massimo has some of the same features, but he has filled out since he was sixteen, the last time I saw him. His shirt is tight around his muscles, as they flex with his movements. His gaze, more threatening. And his voice? I don’t remember it being the deep tone it is now.

His lips turn up into a smirk, as his eyes darken with obvious malicious intent.

“That’s the problem, Anastasia. We both know that’s not the truth. Don’t we, counselor?”

“That’s not my name. I’m Jenny.”

He strokes his fingers down my cheek, giving the illusion of a gentle touch, before he places his hand around my throat and squeezes.

“Liars don’t live long in my presence. You’d serve yourself well to remember that.”

I cough, as I gasp for air, when he releases his hold on me.

“Leave me alone, or I’ll call the police.”

He steps back, with a sadistic grin on his face, and a challenge in his eyes, as if this is some sort of entertaining game.

“Call them. I’ll wait.”

I tilt my head at him, not believing for a second that he’s going to allow me to call for help.

Massimo nods. “Go right ahead, little lamb. I will not touch you before they get here. Scout’s honor.”

I roll my eyes at him, because I’m quite sure this man was never a boy scout. In a split second decision, I call the Chief of Police, instead of dialing 9-1-1, simply because I don’t want to bother them.

He answers with surprise.

“Anastasia?” He questions quietly, like maybe his wife is sleeping.

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