Page 50 of Psycho

“No,” I answer in a clipped tone.

She places a hand on her hip as she demands, “Then let me go. I want to leave.”

That’s not happening. There’s no fucking chance of her walking away from me, but I don’t say that because, for once, I don’t want her fight.

“After you rest,” I say, and am pleased my lie was convincing enough. She storms into the bedroom, and gets under the sheets with an exasperated sigh.

Reaching under the cabinet, I grab what I need, and shove it into my pocket.

I come out of the bathroom and stand in the doorway, unable to take my eyes off her. I drink her in, every delicious inch, even as she scowls at me.

“Do you really have to watch me sleep?”

“Yes,” is my only answer, because I like watching her. It doesn’t matter if she’s awake, mouthing off to me, coming all over my cock, or sleeping. Anastasia captivates me in all things, but right now I’m waiting for her to fall asleep, to make my next move.

I pull my cell phone out, and check my messages, so she thinks I’m not watching her. Rolling my eyes, I respond to my brother’s text.

Reaper:Bella could do it.

Me:No. Nobody is killing her.

He sends me an immediate bulging eye emoji, which I know is all the effect of his wife, because he didn’t do this annoying cutesy shit before he met her.

Reaper:Nobody is killing her?

Then he sends a thinking emoji, and I’m officially done with this conversation. I glance back over to Anastasia, and grin when I notice her parted lips, as she sleeps. Walking over to her, I take a second to get a good look at her features. Her lashes flutter as she sleeps, her cheeks have a light blush to them, and those full lips are the perfect shade of pink. She is stunning, but when she wakes up tomorrow, she will not be this calm. Once again she’ll call me a monster, but I was nice. I could’ve done this while she was awake. She should be grateful. Yet, I know she won’t be.

After grabbing the alcohol, I clean her skin before placing the needle to her neck, and slowly push it through her flesh. I know she’s out for the night, but I keep my voice low anyway.

“My sweet little lamb, tomorrow is the day. You’ll realize when you wake up, I’ll never let you go. I don’t love you, I never will. It’s not something I am capable of, but what is greater than love? Obsession. You have that.”

Lifting her into my arms, I hold her close to my chest, and carry her back down to the basement where my fixation started. Taking her into my tattoo room, I lay her on the chair, and stroke my finger over her lower back as I hum.

“You’re going to look so stunning with my knife on your back.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

PSYCHO

I watch her sleeping peacefully, or at least that’s how it appears, until she starts crying. Eyes still closed, tears run down her cheeks, as she calls the name I’ve heard before.

“Michael!” she sobs.

“No! Michael, please.”

She opens her eyes and stares in confusion, likely wondering how she ended up down here. Rolling from her side to her back, she winces from the pain with a hiss.

I walk over to her, and gaze at her perplexed expression.

“Easy, little lamb.”

“Did you beat me?”

I reach down to brush the hair from her face, and she flinches.

“Oh my God. You did.”

Pointing to the Advil, and a glass of water, on the bedside table, I answer her question.

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