Page 117 of The Psychopaths

There’s a painful twist in my chest. The defensive posture that doesn’t quite hide her courage. The intelligence in her eyes even as she calculates her chances against me. The loyalty she still holds for my brother despite his betrayal. The same loyalty she once offered me, before I crushed it with deliberate cruelty.

“I should.” It’s an honest answer that surprises even me. “It would be the most efficient way to handle the situation. Create enough distress to force his hand.”

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t cower. “But?”

“I find myself...reluctant.” The admission costs me something, revealing more than is strategically sound. Deep down, I want her to know that I won’t hurt her, but I can’t say it. Can’t give myself away. “Despite how rough I was with you.”

Her brow furrows with confusion. “You left me unconscious on the floor. Used me as a distraction and walked away.”

“Oh really… is that what he told you?” I keep my voice neutral, though anger flares at Arson’s manipulation. “Did he show you footage? Selective snippets from his security cameras?”

Uncertainty fills in the cracks of confusion. “I saw it myself. I watched you leave me on the floor, unconscious.”

“Cameras can be deceptive,” I’m careful in my response, aware of the surveillance capturing every word I speak. “Especially when controlled by someone with an agenda.”

While speaking, I shift my position again, this time letting her see as I slide a hand behind my back, manipulating something at my wrist. The subtle click of the first lock releasing is audible only to me, the chain maintaining its appearance of security while actually hanging loose. Her eyes track the movement, narrowing slightly in suspicion or recognition.

She’s observant—more so than either of us initially gave her credit for.

“What are you doing?” she asks quietly.

“Creating options,” I reply, equally soft. “The question is whether you want to be part of them.”

The second lock clicks open against my ankle, the sound concealed by a deliberate cough. The chains still appear secure, draped across my body in the same restrictive pattern. The difference is I could shed them at any given second.

“Why would I trust you?” she asks, the fear in her voice tempered with something else. Curiosity, perhaps, or maybe hope.

“You shouldn’t.” My reply is honest. “But you might want to consider which twin has more reason to lie to you right now.”

I lean forward, the chains arranged to appear secure while actually hanging loose around my limbs. The cameras capture this movement, but from their fixed angles, the subtle deception remains hidden.

“I need your help,” I whisper low enough that the intercom might not catch it clearly. “And you need mine.”

Her eyes narrow, suspicion warring with desperate hope. “What kind of help?”

“I’m going to get us both out of here,” I explain, maintaining casual body language for the cameras while infusing my words with urgent sincerity. “But to escape, we need Arson to open that door first.”

Understanding dawns in her eyes—quickly followed by renewed fear. “You’re going to use me as bait.”

“Yes.” No point in lying about the obvious. “But not in the way you think.”

She takes a small step forward, curiosity overriding caution. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I need it to look convincing, but I don’t actually want to hurt you.” I glance meaningfully at the cameras. “He’s watching. Listening. He needs to believe you’re in danger. That’s the only way this will work.”

“Okay, so you want me to pretend you’re hurting me? Scream on cue?” Disbelief colors her tone.

“No. He’d see through that in an instant.” I shift again, calculating the optimal position for when the door eventually opens. “I need to threaten you convincingly. Need to make him believe I’m about to do something unforgivable.”

Her arms wrap around herself protectively. “And why should I trust that you won’t follow through? After what happened?—”

“I know you’re scared. What happened was…” I choose words carefully for both her and our unseen audience. “Complicated. What you think happened and what actually happened aren’t necessarily the same thing.”

“That’s hard to believe when I saw what I did.”

“I understand that, but consider the possibility that my brother showed you exactly what he wanted you to see.” I hold her gaze steadily. “Selective truths are more convincing than outright lies.”

She studies me, searching for deception. “Even if I believed you, why would I help you escape? All you’re going to do is kill him.”

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