Page 69 of Psycho
“You need to get some sleep,” August reminded him gently.
“They’re fucking monsters,” Lucas whispered, almost to himself.
“Yeah, but you’ve got me and I’m the monster other monsters fear.”
Lucas was quiet the following morning. He couldn’t stop staring at the small bandages covering August’s wounds as he dressed. Lucas had done that. He’d taken a knife and carved a part of himself into August’s skin. Would it scar? Would it be a permanent reminder of their night together?
He should feel guilty about that, right? August had said he’d liked it, had even come first, but some part of himself couldn’t help but wonder if it made him no better than Kohn. He’d liked August’s pain, his submission; it had brought out some weird animalistic instinct Lucas hadn’t even thought he’d possessed. Worse still, he couldn’t wait to do it again.
The bed sank as August sat beside him. “Stop.”
Lucas’s gaze darted towards him, startled. “What?”
“Stop running last night through your head, second-guessing what we did and dissecting who you are as a person. I can literally see you trying to gear up for a good brood. What we did last night was one hundred percent consensual. It doesn’t make you a bad person if you enjoyed it. There’s a football field size difference between our sex play and Kohn brutalizing women for entertainment. You know that.”
Did he?
“Are you okay?” Lucas asked, changing the subject as he traced the bandages on August’s shoulder.
August frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be? Oh, you mean the scratches on my back? You could have done more damage with your fingernails. Which I’m also fine with, in case you’re wondering. But I’m better than fine. I actually get a little turned on every time one of them twinges. If I could teach class without a shirt on so everybody could see what you’ve done to me, I would. I like wearing your marks. And if you were being honest, you’d admit you liked it, too.”
Lucas turned, slotting their mouths together in a kiss that lingered, then pressed his forehead to August’s. “I just hate waiting. I understand needing a plan of attack to take out some vicious gang of skinheads, but waiting to take Kohn off the street is…frustrating. I just want this over. I want to know these women are safe, and if they’re not, I’d at least like to know there won’t be any other victims.”
August kissed him again. “I know. Just be patient a little bit longer. I promise you it’s almost over.”
“And then what?”
Lucas hadn’t meant to ask the question out loud. It was just one of those things that had been bouncing around in his brain for days. A question that made him feel even more guilty for worrying about his love life when people were dying.
“And then what…what?” August asked.
Lucas started to stand. “Nothing.”
August pulled him back down. “Not nothing. What do you mean ‘and then what?’”
“What about us? What happens when this is over?” Lucas blurted.
August waved a hand. “We move in together, get married, live a life most people could dream of.” August’s face changed, his expression darkening. “Unless you don’t want that.” Lucas’s brain ground to a halt, but August continued talking. “If that’s what you’re saying, I’m going to need you to table that discussion until after we settle this Kohn issue because I cannot go into this thinking I’ll never see you again or I won’t come back out.”
Lucas had known August would say something like that. He’d known, deep down, that August was serious when he’d said he’d never let Lucas go. Ever. And he needed that. In the deepest, darkest part of him—the one August said everybody had—Lucas needed to know August would never stop fighting for him. He needed to hear the words. More than once. Maybe every day. That dark part of him needed to see the desperation in August’s eyes at the thought of losing him, and maybe that made Lucas the sadistic one, but it was like pushing on a bruise or tonguing at a cavity. He needed to know August ached as much as Lucas did.
Lucas swallowed hard. “You know how crazy this is, right? To outsiders, we look insane.”
August shrugged. “To outsiders, you are insane. I am, too. Who cares what the world thinks?”
“I know you’re right. I guess I’m just tired of being stared at, you know? I always feel like a sideshow freak,” Lucas admitted.
Other than his brief time at the FBI—back before everybody knew his secret—he’d always been an outsider, an outcast like his mother. Not even his own grandfather had wanted him. As much as he loved basking in August’s intense obsession, it made him feel like there was a spotlight shining on him all the time.
“Once you’re a Mulvaney, it's not going to be any better. I’ll shield you from it as much as possible, but people are going to dig into your past. They’re going to know about your dismissal from the FBI. They might even find out about your psychometry. People are going to be curious about you because my family is in the public eye.”
“How do you do it? How do you guys do what you do without the rest of the world finding out?” Lucas asked. Surely, there had to have been at least one outsider who asked the right questions.
“We’re not just killers…we’re illusionists. Calliope creates fake social media posts, geotags them and everything. She Photoshops pictures, gets creative if needed. And, in a pinch, we have some very powerful people determined to see my father’s experiment remain successful. Powerful allies create very strong alibis.”
Lucas gave a hesitant nod. “I’m going to need time…to figure this out…to process—” At August’s mutinous look, Lucas cupped his cheek. “Not us. We don’t make sense, but I’m not in a place where I’m going to question my gut, not anymore. I know this works. Crazy or not, whatever we are works for us. But the rest of it, the public eye thing…your family… I just need time to figure that out.”
August’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah, that makes sense. I understand that. What time is your first class?”
