Page 1 of Cruel Charming Psychos (Necessary Evils 2)

ChapterOne

ADDISON

Someone once told me that the greatest sin was also the quietest, that the worst crimes one could commit were done in the hushed whispers of the night. He imagined that the best of people can become the worst of people when they are driven by revenge, that often the white knights become the very dark knights they seek to dethrone.

The man that said these things said them with courageous fire at a podium in front of a god-fearing crowd of believers. I was never one of them. I always believed he was a lunatic and harshly judged my childhood best friend, Paige, for dragging me into that church.

Now, I understand that he was right.

I can feel it in my bones every morning when I awake from the same old nightmares. I can feel it coursing through my veins every time I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. And every time I stare intohiseyes, one hand caressing my stomach, I feel the pangs of guilt ripping me apart from the inside.

Guilt is an emotion that not everyone has the privilege to feel or understand. It is reserved for those whose souls aren’t too far gone. That’s how I know there’s still a spark of goodness somewhere inside me even if I can’t see it on the brightest of days.

Someday, my lies will be exposed.

Someday,hewill learn that I am not the woman who will miraculously save him from the clutches of his depraved family. I am the one that will forever ensure that he never escapes the bastardly darkness of the Callaway dynasty. When he finds out that I’ve been lying to him, it will send him right back into their arms. He’ll become just like the rest of them.

Sometimes, in the early morning light, when he’s lost in the throes of slumberland, I watch him while he sleeps. He looks so innocent as he rests, his mouth drawn open slightly. I’ve seen the worst of him. I know better and yet, still, I can’t help but to get lost in the person I so desperately want him to be.

He doesn’t talk much about the future, but he says enough. He says all the right things that make me want to believe his lies thatsomehowthis can work out. Somehow, the two of us can raise this baby growing in my womb and escape making the same mistakes as our parents. We lie to ourselves and say we’re not like them, that their sins are their own.

But we are just like our parents, wrapped in the same blood-stained sins that drown them.

I stare into the mirror with cold, empty eyes and caress my stomach. I swear I can feel the heartbeat of a little one that only exists on the edge of my lying tongue, but I know better. He isn’t there. He’s a figment, a lie born out of not malice but necessity. The intent of my lies won’t matter when Nick discovers the truth. He will burn this town to the ground, stamping a one-way ticket for himself to hell.

And he’ll take me with him.

From the other room, I hear the knobs of the shower squeak as the raining of water comes to a sudden halt. His footsteps are soft against the cushy mat on the floor, but when he emerges from the bathroom seconds later, I flinch. Steam rolls out behind him, billowing and obfuscating him in a mist of seduction. He slicks his wet hair back as he walks towards the bed, gripping the towel tight against his hip.

I offer him a wry, dry smirk. It’s all I can muster. We don’t smile at each other. Not fully. There’s still a reasonable distrust between us, if only he knew how reasonable that distrust truly is. We’re not bonded together out of love. We are bonded together by a duty to be better people than our parents, to be better parents than our parents.

I’ve already failed.

I avert my gaze from Nick and stare into the mirror, where I still find myself watching him as his towel drops to the wooden floor. He’s physically strong, a Greek statue of a modern God, but he’s weaker than most. That’s probably a part of our sick attraction to each other, our weaknesses pulling us together like electrified magnets.

But the muscles in his back, the ones that form a rigid path to the crack of his taut ass, they entice me to look a little longer than I should. I continue to watch as he climbs into a pair of tight black briefs and then a pair of jeans. It’s casual for him, but I’ve noticed that the more he distances himself from his parents, the more he seems to dress in casual clothing. It’s like he’s shedding a little bit of his identity at a time.

And maybe that’s whysometimesI find myself actually smiling at him, even if he doesn’t smile back. He’s a better person without the weight of his family holding him down. That’s not to say that he’s agoodperson. Just a little less worse.

He picks the towel up off the floor and towels it through his hair, and then he crosses back into the bathroom, not closing the door behind him.

I twist on my feet, cocking my head to watch him as he brushes his teeth over the sink. And then my gaze turns to the bed where a locked box can be seen peeking out from underneath. I step towards the bed and nudge the box out of sight and then wait on the edge of the bed for Nick to finish.

I’m not naïve. I understood fully the consequences of our actions. This peace between us, whittled together by the bonding of broken ideas of the people we loved, will shatter. And when it does, we will devolve into a civil war of entropy, destroying everything we touch. Collateral damage is an unavoidable consequence of war, but it is a justifiable one when the ultimate goal is revenge.

I’m still not quite sure what it is that I’m avenging anymore, though. It was once hot, like a burning fire of clarity but now all I know is that Nick’s father cannot be trusted. He knows too much, and holds that information close to his chest when it could be the ticket to locking me away for the rest of my life. I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do about it, but it starts with getting close to Nick using any means possible.

He doesn’t bother flicking off the light on his way out of the bathroom, signaling that it’s my time to go in. I breathe a heavy sigh before climbing out of the bed and making my way into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked behind me. I stare into the mirror, a different mirror than the one in the bedroom, but I look different now. Perhaps it’s the lighting, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s not watching over me, the weight of his shadow suffocating me. There’s a darker storm of burden brewing in my eyes when I’m alone, when I don’t need to pretend, when I don’t need to pass him the occasional smile to make sure my mask doesn’t slip.

I pull the shirt over my head, letting my breasts hang free.

And then, as if by instinct, I drop a hand to my stomach when I catch Nick’s eyes behind me, peeking through the crack in the door. I pretend as if I don’t see him though as I slide out of my panties and step into the shower. The tiles beneath me are still slick from his shower before, and the water is already primed and hot when I turn the knob.

The water burns against my skin. The steam of the heat quickly wraps curtains around me, enveloping me in a cloud of hot mist. I lean my head back, drenching my long hair underneath the torrential downfall. Faintly, I hear the door crack open further and then I hear the sound of Nick’s jeans pooling on the floor just before the shower door pulls open.

I pretend as if I don’t know he’s there, squeezing the thick locks of hair in my hand. And then when his hand falls upon my hip, I can’t pretend anymore. He closes the distance between us, holding me at the sides as his hard cock flirts with the crack of my ass. He pushes me forward slightly, so that the water spatters against his own muscular back. His lips caress the side of my neck, softly at first, and then his teeth claw against my skin. He breathes hot fire against my ear, whispering moans of lust.

“I know you want it,” he purrs. “Tell me you want me.”

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