Page 124 of Psychopath

“You said the right things, you answered the questions in a certain way, ticked boxes, and completed tasks, and they all indicated you had the personality traits of a psychopath, but I believe it to be false. It doesn’t match the Zane Black I’ve got to know over the past six months.”

“Your feelings for me are affecting your judgement.”

Quinn’s chest swelled with fire. “I think you knew what I was after. You knew how to answer to get that label.”

“I hate labels.”

“But you wanted that one.”

Zane pressed his lips together.

“You knew from the very beginning, and that makes all your results invalid.”

“You can’t pick and choose whose results to believe and whose not to.”

“You said you used to attend your friend’s psychology seminars at university. You recognised the tasks, didn’t you? You’d seen some of them before. You knew how to answer, all apart from the one that was mine, where your results were chaotic. You didn’t know what I was looking for in that test, didn’t know whether to be fast or slow.”

When Zane didn’t say anything, Quinn continued.

“You said the right things while the session was being recorded, but before I’d started the tape and after I’d stopped it, you expressed an interest in me. You felt genuine. You asked about myself, you were concerned over Damon having keys to my house and the scratches on my hand from Mars, not to mention Mackie’s growing obsession with me.”

Zane smirked. He sat up fast, keeping his back to Quinn. “I did all that to get what I wanted out of you, which was sex.”

“Why bother when you claimed you could have sex inside if you wanted?”

“Because I wanted it with you. It was more of a challenge, more entertaining.”

“Look me in the eye and say that. Tell me that’s all it was.”

Zane stood up. He swayed and slapped his hand to the side of the van to keep his balance. “I think you’ve let your feelings get in the way—”

“No. I think you have.” Quinn got off the floor. “You broke that door down because you thought Virgil might hurt me. You pulled me behind you.”

“Quinn,” Zane growled. “Stop.”

“Turn around and tell me you don’t care about me.”

“I…I can’t.”

“When I spoke to Virgil about his conviction, I saw his bloodlust. I saw Harris’s disgust and Richard’s anger. When I spoke to Noah, I saw his regret and his pain, but with you, there was nothing.”

“I told you, I can’t remember what happened that night.”

“There was no confusion in your eyes, no desire to find out the truth. You accepted a murder charge, a murder you couldn’t even remember committing.”

“There was evidence. Their blood. My house. Their clothes. My house. Motive. Opportunity. I’m here—”

“Because you choose to be,” Quinn finished. “That’s what you told me. Because you choose. There are no cameras here, no officers, no recording equipment. It’s just you and me, and I’m asking you to tell me the truth.”

Zane hung his head.

“Did you kill Danny and Jessica Saunders?”

Zane cursed under his breath.

“Please. You’ve lied, whenever that tape has been on, you’ve lied, but right now, I’m asking for the truth.”

“No.” Zane scrubbed his hands over his face. “I didn’t kill them.”

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