Page 16 of Psycho Saints

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "This whole situation is fucked, Noms. I know that."

"At least you can see it," she muttered, shaking her head. "So what's the deal with the other two? Tyrone and Julian? You said they've been nicer to you?"

I nodded, picking at a loose thread on my robe. "They're... different. Showing me a whole other side, you know? Tyrone's been protective, in his own way. And Julian..." I trailed off, thinking about our quiet moments together, Kenny curled up between us.

Noms leaned forward, her brow furrowed. "And Cristian? What about him? Our last few calls, you didn't say a thing about him."

I gritted my teeth, the emotions swirling in my gut. The pain, the betrayal, the helplessness. "He's... he's not been near me since things blew up over all this," I said, carefully omitting the details of what he'd done.

"Good," Noms spat. "He should stay the fuck away."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I couldn't bring myself to tell her about his latest transgression.

"Even with the other two acting somewhat normal," Noms continued, her voice low and urgent, "he's the one I'm worried about long-term. He's a loose cannon, Scar."

I knew she was right. Cristian was unpredictable, dangerous. But I couldn't help thinking about his own past pain. The shot to the head that had scrambled his brains, the loss of Tessa and their unborn child. Maybe this was his twisted way of making things right, of having the family that Tessa had stolen from him.

But why did I have to shoulder that burden? Pay for the heartache she caused?

"I know," I whispered, more to myself than to Noms. "I know he's dangerous. But..."

"But what?" Noms pressed, her eyes searching mine like I was insane for even entertaining any other thought.

I shook my head, unable to put my conflicted feelings into words. How could I explain the strange mix of fear, anger, and... something else I felt towards Cristian? How could I make her understand when I didn't even understand it myself?

"Nothing," I said finally. "You're right. He's unpredictable. I need to be careful."

Noms nodded, but her eyes narrowed. Thankfully, she didn't push for more, and I popped another olive into my mouth. As we fell into silence, my mind wandered back to Cristian. To the pain in his eyes when he talked about Tessa, to the desperation in his voice when he spoke of us deserving a family.

It didn't excuse what he'd done. Nothing could. But a small part of me couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his actions than just cruelty and selfishness.

I pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead on the present moment. On the warmth of the robe against my skin, the lingering scent of lavender from our massages, and the comforting presence of my best friend beside me.

8

CRISTIAN

Istared at my phone, thumb hovering over Tyrone's name. The screen blurred as my vision swam, the harsh light burning my eyes. Fuck. I'd avoided them all after what I did to Scarlet. The memory of her tear-stained face, the fear in her eyes, it tore me apart like a rabid animal clawing at my insides.

"You're a monster," she'd spat. The words echoed in my fucked-up brain, bouncing off the walls of my skull like a twisted game of pinball.

I slammed my fist against my temple, the impact jarring. "Monster, fucking, monster," I growled, each word punctuated by another blow.

The pain bloomed, a familiar friend, but it didn't drown out the chaos in my head. I deserved every harsh word she'd hurled at me, every ounce of venom in her voice. I'd panicked, lost control like a wild beast. Now she hated me, and my brothers... Christ, they were beyond furious. I could practically feel Ty's disapproval radiating through the phone. Hell, he'd found me and given me a beaten rivaling that of our father's, cursing me out for hurting her despite how I'd claimed she was my person. He'd even told me that such an attack could have her miscarrying if she was pregnant.

Why was I like this? I felt like I was two people, the one who wanted to take care of her and have her love me, and another who wanted to claim her and own her, remind her she was mine. Always mine.

I paced the one room apartment, one of our many safe houses, and now my temporary exile, like a caged animal. The threadbare carpet wore thin under my relentless steps. Taking out her IUD was bad enough, but hurting her again after we’d gotten closer? Fuck. I was no better than the scum we dealt with daily, the lowlifes that threatened our family empire constantly.

"I just wanted us to be happy," I muttered to the abstract painting on the wall, tracing the misshapen patterns with my eyes. "To have the family that was stolen from us." The words sounded hollow, even to my own ears.

Images flashed through my mind, a nightmarish slideshow. Tessa's lifeless body, pale and cold, her wrists slit and the fire gone from her now glossed over eyes. The sonogram of our unborn child, gone forever at her hand, a future snuffed out before it began. The crushing weight of loss threatened to suffocate me, pressing down on my chest until I could barely breathe.

I grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle, my constant companion these past few days, and took a long pull. The burn in my throat did nothing to ease the ache in my chest, but I welcomed the familiar fire. How could I make this right? The past few days blurred together in a haze of alcohol and self-loathing as I wracked my brain for a solution.

For a moment, a dark thought crept in, seductive in its simplicity, one that had beckoned me over the past week. Maybe if I wasn't around anymore, they'd all be better off. I could protect them from the monster I'd become, the ticking time bomb in their midst. It would be so easy...

But then I pictured Scarlet. My fierce little kitten, with fire in her eyes and steel in her spine. If it came down to it, I'd die for her in a heartbeat. I was the only one who'd put her before everything else, no matter what. Even before my own family and the bloody empire we ruled.

---