Page 23 of Psycho Saints

Cristian stepped forward, his voice low and urgent. "If you choose this, I'll do everything right by you, kitten. I'll regain your trust, I swear it. Prove to you I will do anything for you, anything at all." His words were laced with a desperation that made my breath catch.

He held out a knife in one hand and a handgun in the other, the metal glinting ominously in the dim light. "The gun will be a quick death," he explained, then nodded toward the knife. "Or you can make him pay for everything he did to you, for the pain he caused. Make him suffer like he made you suffer."

For a brief, wild moment, I considered turning the gun on Cristian, on all of them. But the thought vanished as quickly as it came, leaving me cold and trembling. This was the moment that would define my future, the path my life would take from here on out. There was no going back after this, no redemption.

A perverse part of me craved the chaos, the darkness that the Silvestris offered. It whispered seductively in my ear, promising power, vengeance, and a twisted sort of belonging. I knew I was damning myself to hell, but I couldn't deny the pull of it all. It was like staring into an abyss and feeling it stare right back, beckoning me to jump.

With a shaking hand, I reached out and grasped the handle of the knife. The weight of it felt right, like it belonged there. I wrapped my fingers around it, feeling the cold steel warm to my touch. At that moment, I knew I had crossed a line I could never uncross.

I stared at Ian as he struggled against his restraints, his muffled whimpers barely audible through the gag. My grip on the knife tightened, knuckles turning white.

Tyrone's voice cut through the silence. "We've kept him here for the past week, ever since we learned about him. For you."

"He wasn't hard to find once I had his name. I'd planned on dealing with him as soon as I learned what he did to you, and Lily," Julian said, his voice heavy as he stared at Ian like he was filth.

A hiss escaped my lips at the reminder, and Ian's whimpers grew louder, more frantic.

Cristian stepped closer, his eyes dark with hatred as he glared at Ian. "He deserves this. He took a life that hadn't yet had a chance to flourish, and he did it out of cruelty and selfishness. He deserves to burn for it all." His gaze softened as it met mine. "But this is for you, kitten. Your justice, your closure."

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. Cristian tilted his head, studying me, a tenderness glinting in his eyes. "Do you want me to walk you through what to do?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Which areas you can strike him that won't kill him," Cristian explained, pointing out spots on Ian's body as the bastard sobbed and shook his head frantically. "How you can make him bleed, cut him open, take your time knowing he won't die quick. I could even show you how to remove certain organs without killing him. Or we can take some fingers?"

I shuddered at the easy-going tone Cristian used, reminding me of their true nature, who they really were.

Cristian moved behind Ian's chair, gripping his head to hold it in place. "You can do whatever you need to do. I'm here for you, forever. I'll help you through this darkness." His eyes gleamed with a twisted excitement. "Perhaps we should take his tongue for what he said? For the words he spoke? Do you want to do that, kitten?"

Tyrone cleared his throat. "We can leave you alone to do whatever you like with him."

I shook my head quickly, panic rising in my chest at the thought of being alone with Ian. No, I wanted them here. I needed them.

"Then we'll stay," Julian said softly, touching my arm. "We do this together. Tell us what you want, pyro."

I stared at Ian, memories of that horrific day flashing through my mind. The pain, the terror, the overwhelming grief. My baby girl, gone before she had a chance to live. Because of him.

"I don't know what I want," I whispered, but as I looked at Cristian, a realization hit me hard. I was just as fucked up as he was. I could pretend to be human and normal, but deep down, I wanted to make Ian pay. To drag it out, to make him suffer like he'd made me suffer.

My gaze swept over the brothers – Tyrone's calm demeanor, Julian's quiet support, Cristian's barely contained excitement. None of them were bothered in the slightest by this whole scenario. They'd brought Ian to me so I could kill him, or they'd do it themselves.

In that moment, I saw them for what they truly were. No matter what sides they showed me, they were all monsters.

And as I tightened my grip on the knife, another thought struck me, sending a chill through me.

We all were.

12

SCARLET

Isat on the shower floor, warm water cascading over my skin. Cristian's gentle touch brought me back to that night we'd bared our souls to each other. But this time, the water ran pink with Ian's blood.

Cristian's hands moved tenderly, washing away the evidence of my savagery. "It's okay, kitten. You're one of us now," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing.

I stared at my hands, seeing them covered in blood even as the water washed it away. Flashes of what I'd done to Ian played through my mind like a twisted film reel. The knife plunging into his flesh. The sound of his screams. The hot spray of blood on my face. It was like I'd become someone else entirely, all my twisted emotions and rage exploding out through that blade.

"You did so well, sweetheart," Cristian praised, running the cloth over my arms. "You're going to help us build our empire. Rule alongside us in the darkness."

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