Page 13 of Psycho

My little Storm with her dark and cloudy eyes that had seen too much.

Done too much.

I was going to renew some of that darkness in violence for her, becauseofviolence done to her. Yesterday, she finally let me into her pretty little head, releasing some fears she had inside of there and how they got there to begin with. Today, I was already making my first move.

Terrance Gaves.

Hit number one.

An entrepreneur that built a shipping logistics company up to a fortune five hundred business in just a few years. And then sold it for a crap ton of cash. He was married with three kids and a hefty addiction to cocaine and sex.

Perfect family man.

By tomorrow morning, his wife would be a widower.

Lucky gal.

“Because I want Damon to know we’re coming for him.” I replied, mapping out the interior layout of the massive house in front of us based on the blueprints I had got this morning. “I want him to fucking fear me before he ever even knows who I am.”

Dane chuckled and pulled a leather glove on. “Well, when’s the wedding?”

I ignored him, “Stay to the two side, and wait for my signal.”

“Yes, sir.” He mockingly saluted and disappeared around the front of the house.

“Fucking go time.” I hissed and cracked my neck, letting my true self take the lead to have a little fun.

“Do you have any fucking idea who I am!” Terrance screamed as I pitched him forward, while stepping on his wrist. His shoulder dislocated with such ease; it was pitiful actually.

Just like the puddle of piss he was now sitting in, on the marble floor of his foyer. I didn’t intend to leave the mess for his wife and kids when they got back from vacation, but I was enjoying watching him make the mess.

I wasn’t a complete dirtbag, just a psychopath.

“Do you have any fucking idea whoIam?” I replied, throwing him down onto the floor face down with his now doubly useless arms still cuffed behind his back.

“What do you want?” He gasped, turning his cheek to the side to look up at me as he huffed and puffed.

For a forty something year old man, he was in terrible shape. Even with no arms at all, he should have been able to roll over or something to make himself seem less pathetic.

“I don’t want anything from you.” I replied as Dane sat on the foyer table, swinging his legs back and forth like a child. He was really embracing his inner weirdo, and it was freaking Terrance out even more. Which was the point, but Dane wouldn’t be touching the man. Even if Olivia was his sister-in-law, this one was personal to me.

Maybe I’d let him have one or two of the other thirty men on the list. Maybe.

“You’re the messenger.” Dane sang like a wacko and Terrance scurried across the floor like a slug to get further away from him. “Aww, I don’t think he likes me.”

“What kind of message?” Terrance demanded, “To who?”

“Does it matter?” Dane cocked his head to the side and jumped onto his feet a few inches away from Terrance’s face with a resounding thud. “You’ll be dead.”

“No, please!” The man begged, “I can send the message without dying, please! I’ll help you. Please, just don’t kill me! I have kids!”

“Do you tell the prostitutes you sleep with from the Velvet Cage about your kids?” I questioned, drawing his attention backto me as Dane circled around him. “Or do you tell your kids about all the blow you’re wasting their inheritance on?”

The man’s eyes rounded, and he finally mustered up the courage to roll onto his back to look up at me like a man. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dane sneered and looked over at me, “So, how we doing this? Bullets? Knife? Fire?”

Terrance’s face paled as he realized he really wasn’t walking away after all.

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