Page 121 of Psycho

And how possessive I was over her.

I would not let her go, and I would let no one take her away from me.

* * *

The air was chargedbetween us as I drove her to school.

She hadn’t said anything on the short drive over there, facing out the side window and away from me.

I watched her every chance I got, and I knew she could feel my eyes on her.

I pulled up to the school and came to park, letting the truck idle by the side.

We were early enough that I still had some time with her before I had to let her go for eight hours.

She turned to me. Her eyes, as usual, were unreadable, but there was something about them today. Something I wanted to get lost in.

When she didn’t say anything, I spoke, asking her the one thing I wanted to know since the moment I looked her up. “What happened at age thirteen to make you stay home from school?”

She was startled by my question. “How did you know something happened at thirteen?”

I didn’t answer her.

“You know there is a line that crosses into the creepy territory, and you’re definitely pushing it.”

I resisted the urge to smile at her words.

If she thought there would ever be a line I wouldn’t cross to own her completely, then she didn’t know me very well.

I waited for her answer.

Letting out a small sigh, she said, “My dad. He got drunk one night after losing the money he borrowed from the King’s Men to gambling, and knowing he couldn’t pay the club back right away, he decided to take his anger out on me. I guess I was just at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

There was no disguising the bitterness and resentment in her voice. My fists clenched around the steering wheel, and my jaw clenched.

She watched me carefully. “Don’t kill him.”

I turned to her. “Do you still love the bastard after all the shit he put you through? Jesus, you were nothing but a child, and your medical record said you fell down the stairs. You didn’t fucking fall, did you?”

She licked her lips, and, for the first time, her eyes weren’t unreadable to me.

The mask slipped, and I fucking saw her pain.

Fuck me, but I wanted to destroy the world for that look on her face—I wanted to destroy Ozzy Reyes.

“I don’t want his blood on my hands.”

“It wouldn’t be on yours,” I replied gruffly.

It would be on mine, and I would make sure it would fucking soak my two hands. Enough that I wouldn’t be able to see them anymore.

I looked down at her small, delicate hands. The gold bracelet I’d gotten her glinted in the sunlight. She was still wearing it, the clasp holding strong.

She shook her head. “If you’re doing this for me, then yeah, it would be on my hands. Just because you don’t have a conscience when it comes to killing people doesn’t mean I don’t. Just because I let you touch me doesn’t mean I am okay with what you do. I just… it’s easier to bury my head in the sand than to really think about it. I should be disgusted that I even let you touch me, let alone fall apart.”

I wrapped my arm around her and hauled her in closer to me.

She looked up at me, and it was as if the dam was broken, because I saw a world of emotions in her eyes.

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