Page 52 of Psycho

He looked at me, frowning a little before he gently set me down on my feet and opened the door, holding it open.

I wished he had carried me inside instead, because now that he was letting me walk, there was this illusion of choice, even if I knew it was nothing but that—an illusion.

Yet, it didn’t stop me from feeling like I was willingly walking into my own slaughter party.

I swallowed and crossed over the threshold and took in the place.

It was a warehouse.

But it was a warehouse that had been converted into a living area.

It was spacious, which was made even more so by the sparse decor of the place.

A lone L-shaped black cotton couch, a large coffee table that sat on one side of what I assumed was the living area of the place, with a huge flatscreen attached to the wall opposite of it.

There was a nice black fireplace slightly to the left of everything, and further back was a huge kitchen, with a silver fridge that was probably as big as my closet back home.

There were two doors close to the side, which I assumed were the bedroom and the bathroom, but that was it.

A high ceiling with a row of small rectangular windows took up the top, a few windows placed here and there in between, making the space light and airy and showcasing all the trees outside.

It was a world away from the trailer, and I didn’t know what to think of this.

He didn’t take me to a basement or a dungeon.

He took me to his…

Home.

He lived here.

Why would he take me to his home?

I turned around to find him watching me with that unreadable expression on his face, the one that I was sure had incited fear from men just before he killed them.

Or at least, that was what I thought an enforcer of a one percent MC club did.

There was a reason that the club was so feared around Sacramento, and Micah was the one who enforced it.

He got his hands dirty, so his president didn’t have to. He was also the man Dad hated the most in the MC club, but I thought that was probably because he had to deal with Micah personally.

I doubted he had ever met Dominic Madden.

He feared Micah… with good reasons.

Would he treat me any differently because I was a girl?

I wasn’t above using my gender to get him to go easy on me, but fuck…

Micah had a reputation around the neighborhood for being an unfeeling psycho.

There were lines that shouldn’t be crossed, and if rumors were true, then he had not only crossed every one of those lines, but obliterated them with gasoline and fire.

I took a step back and stopped when he narrowed his eyes at the move.

He took one calculated step toward me.

I didn’t think this man did anything that wasn’t calculated. I could see it in his eyes.

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