Page 115 of The Psychopaths

“Fuck,” I mutter, raking both hands through my hair. The rage has evaporated completely, leaving only cold, clear horror in its wake.

I need to get her out of there. Now. Before— Before what? Before Aries hurts her? Before he says something to turn her against me permanently? Before he convinces her that he’s the lesser evil between identical monsters? Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of—that given enough time alone with him, she’ll recognize something in Aries worth salvaging. Something familiar from years of watching him and wanting him. That she’ll realize her slip of the tongue wasn’t a mistake but a deeper truth about where her heart truly lies.

Fuck me. I change direction, moving toward the security room instead of returning to the cell. If I can’t bring myself to admit my mistake face-to-face, I can at least monitor the situation.

Make sure Aries doesn’t hurt her again and intervene if necessary.

The bank of monitors flickers to life as I enter the security codes, cameras activating to show multiple angles of the cell. Lilian still stands pressed against the far wall. Aries watches herwith interest from his limited radius. I sink into the chair, eyes fixed on the screen, fingers hovering over the emergency release that would open the cell door instantly if need be.

I won’t leave her in there for long.It won’t take long to prove my point. To make her see the difference between us once and for all.

I need to see where her loyalties are when faced with both versions of the same face.

To prove to myself that I can still control the situation. That emotions haven’t completely compromised ten years of careful planning. But even as I form the justification, I know it’s a lie. This isn’t a strategy. This is jealousy, pure and simple.

Ugly, human, and terrifyingly new.

Aries

The door locks with a definitive click, leaving Lilian trapped with me in this concrete cage. Through the observation window, I watch Arson’s retreating back—shoulders tight with fury, hands clenched into fists.

Predictable.Always so predictably reactive.

Lilian remains pressed against the far wall, as distant from me as the cell allows. Fear radiates from her in palpable waves, and her blue eyes dart between me and the door as if calculating her chances of survival. The bruises from our last encounter have faded to yellowish shadows on her skin, but new ones mark her upper arms where Arson gripped her.

How can he make me out to be the villain when he leaves bruises on her skin?

“Well,” I say, keeping my voice deliberately casual, chains clinking as I settle back onto the cot. “This is certainly unexpected.”

She says nothing, her body tense as a drawn bow, ready to flee despite having nowhere to go. After the cruel way I claimed her, she has a right to be afraid. As terrible as it is, and as much as I wish I could explain myself, I need her to see me as the monster I portrayed myself to be, now more than ever.

The surveillance cameras in the corners of the cell blink their red lights steadily. Arson is watching, analyzing, waiting for me to make a move that confirms his worst suspicions.

I won’t give him the satisfaction.Not yet.

“I won’t lie. I didn’t expect there to be problems so soon,” I continue, gesturing to the door with mock sympathy. “Guess that means the honeymoon phase is over.”

Her slight flinch confirms it. So predictable, both of them. So easy to manipulate when you understand their wounds. While my mouth forms cruel words designed for the watching cameras, my mind travels a different path. To the first time I truly saw her—not as my father’s new wife’s daughter, but as Lilian.

Sixteen, fierce despite her supposed fragility, cornering me in the library with trembling determination.“I know you feel it, too,” she’d said, voice stronger than her shaking hands suggested. “This thing between us. I’m not a child, Aries. I know what I want.”

What she couldn’t know was how right she was.

How precisely her words landed. How much restraint it took to push her away, to watch her expression fill with hurt as I coldly suggested therapy for herinappropriate fixation.

I knew I had made the right decision to keep her at arm’s length, to protect her from becoming a pawn in the Hayes family games. My father had already gotten accustomed to using the slightest rare attachment against me too many times.

I wouldn’t give him Lilian as another weapon. Wouldn’t let her become collateral damage in the toxic game of control that defined our family. In turn, I buried my feelings for her beneath a carefully constructed distance. Slowly, I became the cold, unattainable stepbrother she both yearned for and resented.

It hurt like hell, but I knew it would hurt far less than watching her get destroyed from nothing more than her proximity to me. It’s almost funny how the one thing I tried toprotect her from is inevitably the one thing that will hurt her. Would I have made the same choice then if I had known this would be the outcome? To have her trapped with the monster I’ve pretended to be, while my twin watches to see which of us will draw first blood?

I’m not sure. Lilian is the only person I’ve never been selfish with. The only person I’ve ever actually wanted to protect.

The cell offers limited tactical advantages—eight by ten feet of concrete, a single cot bolted to the floor, toilet and sink in the corner. The chains restrict my movement to a seven-foot radius from the wall anchor, allowing access to most of the space but not quite reaching the door. Arson designed it that way deliberately.Always the careful strategist.

What he doesn’t know is that I’ve already compromised the chains. Three days of methodical work while pretending to sleep, metal links weakened just enough that a sudden jerk will break them. Not freedom yet, but an advantage he isn’t expecting.

My mind is reeling as I try to devise a plan to escape. Lilian’s position against the far wall puts her just at the edge of my reach—a calculation on her part that I respect. I watch her chest rise and fall with rapid breaths, fear mixed with determination. I bet her heart is beating out of her chest. Her blue eyes remain clear, assessing the space.

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