Page 80 of The Psychopaths

Aries moves closer to the glass, his hand coming up to mirror mine on the other side. For years, I’ve imagined touching him like this, our hands aligned, nothing between us at all. The irony isn’t lost on me that it takes his imprisonment to create this moment of intimacy. Something passes between us in that silent connection—years of unspoken feelings, of careful distance maintained, of boundaries respected.

His eyes say everything his voice cannot: concern, fear, confusion.

I feel Arson shift behind me, a subtle movement that radiates displeasure. Jealousy, perhaps. The air thickens with tension as the three of us form a triangle of complicated emotions—my long-held love for Aries warring with this new, dangerous attraction to his twin.

“Touching,” Arson’s voice breaks the silence, edged with something dangerous. “The princess finally gets to see her prince. Though I’m afraid he’s not quite so charming these days.”

I ignore him, maintaining eye contact with Aries. His gaze shifts briefly to his brother, then back to me. A warning flashes there—be careful, tread lightly, he’s dangerous.

As if I need the reminder when every nerve in my body is already aware of Arson’s predatory presence behind me. The man who imprisoned my stepbrother. The man whose bed I just left.God help me, I want them both.

“Let him go.” I turn from the glass to face Arson, voice steady despite the storm inside me. “Please. You’ve made your point.”

Arson studies me, head tilted slightly like I’m a puzzle he can’t quite solve. “My point?”

“That you can take everything from him. That you have the power.” I step closer, using the connection I know exists between us. “But this—keeping him like an animal—it makes you just like them. The ones who locked you away.” Something flickersin his eyes—a nerve struck. “You’re better than this,” I continue, keeping my voice gentle. “Better than them. You can protect me and continue with your plans against the family without turning into the monster they tried to make you.” My hand reaches for his arm, fingers tentative on his sleeve. “Please, Arson. Show me you’re different.”

For a moment—just a heartbeat—I think I’ve reached him. His expression softens infinitesimally, his body leaning toward mine as if drawn by gravity.

Then the mask slides back into place.

“No.” The word falls like a stone between us.

“But—”

“I said no.” His voice remains calm, controlled. “Aries stays exactly where he is. He’s lucky I feed him and keep him alive. That’s more mercy than they showed me.”

“This isn’t about mercy,” I argue. “It’s about not becoming what you hate.”

“This is about survival.” He catches my hand, removing it from his arm with deliberate care. “I’ll protect you, Lilian. Keep you safe from them. But my plans for him remain unchanged.”

Behind us, Aries shifts closer to the glass, watching our interaction with narrowed eyes.

“He’s suffered enough,” I try again. “Look at him. He’s learned whatever lesson you wanted to teach.”

“Lesson?” Arson laughs, the sound echoing harshly in the concrete corridor. “This isn’t a teachable moment, Little Sister. This is justice. Consequence. Balance.”

“It’s cruel.”

“Yes.” His honesty catches me off guard. “It is. Just like what was done to me. The difference is, I’m honest about my intentions.”

I search his face, looking for any crack in his resolve. “I thought I meant something to you. That night in the garden?—”

“Are you really that naive, to think one little kiss, one little temptation is going to make me forget all my plans. I want your cunt. I’ve told you that many times.” His hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from my face, the gesture jarringly tender in opposition to his words. “Which is why you’re up there, in my bed, and not down here in a cell. But don’t mistake my protection for weakness. Don’t think because I want you, I’ll abandon what I’ve planned for years.”

The casual mention of his want makes heat curl low in my belly, despite everything. I hate my body’s response, hate how even now, standing before Aries’s prison, I can feel myself responding to Arson’s proximity.

“There has to be another way,” I whisper, but I can already see in his eyes that he won’t bend. Not on this. “Let me visit him, then.” The words tumble out as I search for compromise. “Supervised. Controlled. You can be there the whole time.”

Arson shakes his head, unmoved.

“What about limited contact? Just...let him know I’m okay. That I’m here willingly.” I press closer, using my body as leverage. “Or let me bring him better food. Clean clothes. Anything.”

“You think I care about his comfort?” His eyebrow arches. “After what he did? After he stood by and watched them take me away?”

“Then let me share his punishment.” Desperation makes me reckless. “Put me in there with him.”

That gets a reaction—a dark flash in Arson’s eyes. “You want to be locked up with him? Is that it? The two of you playing house in captivity?”

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