Page 83 of The Psychopaths

My heart stutters. “Me?”

“Yes. For your complete submission.” His other hand splays across my stomach, warm through the thin fabric of my shirt. “No resistance, games, or holding back.” Heat spirals inside my core despite the circumstances, despite Aries watching our every move.

“That’s not a trade. It’s blackmail,” I whisper.

“It’s a negotiation.” His teeth graze my earlobe. “Isn’t that what you wanted? A way to help him? Is this not me giving you an option?”

“Why now? I’ve been offering you this very thing, and you keep pushing me away, just like he did.” I let the words fade.

I can’t believe I said that out loud. Admitted to Arson again how much Aries hurt me. What if… Hope blooms in my chest, but fades to fear the longer I think about it.

What if it’s a trap?Arson knows how much I want to help Aries. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that there is more to this. No way would he release him so easily.

Across the room, I meet Aries’s gaze. My heart aches for him. Desperation oozes from his body, as he strains against the barrier that separates us, watching Arson’s hands on my body with murderous, possessive fury.

“You’d really let him go?” I ask, hating the hope that fills my voice.

Arson’s hand slides higher, thumb brushing the underside of my breast in a touch that’s barely there but sends ripples of electricity across my skin. “For the right price.”

The implication makes me shiver. “And what’s the price?”

“All of you.” His voice darkens with promise. “I want you. Every single inch. For as long as I choose, to do whatever I want with.”

To demonstrate, his hand moves fully to my breast, cupping it possessively while Aries watches. His touch makes me gasp, and my body hums with life even though I know it’s him and not Aries who is touching me.

“Stop,” I whisper, but don’t pull away.

“Weird. You say stop, but your body says keep going.” His thumb circles my nipple through my shirt, the tip becoming a stiff peak. He has a way of making my body turn on itself.

“Look at him. Do you see the anger in his eyes? The self-hatred?” My eyes find Aries again. His face is a mask of rage and something else—hurt, betrayal, or perhaps, worst of all, arousal.I’m reminded then that the same blood runs in their veins. The same desires.

“I see him,” I whisper.

“Good, and you feel this.” Arson’s hand slides down my stomach, stopping just above the waistband of my jeans. “He never touched you like this, did he? Never let himself take what he wanted.” He shakes his head. “So noble. So controlled.” His fingers dip lower, and my breath catches.Do I tell him to stop or urge him to keep going?“There aren’t many differences between my brother and me, but there is when it comes to you. Where you’re concerned, I have no such limitations. No moral high ground. Just a raw hunger and the will to satisfy it.”

My entire body ripples with pleasure. What is wrong with me? I should be disgusted by this manipulation, this use of my body as a weapon against Aries. But God help me, the heat of Arson’s touch, the forbidden thrill of being caught between twin desires—it’s intoxicating.

“Think about it,” Arson whispers, lips brushing my temple in what might be the first show of tenderness I’ve ever seen him display. “Your body, and complete submission, for his freedom. Seems like a fair trade.”

Then, as if the conversation and his touch were nothing but a dream, he releases me and steps away. The loss of contact leaves me swaying, burning with confused desire.

“Anyway, the family reunion is over,” he says, voice returning to normal volume. “Say goodbye to your stepbrother. We still have the matter of how I plan to punish you for disobeying me.”

Arson

Imaintain my grip on her elbow as we climb the stairs, not trusting her not to bolt if given the chance. Her body remains rigid under my touch, the warmth from before gone cold after our confrontation with Aries.

Exactly as I anticipated. The perfect little stepsister, torn between twins. One she’s loved from afar for years, the other she’s drawn to despite everything.

Or perhaps because of everything.

The security door beeps as I punch in the code, shoving it open with more force than necessary. She stumbles slightly as I guide her into our shared living space, but I don’t soften my grip. Can’t afford to show weakness now.

“Sit.” I gesture toward the kitchen table, finally releasing her.

She obeys, perching on the edge of the chair like she might flee at any moment. Good. She should be wary after that display downstairs. After the proposition I laid out with Aries watching. I move to the refrigerator, pulling out ingredients with mechanical precision.

Cooking has always calmed me, given my hands something to do besides violence. Right now, I need that distraction.

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