Page 39 of Darling Psycho

She’d always worn her feelings on the surface, and they’d felt like ants biting him. Now it was something else. Something darker, something he wanted to slop up with bread.

He wanted to kiss her so damn badly until she cried into his rough lips.

She was closed off.Understandable.

It didn’t mean he’d go easy on her. He never had. Lawless had forever given Angela the truth.

Unless he didn’t.

But sugar-coating shit was for fools.

Moving back in was a spontaneous decision and one he wouldn’t retract.

She could spit all the angry fire at him, but she’d do it right here under his roof. He had just the thing to stop her little tantrum.

“What am I thinking, angel?”

He watched her visibly stiffen before she turned around, her eyes cold as glaciers, yet her pupils were blown the fuck up.

Drying her hands vigorously, he was fascinated by her every movement.

“I don’t have time for your games, Lawless. I have places to go.”

Ever the patient madman, he waited until she’d slid into a jacket and picked up her bag before he rose to his feet and watched her stiffen again when he approached, he held out her car keys, and she huffed, taking them from him.

“Places like school andnotthe casino.”

That’s when he earned her eyes.

So fucking fiery. He nearly smiled.

“Last time I checked, I’m an adult who can do what the fuck I want and go where I want.”

“Language, Angela.”

“Fuck off, Lawless.” She snapped, and then she flashed him a smile. Oh, it was blistering cold, but he enjoyed watching her blush when he winked at her. Then he watched her little ass bound out of the door, down the porch steps, and into the Mustang. After bending at the waist to scratch a hand over the ginger cat, he grabbed his coat and bike keys.

She’d come back, if only for Oscar.

Lawless wouldn’t mind chasing her down.

It’d make his mouth water.

He’d only been back in the kitchen a minute with a mouthful of now cold coffee when he switched out the stocks and shares app he’d been glancing at for the hidden tracking app disguised as a calculator. Lawless didn’t experience guilt most of the time, if at all. He had his reasons for everything he did. Some were frivolous. Others had a purpose. Some were downright wicked. And never once did he feel a type of way about his actions.

So as he activated the tracker on Angela’s phone he’d quickly installed while she slept like a snoring lamb, he watched as the screen dot led her right to Denver college.

“Good girl,” he murmured, switching it off.

Now he had things to do by looking into Ruiz.

Doing that prison kill was personal to him.

For Angela.

In the grand scheme of things, it wouldn’t affect her life either way. The damage was done, but it hadn’t dampened the need to cut out the guy who had a hand in Angela losing her family, even if the guy had been just one in a very long line.

One of Lawless’ early memories was standing in a crib and crying for hours. No one came to him, and he learned whining got him the same thing as if he were quiet. And that was nothing.

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