Page 15 of Darling Psycho

His pulse was on fire.

Breathing as though Hell hounds had chased him for hours.

Every wire and neuron in his heavily muscled and tattooed body felt as though he was caught in an electrical stream, making him twitch with the urge to move.

To bite.

To suck.

To fucking consume.

Toclaim.

He wasn’t her guardian.

Nor was Lawless her father.

But she was his all the same.

And Benz had made a fatal fucking error trying to take something that belonged to Lawless.

FIVE

“Waiting for the monster in her dreams.”- Angela Cabello

“Chad, I wouldn’t touch you with my worst enemy’s vagina. Sidle up to me again with your halitosis, and I’ll introduce you to my taser. Now be a good rodent and go away.”

“Ah, c’mon, Angie, one drink is all I’m asking.”

Bored, Angela Cabello turned her head to face the irritant in his designer blazer. Daddy’s little rich boys were up there with genital warts and alien attacks. Things Angela never wanted to be bothered by.

“Why? So you can slip something in it?” She watched his cheeks mottled red before he slinked off into the crowd, but not before she heard him mutter, “frigid fucking bitch,”

She’d let them all think she was frigid, so she didn’t have to deal with assholes trying to be men.

“Holy shit,” she heard cackling beside her, “I love to watch you annihilate boys.”

“If they’d take no for an answer, I wouldn’t have to do anything,” she told Robinne. It was sad how Angela only had one true college friend, and that was because, during orientation week, Robinne glommed onto her and wouldn’t take her standoffish attitude as a hint. It also sucked how she hated frat parties, but this was her ninth one this month. She only came to them to ensure her friend’s drinks weren’t drugged by dickhead boys with inflated egos.

Tonight’s party was for the jocks.

Or maybe it was the chess geeks.

Who could tell these days because college turned out to be nothing like high school, where everyone had their cliques and didn’t venture across state lines. Even the science majors were fuck boys.

Angela was in the third year of her undergrad degree and would graduate next year. She’d doubled down on her courses to graduate a whole year earlier. But still faced another three years of law school, which would be a killer. Everything else was a cakewalk compared to what was still to come. She was already mentally exhausted, but as her biker friends knew, she was an overachiever and wouldn’t let being worn out stop her from reaching her goals.

Robinne bumped shoulders with her, smiling. “Do you really have a taser?”

“Sure. Always be prepared.” it was custom made, stored in her small purse, and very illegal.

“You talk like such a cop.”

Nah, she talked like a biker because a bunch of prominent men and women had a hand in making Angela who she was today.

Her family. Not by blood, but made by the heart.

She no longer had blood relatives, but that was a sob story for another day and not something she wanted in her head while enduring a party from bore city.