Page 35 of Darling Psycho

Knowing this, it didn’t stop her from being glib, eyes forward, so she ignored him. “If you’re about to kill me, at least feed Oscar before you leave. He gets grouchy if he hasn’t eaten before eight.”

A plate holding two donuts and an almond pastry appeared before her. Followed by a mug of white coffee. “I’ve kept you alive since you were fourteen. So why the fuck would I kill you now? And I rarely feed my kills. Now eat. I see I still have to remind you.”

Yeah, like she needed that in her head, too, with all the other busy shit.

Angela kept her face blank and ate.

Thankfully, Lawless returned to his seat, taking his woodsy smell with him, acting blasé like he hadn’t just dropped yet another Lawless-shaped bombshell on her lap.

What the fuck did she see in this guy, anyway? Why was he the only man to turn her inside out?

Sure, he was gorgeous. The kind of sexy women and men took second and third glances at. He’s fit and muscular with veiny arms with a body type that made a person think he climbed mountains for fun or bench pressed a Hummer. But she’d been attracted to many sexy men in her lifetime so far. Unfortunately, none of them made her want to shimmy out of her panties and test how strong his face was by sitting on it.

“Why are you doing this?”

The emotion pressed into her throat, choking out her words in a croak. Needing to be strong and fearless, but she was neither of those things where he was concerned.

Lawless had always been her Achilles heel, and that was so damn hard to admit having a weakness.

He looked at her as if he could see directly into her thoughts, though his facial expression didn’t alter. “I’m putting things back on track.”

What the fuck did that even mean?

Was he getting his life in order? That made sense, she guessed. He’d been locked up for a long time, and anyone would want their house back after being in a jail cell.

Taking his answer for what it was, Angela pulled the plate of pastries toward her and ate on autopilot, filling the gnawing hunger in her belly until it was gone.

They didn’t speak.

And Lawless worked on his tablet for a while.

When she was done, she left the kitchen without a word, rushing through a shower and dressing while she got her thoughts in order.

Despite what he said, there was no way Angela was playing roomies with Lawless. Once dressed, she hastily packed a small bag with a few essential things, the rest she could come back for. Dropping it by the front door, she went into the living room to grab her laptop and school things. By the time she returned, the bag at the front door was missing, but was replaced by a glowering man.

“I said you don’t have to move out.”

“Well, I want to. I’m not much for roommates. It’s why I hated living on campus.”

Lawless’ eyebrow rolled up drolly as if she were saying something hilarious. “I’m not an annoying eighteen-year-old girl.”

“No, you’re a thirty-six-year-old annoying man. Where did you put my bag?”

“Away.”

Angela sighed and rubbed her forehead. This was not how she foresaw her morning going. Again, the little traitor she’d raised since birth followed Lawless as he strode into the kitchen. She followed because why the hell not? It seemed to be the thing to do.

She stared at his broad back and his purposeful stride and felt the ache going through her. Once upon a time, she wished everyone had a Lawless in their life because he was heavy, dangerous, and about the safest place on earth. His chest was broad and solid, and every time she’d looked at it, Angela imagined herself draped over it.

He was also dry, funny, and crazy smart. Like scarily smart. If he worked for the government, there would be no more terrorism because Lawless would find and kill them. He was that good. What was always remarkable about Lawless was he was self-taught. If he got curious about something, he put his all into learning about it. No wonder he had degrees coming out of his ears. He’d told her once when a man came from nothing, it didn’t mean he had to stay being nothing.

The further she followed him into the kitchen, the more irked she became at his attitude that he’d decreed something, and so it be. She wondered if she could get away with kicking him in the shin. A man like Lawless on his knees, now that she’d pay to see.

Unfortunately, she didn’t kick him, and he took his seat. Those eyes, so like a Huskie, came at her, unwavering.

“Why were you working for Benz?”

Okay, not what she was expecting.