Page 63 of Darling Psycho

Back to the task at hand, before he got hard thinking about her prancing around the cabin in little clothing. Talk about his brain misfiring in all directions. It felt like an automatic gun around her, shooting at will.

“Please, I don’t know nuthin’.” The guy croaked, cracking his dry lips open. If he thought that was the only bleeding he’d be doing today, he was in for a rude awakening.

“What’s your name?”

“Neal.”

“Okay, Neal, that’s going to be the first and only lie you tell me.”

“I don’t—,”

Lawless didn’t allow him to get further with whatever he was about to spew. Instead, uncovering the pocketknife, he drew the sharp blade along the guy’s cheekbone, watching his skin part like butter.

Naturally, the guy howled.

“Okay, let’s begin again.”

Hours passed.

Lawless used some of his favorite tools and smiled while he put drill holes in the guy’s knees and staples in his earlobes. Next, he was going to slice off his lower lip, but what do you know? The piece of hanging meat cried like a canary because he thought he was sparing his own life, and within minutes, Lawless was given new information on Ruiz’s schedules.

Some would say this guy was innocent, only doing a job. But he was an essential cog in the trafficking train by driving snatched women and teens packed into the back of a truck to their final destination.

He wasn’t innocent.

No matter how much pleading he’d done or crying for his mama.

Lawless was impervious to suffering.

He could watch a man bleed out, piss, puke and shit all over himself, and Lawless’ stomach wouldn’t react. There was no gag reflex while he watched the life drain out of a person’s eyes.

In that respect, he truly was a monster.

Because what kind of man didn’t feel empathy, even if he were the one exacting out the punishment?

But he didn’t derive pleasure from killing.

It wasn’t something he did in his spare time for shits and giggles.

Lawless’ hands were coated in metaphorical blood that would never wash clean. He was far from a good guy.

The door behind him cracked open, and Hawk’s blond head appeared. “You finished in here?”

“Just about.”

“Brought you a change of clothes.” The VP said, “your shadow just rocked up to the clubhouse. She’s talking with my Gia right now.”

He felt a shaft of unexpected pleasure go through his midsection.

It wasn’t ordinary, but Lawless was getting used to acknowledging those reactions now, not lying to himself that it was a stomach ulcer or a break in his psychosis.

He wanted her around.

All the fucking time.

Latching into his skin.

Even when she was pissed off with him.