Page 4

PSYCHO

I watch her smile, and collect her coffee from the register of Mounds Coffee Company, which I happen to think is a poorly named business. She smiles, and laughs, with the man at the counter, completely fucking oblivious to the man watching her.

Her killer.

I’m not Reaper. I don’t go searching for people to kill, because their eyes look interesting when they die. I’m also not fucking pussy whipped like my three brothers are. Apparently, if they are a good enough fuck, we let traitors live. I cannot touch Kage’s firecracker, but the woman that started it all? She’s as good as fucking dead.

I lick my lips, as I watch her carry on with her life as if she has nothing but time. Spoiler alert, she does not.

Pretty little lamb, you should not have gone into the wolf’s den.

She wanted to know more about the Bonetti Brothers. Her wish is my command. The pretty little counselor will learn firsthand that you do not fuck with us.

One, two, Psycho is coming for you.

Three, four, your blood will coat my floor.

Five, six, you’ll beg to live.

Seven, eight, it’s too late.

Nine, ten, scream for me again.

I keep my distance for now, so I can learn her routine, as I follow her to the District Attorney’s office. She hugs a woman outside, as they laugh about something I don’t hear, and walk through the revolving glass door. Pretty little Anastasia Crowne, clueless about what she has started.

I’m her stalker.

Her tormentor.

Her killer.

I stroke my fingers through my short beard, and take a deep sigh in contentment. This will be fun. The girl she is with presses the button for the elevator, as I move closer to her. Am I worried about her recognizing who I am?

Not at all. I’m not stalking her in the shadows, because I want her to know I’m coming for her. When she looks at my face, I want her to know that Massimo Bonetti, also known as Psycho, is coming for her. I step into the elevator, and both women quickly move to the side as they feel my presence, and Anastasia presses number four, never stopping her conversation. We stop on their floor and she glances at me, but there’s no recognition on her face. Maybe my aviators disguised me, but I’m disappointed.

She’s a few steps ahead of me when I nod to the receptionist. Anastasia stops in her tracks when she hears the words that come out of my mouth.

“Good morning. Mr. Bonetti to see District Attorney Easton.”

My eyes dart, from the secretary in front of me, to Anastasia, as the panic visibly sets in. She clenches her free hand into a fist, her muscles tightening as she stops moving, and takes a moment, before she walks down the hall to what I assume is her office. I bet her heart is pounding. Is she struggling to get a full breath? Fuck. I can hardly wait to see the effect my brutality will have on her.

“Is he expecting you?”

I flash her a grin and say, “No,” before I walk down the same hallway Anastasia did. As usual, his blinds are down, hiding all his despicable behavior. Without knocking, I open the door, step inside his office, and sit down in the chair across from his desk. He is busy reading something on his computer, and doesn’t even notice I’m here. Am I fucking invisible today?

Picking up the picture on his desk, I run my finger along the faces of his wife and daughter.

“I forgot how beautiful they are.”

That gets his attention. His gaze snaps to mine, his showing instant uneasiness.

“Mr. Bonetti. Did I miss a meeting? We usually meet outside of the office.”

I run my hand over my beard casually, with my eyes glued to the photograph, as I respond to him.

“No. If I want to come into your office, I will. Is there a problem with that?”

He shakes his head emphatically, as I lift my gaze to his.

“No, sir.”

Easton does not want me here. There’s a risk someone not in our pocket could see me, and cause him some headaches. Other than that, he’s fucking petrified of me, as he should be, and doesn’t enjoy surprise visits. Every Bonetti brother instills fear, but I like to think I’m more special than they are. I’m known for my psychotic tendencies.

“Tell me everything there is to know about Anastasia Crowne.”

He stares at me with a concerned expression, and he should be worried. I don’t appreciate questions when I’m asking for answers.

“Is there a problem?”

Sitting back in the black leather chair, I casually cross one leg over the other, and pull my aviators off.

“Nothing I can’t handle. I will give you a heads up out of courtesy. You’ll need to find a replacement for her. Soon she will disappear and, of course, you won’t notice. If her family contacts you, you will have no information for them. The Chief will be concerned enough to handle the investigation himself, but, of course, he won’t find anything either. Do we understand each other?”

He swallows hard and nods.

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, everything.”

I set the picture back on his desk, to let him know his family is safe if he answers my questions. I’ve never threatened them, because I haven’t had to, but the occasional reminder of what’s at stake doesn’t hurt.

“She’s relatively new to my office. Anastasia has only worked here for a couple of months. She seems eager to serve the community. I think she’s the ‘change the world’ type.”

“Her family?” I ask.

Easton shifts in his seat uncomfortably as I glare at him.

“I don’t know much, but she was the first in her family to go to college, and most of her pay goes to taking care of her mother.”

I scratch the side of my jaw, wondering what the story is, but it doesn’t matter.

A sob story will not change the outcome, if there is one.

“Do we understand each other?” I ask with an arched brow.

“Did she do something?”

As I drag my hand down my face, I answer, “She did. It seems your overzealous ADA is doing her own side work. A little investigation into the Bonetti Brothers. I assume you didn’t put her up to this? I’m sure you know the consequences of such behavior.”

His face goes pale, as he taps his foot under his desk in agitation, likely resisting the urge to run. We both know he wouldn’t get far, so it’s hardly worth the risk. I’ve never killed anyone in a government office, but I’m not above it either. I may need to add that to my bucket list.

“No, sir. I know the rules and I play by them. I would never cross your family.”

I pull out a bag of cocaine, which is how I bought his silence three years ago. He does whatever the fuck we want, and the drugs keep coming. That’s how we control so much of the city. If you find a weak spot, you can easily exploit it.

“Not a word to her, or anyone. If she has a warning to run, you will watch me slice your pretty wife to shreds.”

Does he even react to me threatening his wife for the first time? No, of course not, because he’s far too focused on his little treat.

Easton stares at the bag on his desk, and I can see him nearly salivate. The second I walk out the door, the white powder will be up his nose. His jaw is clenched, fists tight, like it’s taking everything in him to not get high right now. This is why junkies are my fucking favorite. They are the easiest to control.

“I won’t betray you. Ever.”

I rise from my seat, and pat him on the head.

“Good boy.”

Turning away from him, I walk to the door, and hear him rip open the bag before I’ve even left. Predictable.