Page 65 of Psycho Sinners

My breath caught in my chest as realization washed over me. No wonder he was such an unhinged mess tonight. Not that that gave him any right for the shit he'd done.

He shook his head, as if to clear the memories, his gaze dropping to my hand. I followed it down to my engagement ring still glinting dully on my finger.

"You should take that off," he said, his voice flat now. "There's nothing left for you there."

I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him he didn't get to decide that for me, but his next words made me freeze.

"I can chop the whole finger off if you want."

My eyes widened at the dark suggestion, his expression unreadable. Was he serious? The violent glint in his eyes said he might be.

Instinctively, I curled my hand into a fist, shielding the ring from his view as I took a step back.

"I keep it as a reminder to never trust any man who says he loves you. To never love someone again," I shot back, my voice laced with venom.

"Smart woman. Love is like handing someone a loaded gun aimed at your heart and hoping they don't decide to pull the trigger one day."

Those words chilled me, and he gave me the saddest smile.

"But, sweet Scarlet, we don't get to decide who we love. Love just happens, and it fucks you up in more ways than one."

21

SCARLET

He set the bowl down before closing the distance between us, and my heart lurched to my throat. Although the look in his eyes now, it was so broken, so defeated, and I couldn't break my gaze away. It was like the insane, chaotic side he reveled in had slipped away, a tired, shattered man now in his stead.

"Those we love are the ones who hold the most power. The ability to completely destroy us. And some of us are stupid enough to still love them," he said darkly, his hand snapping out to catch my wrist.

I held my breath as he lifted it up, inspecting my engagement ring.

"You deserve more than this pathetic rock," he tutted. "Guess Tommy boy was just a waste of space."

"You're not wrong there," I muttered, my gaze glued to his, waiting with bated breath for his demeanor to shift.

I was not expecting him to break into a wide grin. "Want to bake brownies with me? I was making them."

I nodded slowly, knowing I looked confused as all hell at his sudden shift once more. Maybe he was bipolar or some shit? Split personalities? "Sure, why not? Baking is...therapeutic."

He grinned wickedly at that. "Excellent. We'll make a mess of this place."

He released my wrist and spun around, marching back over to the bowl, pausing only to beckon me over like an excited child. He then pulled out a small baggie of green herbs from one of the drawers that immediately had my nose wrinkling.

"A special ingredient," he said with a wink. "Gotta embrace the chaos, right kitten?"

I rolled my eyes but didn't protest as he mixed the pot into the batter. We took turns stirring, not that it was a two person job, but he continued to thrust the bowl my way after some whisking, and I humored him. It was like he had reverted to a cheery little child, and I couldn't help but just go along with it. It was better than the alternative. The thick chocolatey mixture was soon poured into a pan and shoved into the oven, and I leaned on the counter, the slightest bit eager for some pot brownies. Pot mellowed everyone out, and I wondered if it'd do the same to him.

As it baked, filling the air with a rich aroma, Cristian flicked a clump of the batter at me after he'd licked the spoon clean.

"Real mature," I deadpanned, though I couldn't stop the tiny smirk tugging at my lips. He grinned like a damn child, and I glanced around, reaching for the nearest thing. I laughed as I retaliated by chucking an egg at him, and he barked out a laugh as it sailed past him and smashed on the floor.

It devolved into an all-out food fight, our laughter echoing through the kitchen as flour and batter remnants went everywhere. For just a few unguarded moments, it was like we were just two people being silly and stupid - not captive and captor. When the timer dinged, we were both streaked with batter and giggling breathlessly.

I had absolute problems if I was willing to let go with the man who'd slipped a knife into my little lady, and the thought sobered me up.

"Eat some with me, Scarlet?" he asked, offering me a genuine smile, like what he'd done to me earlier had just been a bizarre nightmare and not reality. How could he think I'd truly be fine with being normal with him?

He was truly fucked up, but then again, that meant all the more reason to just go along with it, keep him content and relaxed.