Page 11 of Psycho Saints

I held his gaze, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. The truth was, I didn't know. The idea of being pregnant terrified me, but the thought of ending a potential life left me feeling… hollow. I remained silent, unable to give him an answer I didn't have myself.

Julian returned then, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and a plate of cookies. He glanced between Tyrone and me, an unspoken question passing between the brothers. Julian's expression hardened, and Tyrone nodded.

"You should go, Tyrone, I’ll handle this," Julian said, setting the tray down on the nightstand. His voice was low, the edge to it clear. Tyrone nodded, standing up without a word. As he left the room, he cast one last look at me over his shoulder, a silent vow to make things right.

Julian turned to me, his mask of calm firmly back in place. "Drink," he ordered gently, handing me one of the mugs. "You'll feel better."

I obeyed, sipping the hot chocolate as Julian climbed into bed beside me. With Kenny on one side and Julian on the other, I felt, for just a moment, like I was safe. But it was a moment I clung to, a shred of hope in a world turned upside down. And as Julian wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close, I let myself pretend that this was my sanctuary, a safe haven amidst the nightmare.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift off into a fitful sleep, my mind and body spent.

6

SCARLET

The days bled into one another, a hazy blur of confinement and conflicting emotions. I found myself drifting through the hours, seeking solace in the mindless flicker of the TV screen. Movies became my escape, a window to worlds beyond these suffocating walls.

Julian's presence became a constant, a lifeline I clung to in my isolation. We'd play board games, or just sit curled on the couch, the TV a background noise as he regaled me with stories from his past. I learned of his childhood adventures, the mischief he and his brothers got into. It was strange, hearing him speak of Cristian with fondness, when the mere thought of him made me uneasy.

It was one of these moments that revealed more about the brothers. Julian's fingers had danced across the chessboard, his brow furrowed in concentration. The silence between us felt comfortable.

"Checkmate," he announced with a grin.

I groaned, tipping over my king. "That's what, five games in a row now?"

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "What can I say? Strategy's in my blood."

"Speaking of blood," I began, curiosity getting the better of me. "You mentioned your dad taught you guys to shoot earlier. How old were you?" I'd asked who'd taught them, wondering if their father had enlisted someone or done it himself, and Julian had answered honestly.

Julian pondered the question for a moment before clicking his tongue. "I was eight when Dad first took us to the range. Dad believed in starting young."

"That's... young," I murmured, trying to picture child versions of the Silvestri brothers wielding guns.

"It was normal for us," Julian shrugged. "By twelve, we were all fully initiated into the family business."

My eyebrows shot up. "Twelve? How the hell does that work? What do you mean by initiated?"

A shadow passed over Julian's face. "People don't suspect children as assassins."

The words hung heavy in the air between us. I shuddered as I imagined Julian, Tyrone, and Cristian as child soldiers in their family's twisted war.

"That's..." I struggled to find the right words. "That's fucked up."

"It is what it is. That's our life, pyro."

I touched my stomach, and his gaze followed the movement.

"Would that be expected of every child?" I asked, still unsure if there was a life blooming in my belly.

His eyes met mine, and he let out a heavy sigh. "This family is what it is, Scarlet. Children need to know how to protect themselves. There are those that wouldn't bat an eye murdering a child."

The words hit home, and I swallowed as Lily's cries echoed in my mind.

“There’s a big difference between knowing how to use a gun to defend yourself and being expected to assassinate,” I muttered.

“Maybe.”

He shifted the conversation after that, and we'd ended up talking about how he'd gotten Kenny. He'd found him as a stray kitten, and he shared some of the crazy antics he'd gotten up to, and how he'd put the tracking chip in him after his leash broke once when they were dealing with a warehouse issue. It'd blown up into something big, and Kenny had run off. Thankfully, to his surprise and delight, Julian had found him hiding under the car when they went to leave, as if he'd known Julian would return to it.