Page 13 of Psycho Saints

Julian chuckled. "Ty's not all bad and scary, you know. He can surprise you sometimes."

I nodded, my mind already racing with thoughts of seeing Naomi. It had been too long, and there was so much I needed to tell her. I'd not filled her in on everything with our phone calls, still processing it all myself. A day of pampering and girl talk sounded like heaven after weeks of confinement.

"I think I'll try to catch him and thank him properly," I said as I stood and headed for the bedroom door.

Julian nodded and moved to the bed, stroking Kenny as his focus returned to his laptop.

I couldn't shake the feeling that this gesture from Tyrone meant something. Was it a peace offering? A way to keep me complacent? Or was there something more to it?

Whatever the reason, I was grateful for the chance to see Naomi, and I wanted to thank him properly.

I hurried down the stairs, my heart racing with a mix of gratitude and apprehension. I found Tyrone in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid caught the light as he turned to face me.

"Tyrone," I began, my voice softer than I'd intended. "I wanted to thank you again. For tomorrow, I mean. It means a lot."

He nodded, his dark eyes unreadable. "How are you feeling?"

His gaze dropped to my stomach, and I felt a flutter of nervousness. They hadn't touched me sexually since that day with Cristian, and I wasn't sure if I was relieved or unsettled by it.

"I feel fine," I said, then hesitated. "My period's due next week, and normally my boobs are sore before that."

Tyrone arched a brow. "And are they?"

"No," I admitted, crossing my arms over my chest self-consciously.

He nodded and sipped his drink, looking thoughtful. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words. My mind moved to the one thing I'd been thinking about for the past several days now, and I knew it was time to finally ask. Sitting and pretending that Cristian no longer existed was not the way to handle what had happened. Besides, I wanted to know what had happened. I took a deep breath, steeling myself as Tyrone studied me.

"What's happened to Cristian?" I finally asked the question that had been burning inside me for days.

Tyrone's jaw tightened. "I found him."

"And?" I pressed carefully, bracing myself for the answer.

"Things got physical," he said, his voice low and controlled. "He's staying at one of our other places."

I nodded, a flicker of guilt hitting me at knowing Tyrone had beaten his brother. At least, that's what I was assuming, especially since he had no injuries himself in the past several days since Cristian's departure. I shoved the guilt down, reminding myself of what Cristian had done.

"He knows what he did was wrong," Tyrone added, but I couldn't help but scoff.

"The way he thinks isn't like a normal, sane person," Tyrone continued, and sighed heavily as he shook his head. "His brain is... broken, after his injury."

I gritted my teeth, the reminder hitting hard. I knew Cristian was messed up, and had known it for a while now. The guilt returned, creeping in at the edges of my consciousness. What had he been thinking at that moment when he'd attacked me? How had his mind warped it into being something he thought was right?

"I know he's not... right," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "But that doesn't excuse what he did."

Tyrone nodded, his expression grave. "No, it doesn't. But it might help explain it."

I leaned against the kitchen counter, suddenly feeling exhausted. I'd spent the past several days, hell, nearly a week now if I thought about it, mulling over him and what he'd done, the two sides of him that I'd been privy to. How twisted and wild he was. "I just... I don't know how to feel about any of this anymore."

Tyrone's dark eyes held mine, his expression unreadable. "Cristian is... difficult to predict and understand. But family is everything to him. Even though he's gone about this all wrong, hurt you emotionally, mentally, and physically, he does actually care for you."

I scoffed and shook my head at his words.

"I know it's hard to believe," Tyrone said, his voice low. "But in his own twisted way, he does."

I turned away, unable to look at him anymore. My mind raced, replaying moments with Cristian. The gentle way he'd stroke my hair, the passionate kisses, the pet names he'd use. But then came the flashes of violence, the possessiveness, the disregard for my autonomy.

"I find it hard to believe," I muttered, more to myself than to Tyrone. But even as I said it, doubt crept in. I thought back to the times when Cristian had been gentle, almost loving. The way he'd look at me sometimes, like I was the most precious thing in the world.