Page 75 of The Art of Being a Psychopath

I shrugged. “Put your knife wherever you fucking want. It’d be nice to feel something for a change.”

He shook his head, that sneer firmly imprinted on his face.

“You’re a sick motherfucker.”

I winked back at him. “But I’m your sick motherfucker.”

He took a few deep breaths, and then, in a hushed tone, he said, “If you go near her again, I swear I will end you. Send her any messages, break into her house, or even so much as breathe in her vicinity and I’ll cut your fucking heart out.” Then leaning a little closer, he added, “Even if you think about her, if her face ever crosses your mind, then my face will be the last thing you’ll ever see, right before I send you to fucking hell.”

I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. I loved it when he showed this side of him.

“Jesus, it really was love at first sight.”

“Is that what this is about?” His brows knitted together as he stared daggers at me. “Are you jealous?”

I regarded him for a moment, and then decided to give him a taste of my truth.

“You know, Alex, I’m going to be honest with you here. It’s always been you and me against the world. And I liked that. I’d never had that before. But that night, at The Void, you spent the entire show watching her. Not me. Her. It didn’t matter what I did or what I said, your gaze never wavered. I knew then that she’d be trouble. And she is trouble. Trouble that needs to be dealt with.”

“She isn’t trouble, and you’re not dealing with shit,” he growled, his fists clenching like he was ready to fight. “She’s nothing to you. You don’t even need to think about her. And as for it being us against the world, I think I deserve something more now, don’t you? I deserve a shot at something real. You don’t get to say who I spend time with. I like Emma. More than like her. I want to get to know her. Spend time with her. And I won’t stand by while you try to destroy what could be something good for me.”

I shook my head remorsefully.

“But what if I’m saving you, Alex? What if I know something you don’t know?”

“Like what?” he scoffed. “What could you possibly know about her that I don’t?”

I smirked, feeding off his anger as I toyed with him. “Or maybe I’m just messing with your head.”

“You like doing that, don’t you.”

I nodded with pride. “Your head, hers, anyone’s. Yeah, I do. It makes life a little more interesting.”

“Except I already told you, she’s off-limits.”

I rubbed my jaw as if I was considering what he’d said and whether I agreed.

“Off-limits,” I mused. “I seem to remember that being our favourite target.” And I sighed dramatically. “I miss the old days.”

Fire burned in his eyes as he tried to control himself.

“Life moves on,” he spat.

I knew that was bullshit, but I agreed. I was growing tired of arguing. He needed to leave.

“Yes, it does, and so do we. I’m really pleased to see you again, but you’ve chosen the most awkward time. I’m on a date and it’s going really well. I think she’s dying to see my apartment.”

“Date’s over,” he replied, lifting his chin defiantly.

“Really?” I pretended to look shocked. “What? No goodnight kiss? No awkward fumble in the dark hoping for more? I feel a little robbed here.”

“I always swore that I’d do right by you, and I’m a man of my word.”

“You’re a man of many words, but right now, I could really take a raincheck on hearing them.”

But he wasn’t deterred.

“I have a car outside. You’re going to leave this restaurant immediately and get into it. It’ll take you to a rehab facility, and you’ll stay there until whatever this weird, psychotic episode your currently having ends. Is that clear?”