Page 110 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

“She found out what you’d become to me. How I felt about you. She found out what I did to the boy who tripped you one day after kindergarten.” He closes his eyes, then adds, “She found out what I was planning to do to your dad.”

I yank my fingers away from his skin, eyes wide. “W-what?” I ask softly. “What do you⁠—”

“You think I would just continue to let him hurt you? You think I was going to sit there and let your mother bring you back to him, day after day?” He sneers his reply, and yet again his gaze is holding mine, not letting me go. “I’m not much for fire, Winnie, but when I was twelve, that seemed like the easiest way to get rid of them for you. My mom would’ve taken you in; we both know that. You would’ve been safe in my house with me.”

I can’t help the tremors that run from my head to my fingertips when he says that last part, and I’m completely at a loss for words. All I can do is stay trapped by his gaze, my heart racing like a frightened rabbit in my chest, seeking any escape it can from under the cage of my ribs.

“We were kids, though,” I find myself murmuring. “You didn’t—You barely even liked me.”

Cass sits up quickly, catching me before I can fall back. I have to adjust, sitting over his lap with my hands braced on his shoulders. “The first time I saw you cry, I could never look away from you again,” he growls quietly. “You were mine. Back then you were like the little sister I never wanted. The sister I needed to protect. Only I couldn’t, because you didn’t live with me. So I would’ve gotten rid of them. Your dad, your mom…Lou wasn’t on my radar. She couldn’t have taken you in back then.” He reaches up, smoothing his hands down my face as he pulls me in close until our foreheads are pressed together.

“Carissa threatened me. Said I wasn’t allowed to be around you anymore,” Cass croons with his eyes open and so intense that it’s terrifying. “She said if I didn’t leave you alone, she’d tell my mom, your mom… She’d make sure you never got to come over again. For your safety, she said,” he sneers that last part, lips twisted in disgust.

My hands are trembling. I realize it belatedly, with my fingers curled against his shoulders and nowhere to look but his eyes. “Is that…” I trail off, the words dying in my throat.

But Cass only grins, the darkness, the strangeness in his gaze returning. But this time, I know what it is.

He’s a psychopath.

That’s what I’m seeing in his eyes when he looks at me like this. His darkness, his cruelty…his obsession with me that goes past unhealthy.

Cass is crazy. I realize it now as I look into his ice-blue eyes that won’t let mine go.

“Ask me,” he prompts. “Ask me why I killed Carissa. You’re so close. I think you’ve figured it out, but I know you. You’ll make up some other excuse. You’ll give yourself a reason not to believe it, so ask me, Winnie. Let me clear things up for you once and for all.”

I can’t move. His hands on my face hold me in place, but even if they weren’t pressed to my skin, I wouldn’t be able to move anyway. Not with the way he’s looking at me. “Did you kill Carissa because she was trying to protect me from you?” I finally barely manage to ask.

His grin is immediate and twisted; menacing and definitely not pleasant. “Yes, Winnie. I killed Carissa because she wanted to keep you from me. And nothing, nothing was or is going to do that. Not your mom, not Lou”—he presses closer, until his lips brush mine—“and not even my own sister.”

21

My phone rings somewhere nearby, but it’s not enough to break me out of this moment. My mind is at war, trying to figure out if I’m terrified or something else that’s definitely not okay.

Or both.

Sure, it’s petrifying to learn Cass killed his sister to stop her from keeping me away from him. But it’s also…well, it’s also something else.

A nervous grin twitches at the corners of my mouth as I look at him, meeting his gaze as he pulls back from brushing his lips to mine. “So what you’re telling me is…you suck at planning,” I murmur, amused when I see the flood of incredulous surprise on his face, his eyes widening. “Let me finish. You decided to kill Carissa to stop her from telling everyone how messed up you were…only to get caught, thrown in a psych ward, and not get let out until you were eighteen. Is that about right?”

Cass closes his eyes with a snort. “God, Winnie,” he grumbles as my phone goes off again. “You really are such a fucking brat, you know that?”

“Well, I like to think of myself as—” The doorbell chimes, ringing through the entire two-story house. But for a moment all I do is stare at Cass, confused, as if he’ll have the answer for who’s at the door. I’m certainly not expecting any visitors, or any deliveries. I have a few hours before I need to go to the diner to work, so I’d planned to spend it in bed, sleeping, or bothering Cass.

The doorbell sounds again and I lean back, extracting myself from Cassian’s grip. “If it’s Mormon boys, I’m going to scare them away with talk of Satanism,” I mutter, pulling on a hoodie over the t-shirt and shorts I slept in. Cass snorts and flops back down on the bed.

“Can I go back to sleep now? Or are you planning on asking me more uncomfortable questions before breakfast?” He groans, burying his face in my pillow.

The sight of it brings me up short, and I realize I love the sight and the idea of Cass in my bed like this. Fuck, that has to mean there’s something really wrong with me.

He opens his eyes to look at me as the doorbell rings again, the bright blue pinning me in place. I don’t want to leave him. Especially when I’d rather go back to sleep right now, instead of being awake at all.

But the doorbell sounding again makes that impossible. I groan, tossing my head back, and turn to stomp across the landing, scooping up Doom and draping him over my shoulders as I stride heavily down the stairs. “I’m coming,” I call, when the doorbell is pushed yet again. Every time I hear it, I’m a little bit closer to kicking the person on my porch right off.

With my luck, it’s a random delivery from my mom, who still hasn’t called or really texted beyond some polite, perfunctory greetings and updates.

Like I care what her new condo looks like. She’ll certainly never invite me to it.

Absently I yank the door open, prepared to force myself to be polite to whoever is way too eager to get me here.