Psycho (Necessary Evils Book 2), page 5
August shrugged. “Why would I? I’ve never wanted a relationship. Until now. I went there last night to tell him that.”
“And how did he react?” Noah prompted.
August grinned. “He pulled a knife on me.”
Archer snickered. “Smart man. I like him already.”
“Is that why there’s blood all over your shirt?” Noah asked. “He stabbed you?”
August frowned. “Not exactly. I did it.”
Noah’s mouth fell open. “You stabbed yourself? You need to start at the beginning.”
August did his best to recall all the details of the night before. When he was done, he found himself staring at three dumbfounded faces. “Well, help me.”
“Dude, you broke into a stranger’s house, told him you were Batman, kissed him, impaled yourself on a blade, and then asked to spend the night. I don’t know that God could help you,” Noah said.
“I don’t ever want to hear that I’m bad at romance,” Adam told Noah, expression smug.
Noah grinned and patted his cheek before turning back to August. “Okay, so, this isn’t that bad.” At the others’ incredulous looks, he said, “Okay, it’s a little bad.” When they continued to blink at him, he blurted, “Okay, it’s really bad, but we can fix it.”
“How? How do I fix this?” August asked, genuinely wanting to make things right. He wanted Lucas to be excited to see him, not terrified of him.
“Well, to start, you have to be more Bruce Wayne and less Batman,” Noah said.
August frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”
Noah blew out an exasperated breath. “It means less creepy vigilante and more suave billionaire.”
“August? Suave? Good luck,” Archer quipped.
Noah glared at Archer. “Unhelpful, dude,” To August, he said, “Okay, so maybe not suave but, like, sincere. Do nice things for him. Find out what he likes. Bring him coffee. Ask him on a real date.”
What nice thing could August do for Lucas? He didn’t even know him, knew nothing about him, except that he smelled like rain and spice and looked soft and vulnerable when he slept and that August had watched him drool on his arm that morning and found it…comforting. “I want to keep him.”
“Bruh. Those are thinking thoughts not speaking thoughts,” Noah coached. “You can’t just go around telling strangers you’ve imprinted on them like some werewolf in a Twilight movie. They won’t get it.”
August shrugged. “He already knows I’m a psychopath.”
Noah bobbed his head. “I mean, that’s good. Congrats on that first hurdle. But it’s a long way between knowing you’re a psychopath and wanting to spend his life with one. He’s a former FBI agent and you’re a murderer. As far as relationship issues go, I’d say this is like the Montagues versus the Capulets on steroids. It’s kind of a big hurdle and you could both end up dead.”
Something twisted inside August. “You don’t think he’d want somebody like me.”
“We didn’t say that,” Noah soothed.
“I’m saying it. No fucking way. Not a chance in hell,” Archer muttered. “Do you have any booze in this place?”
“Noah has his emotional support vodka in the freezer,” Adam said, pointing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen.
Noah’s lip curled, glaring at Archer. “It’s not even nine in the morning.”
“I haven’t been to bed yet, so it doesn’t count,” Archer said, taking the bottle and pouring himself a healthy dose into an orange juice glass.
“I think you have a chance,” Adam said, patting August’s hand stiffly.
“That!” Noah said. “That right there. You guys have got to work on looking more like people and less like…cyborgs pretending to be people. Adam needs to work on his fake empathy face and you have to learn to smile without looking like a fucking supervillain.”
August blinked at him. “I smile like a supervillain?”
“You smile at the wrong things, at the wrong time. You’re never happier than when you’re about to kill somebody or when you’re thinking of killing somebody. You have to work on that. Smile less.” August wiped all expression from his face. “Yeah, okay, that’s not going to work either.”
August flopped back in his chair. “This would be a lot easier if I could just club him over the head and drag him back to my cave.”
“You know what,” Noah said, “fuck everything I just said. If Lucas is going to like you, he’s going to have to take you as you are. Just show him who you are without a knife in your hand. Show him the things you like outside of murder.”
What did August like better than murder? Music. Silent movies. That wasn’t really enough to build a relationship on.
Archer gave August a wolfish grin. “In other words, you’re doomed.”
Noah threw a fork at him. “Shut up. You’ve never had a relationship with anything that didn’t have an alcohol percentage on the label.”
“Touché,” Archer said, raising his glass in a mock salute.
How did he show Lucas what he liked outside of murder? What did he like? Would Lucas still want him when he realized August was put together all wrong? In every way. “What about sex?”
Archer spit his drink onto the table with a laugh, shaking his now wet hand.
Noah glared at the man before giving August a patient look. “What about it?”
“How do I get him to like the things I like…sexually?”
“I’m shocked you’ve even had sex,” Adam said, sounding genuinely surprised and a little relieved.
August frowned. “Why’s that?”
“You’re creepy, bro. What person is going to have sex with you without wondering if you’re going to turn them into a lamp shade when it’s over?” Noah slapped Adam’s arm hard enough to make him flinch. “What? He asked.”
August shrugged. “I usually use sex workers. It makes things less complicated. They don’t ask questions and they’re discreet.”
Noah began to squirm but looked determined. “Okay, so you’re not a virgin. Win. Why wouldn’t Lucas like what you like sexually? Are you into some weird fetishes? Necrophilia or, like, licking feet?”
“A foot fetish comes after necrophilia for you?” Adam asked, chuckling.
Noah glared at Adam. “Shut up.” He looked back to August. “Seriously, what is it you worry he won’t be into?”
“I like…” He struggled to put a name to it that didn’t make him sound even creepier than they already found him. “A power exchange.”
“BDSM?” Noah asked, shoulders sinking in relief. “Oh, thank God, it’s something normal. Like, I can’t guarantee he wants to be spanked or tied up or whatever, but you could always just have the conversation whenever you get there.”
August clearly wasn’t explaining himself correctly. A problem he’d never had before. “What if I want him to do those things to me?”
Noah’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Oh.”
“I did not see that one coming,” Adam said.
“I totally did,” Archer muttered, pouring himself another serving of vodka.
“You still need to talk about it—with him. But maybe you should worry about getting him to like you before you worry too much about getting him to spank you.”
Archer scoffed. “I’m not drunk enough for this conversation.”
“Me either,” Adam said, reaching for the vodka bottle.
Noah smacked his hand away. “You haven’t even had breakfast this morning.”
That. Whatever that was. That was what August wanted. With Lucas. A total stranger. It made no sense, and he couldn’t describe it to another living soul with any elegance, but he wanted a person of his own. He wanted Lucas to be his person. But Noah was right. August was weird and off-putting and he said and did everything wrong. How did he make Lucas see that August couldn’t love him but he could protect him? Keep him safe.
He left Adam’s house with a promise to keep Noah apprised of the situation as it unfolded. The moment he slid into the driver’s seat, he pulled up Google and typed in books on relationships, choosing the first one called The Five Love Languages. August was great at languages. He spoke seven. How hard could it be to learn five more?
He sat in his car scrolling page after page, learning about acts of service, quality time, words of affirmation, receiving gifts, and physical touch. He wanted to touch Lucas and wanted Lucas to touch him, too. But he needed to start small.
Coffee. August could do coffee. He loved coffee. Did Lucas love coffee? He drove back to Lucas’s apartment, breaking into his house once more. Lucas was gone, a half eaten piece of toast sitting on the counter and a full thermos left beside it as if he’d left in a hurry, too distracted to remember to grab it.
August continued to prowl around, opening the kitchen cabinets, pausing when he saw the numerous medicine bottles on the bottom shelf. There were mood stabilizers and antidepressants, anti-anxiety meds, and painkillers. Something bad had happened to Lucas, and August was determined to find out what it was.
In a spare bedroom, he hit pay dirt; a thick file folder sat on a desk. Inside sat a stack of missing person posters, several neatly written notes, and a photo of a man in an FBI jacket with a lanyard around his neck that stated he was Special Agent Laurence Kohn. Across that photo somebody had written one word in blood red marker.
GUILTY
Guilty of what? What had happened to Lucas that made him wake up every night screaming? What could have caused a man who had lived with a burden like being clairvoyant to suddenly snap after years with the FBI? Who the fuck was Special Agent Laurence Kohn, and what was he guilty of?
August pulled his phone out and began to snap pictures of the missing person photos. They were all women, all indigenous. The youngest appeared to be barely thirteen, the oldest forty-five. Had Lucas stumbled upon a serial predator? Was that predator a fellow agent? That would be enough to drive anybody over the edge. Had Lucas realized it with just a touch like he had August? No wonder Lucas had been terrified of him.
He put the folder back where he found it and made to leave. He was going to bring Lucas’s thermos but thought better of it, returning the apartment to exactly as Lucas left it before locking up and heading back downstairs. At the base of the stairs, there were businesses on either side. To the left was the near empty coffee shop he’d seen when he’d arrived. Coffee.
Inside was a girl with pink hair and a nose ring, scrolling through her phone. She perked up when she saw she had a customer. When August got to the counter, he smiled, doing his best to make sure he wasn’t smiling like a supervillain. It must have worked because she didn’t look spooked like strangers usually did.
“What can I get you?” she asked.
That was a good question. He had no idea how Lucas took his coffee or even if it had been coffee in the thermos. With the meds he was on, caffeine wasn’t good for him.
Still, there was always decaf. “Weird question, but do you know the man who lives upstairs? Six foot, blond hair, pretty eyes?”
The girl grinned. “Lucas?”
August nodded, relieved. “Yes. I don’t suppose you know his coffee order?”
The girl examined him closely. “Yeah. He gets the same thing every day.”
Damn. Maybe he’d already had his coffee. “Did he come in this morning?”
The girl’s brow wrinkled. “Actually, no. Kind of weird.”
“Would you get him whatever his usual is?” he asked. “But make it decaf.” When she frowned, he added, “I’m worried about his stress levels.”
She gave him a simpering look, like she thought he was sweet. That boded well, he supposed. “He your boyfriend or something?”
August sighed. “Not yet. I’m trying to find out his love language.”
The girl nodded. “Right on. Acts of service. Good start.”
“Thanks.”
She gave him a conspiratorial look. “You should write something cute and flirty on the cup.”
August’s brain short-circuited. “Like what? I’m really bad at dating.”
A devious grin crossed her face. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course not. I don’t even know you. But you’re bound to write something better than I would. I’d probably tell him I like the way his atoms are put together or something.”
The girl pouted. “Aw, that’s so nerdy and cute. But let’s try something a little flirtier.”
With coffee and a chocolate chip muffin in hand, August gave a wave. “Thank you.”
“I’m Cricket, by the way,” she called as he pushed the door open.
“August.”
She smiled again. “Nice to meet you, August.”
“You too.”
Lucas wasn’t in his office, so August made his way across campus to the Social Sciences wing. Lucas was sitting at his desk in front of a large projection screen, and students were just starting to filter in and find their seats in the stadium-like seating.
Lucas looked sexy as hell in an olive green sweater the same color as his eyes, his blond hair just messy enough to look deliberate. The students noticed his good looks, too. Girls giggled and pointed, whispering to each other. It made him want to cut off their ponytails.
Lucas looked up in surprise when August reached his desk. “Hi.”
“Hi. I brought you breakfast,” August said, setting his goodies on the desk.
Lucas gave him a somewhat bemused smile. “I said no breakfast.”
August shook his head. “No, you said I couldn’t take you to breakfast. You never said I couldn’t bring breakfast to you.”
Lucas paused, but then nodded. “Oh. I suppose you’re right.”
“I got your order from Cricket downstairs. But it’s decaf.”
Lucas frowned. “Decaf? Why?”
“I saw you take Effexor. Both caffeine and Effexor can increase your blood pressure, and you’re already under a great deal of stress.”
August hoped Lucas would see this as what it was: his attempt to take care of him.
“How do you know what meds I take?” Lucas asked, taking a tentative sip of his coffee.
“Oh. I broke into your apartment this morning and looked around.”
Lucas gave a heavy sigh, opening the pastry bag and pulling out the muffin. “Of course, you did. I should just give you a key.”
“That would make it much less time consuming,” August agreed. “Can I take you to lunch later?”
Lucas laughed, shaking his head. “No.”
“Can I bring lunch to you later?” August tried again.
Lucas rolled his eyes but smiled like he couldn’t help himself. “Maybe.”
August grinned. “I’ll see you at one.”
“I didn’t say yes,” Lucas called after him.
“But you also didn’t say no,” August pointed out, turning and leaving before Lucas rectified that.
He had three classes before their ‘maybe’ date. He didn’t know if he could wait that long to see Lucas again, but he’d try. In the meantime, he needed to have Calliope deep dive into Laurence Kohn. Had he hurt Lucas? August would happily rip this Kohn guy’s tongue out if it made Lucas happy.
Was murder an act of service?
August was gone before Lucas really had a chance to look at the to go cup and realize there was writing on it.
I hope your day is as nice as your ass.
Lucas found himself smiling, ignoring the voice in his head screaming he clearly had a death wish. Maybe he did. It was no secret that August was dangerous. A killer. A man who had tortured countless men. He could decorate a stadium with all the red flags August had waved.
He’d broken into Lucas’s apartment—twice—watched him sleep, gone through his things, looked at his endless medication regimen. Lucas should have felt violated, indignant, angry. Instead, he was relieved. He wouldn’t have to explain himself to August. He already knew Lucas’s deep, dark secret and hadn’t run screaming in the other direction.
Because he’s a murderer.
Nobody’s perfect, right?
Lucas snickered at his own nihilistic thoughts. He had spent most of his life believing there were only two sides. Good and evil. Black and white. And all that thinking had done was leave him with a false sense of security and a piece of glass buried in his shoulder.
Now, he wasn’t sure what he believed. Kohn was out there. Kidnapping. Raping. Torturing women society had forgotten. When Lucas had done the right thing, gone through the proper channels, he’d almost been killed for his trouble. Women had lost their lives.
So, what was Lucas supposed to do now? When a person had exhausted every conceivable legal way to keep society safe, what was left except people like August? Wasn’t it better to kill one man to save a hundred more potential victims?
Maybe he was just rationalizing. Maybe he’d fallen so far into rock bottom he was willing to dismiss the crimes of a vicious psychopath just to feel normal in his own skin. He missed the person he used to be. Confident. Funny. Cocky even. A year ago, Lucas had thought he had the world figured out until one touch had confirmed he was a fool. Now, he had no idea what to think.
August was a depraved killer, who seemed to enjoy torturing people. But he also had a strict moral code. And yeah, he was weirdly honest and inadvertently funny and sexy as hell, especially when he had looked at Lucas with that raw intensity, like nobody else in the world existed but him.
But no matter how he looked at it, August was the villain, Batman or no. Still, the devil he knew had to be better than the devil he didn’t. Especially if that devil was on Lucas’s side. As much as Lucas hated to admit it, he’d already made up his mind about August. He’d let August do whatever he wanted, even to his own detriment.
There was no longer any part of Lucas that felt safe in this world. Kohn would come for him eventually. He’d made no secret of all the horrors he planned to inflict on Lucas for attempting to ruin his plans. He might as well enjoy his time on the planet while he could.
