Psycho by Onley James

Like the day before, August was gone before Lucas woke, but there was a note on his pillow that said, ‘Check your phone.’ Lucas stretched until his joints popped, a smile forming as he rolled to grab said phone from the charger.

He found a text from August. Attached was a picture of Lucas, sprawled out, arms and legs askew, mouth gaping. August captioned it: You’re sexy when you’re sleeping.

Lucas’s smile widened. Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.

August: Lunch later?

Lucas: Can’t. I have a meeting with Brenner. Dinner?

The three dots danced.I have a thing early this evening. But I can come over after? Dessert?

August was all the dessert Lucas cared about in that moment. Definitely.

August: Have a good day.

Lucas stared at the ceiling for a good five minutes with a goofy smile on his face. Brenner was the head of the psychology department, and meetings with him were about as exciting as watching CSPAN—if CSPAN had a thing for collecting antique dolls. There was an old saying that only crazy people went into psych. They were likely talking about Brenner.

After he showered and changed, he hit the coffee shop below, finding Cricket in her usual spot. Her hair was purple today. She looked genuinely excited to see him. “Hi, Lucas.”

“Hey, Cricket.”

Lucas imagined the quiet shop was boring. The Starbucks that had just opened a block away had stolen the small coffee shop’s morning rush, which was great for Lucas and the others in their building but probably not for the owners.

She turned and started making his usual without being prompted. “I saw your boyfriend this morning,” she teased, throwing a sly look over her shoulder.

Lucas felt his cheeks pinking. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Cricket snorted. “Don’t tell him that.”

Lucas snickered. August was persistent. And sweet and charming. And a murderer. It was worrisome how that detail bothered him less and less with each passing moment. August was a good man. Could somebody say that about a person who admitted to wanting to torture people? Was Lucas just pushing his moral line further towards darkness to justify crushing on an actual serial killer? Would it matter? Three days in and Lucas was too far gone to even care.

“It wouldn’t matter if I did. He’s pretty stubborn,” Lucas admitted, unable to hide how much he liked that about August.

Cricket handed Lucas his coffee cup and his chocolate chip muffin. “I know. He already paid for your breakfast and gave me a twenty dollar tip for giving you decaf, even if you didn’t ask for it.”

This time, it was Lucas who snorted. “Yeah, he’s impossible. So, this is decaf?” he asked, holding up the cup.

“I couldn’t take his money and not give you decaf. That would be dishonest,” Cricket said. “But the saying was all him.”

Lucas frowned, turning the cup to see a masculine scrawl on the cup.

Even if there was no gravity, I’d still fall for you.

Lucas’s heartbeat skipped. “He’s ridiculous.”

“He’s smitten,” Cricket corrected. “He’s also smoking hot. You two would make a super sexy couple. Like Lance Bass and his husband but, like, nerdy hot. Way better than that other guy.”

Lucas took a sip of his coffee, wincing at the burn. “Other guy?”

“Yeah, the one who came in asking about you? Said he was your ex-boyfriend. Flashed his badge at me. Asked which apartment was yours.”

Lucas’s pulse skyrocketed, his fingers curling tight around the top of the paper bag. He’d been so wrapped up in the newness of August that he hadn’t given a single thought to Kohn for the first time in over a year. He’d let his guard down and now, he’d just been sucker punched.

“What did you tell him?” He hated the sharpness in his tone, but he was trying to keep his legs under him.

“I told him I’d never heard of you, and if he couldn’t figure out where you were on his own, he probably wasn’t a very good FBI guy. He gave me the creeps, though. He smiled like a reptile. Sorry if he’s actually somebody you wanted to talk to, but there was just…something about him.”

“No. You did the right thing.” He pulled out his business card, taking the pen from the cup on the counter, circling his cell phone number. “Listen, if he comes back or you see him poking around, can you text me?”

Cricket leaned across the counter, flicking Lucas’s card. “Is he really your ex-boyfriend?”

“No. Not even close. If you see him around, just let me know. But stay away from him. He’s a really bad guy. Okay?” Lucas held up a twenty dollar bill and placed it in the cup.

“Damn, you and your not-boyfriend are paying my rent this month.”

Lucas gave her a smile but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. He’d known this would happen. It was only a matter of time. Still, some part of him had hoped Kohn would be too afraid to try it. Hoped they would have at least taken some of Lucas’s visions seriously.

Had Kohn taken a break from stalking and killing women to chase down Lucas? Was his partner picking up the slack while he was gone? The thought of women being hurt because Lucas couldn’t convince the right people he wasn’t crazy made him feel like he’d swallowed battery acid. If he could have just found one solid piece of evidence, anything that could have backed up his vision…

But Kohn was too good for that and had used his position to create a safety net between the authorities and his victims. Unlike most serial killers, he was cunning as well as sadistic. Lucas knew if Kohn had a partner, that partner was much less likely to be the ringleader. They would have a lower IQ, defer to Kohn. They were basically a subordinate or acolyte. Somebody who almost worshipped Kohn.

But then there was the mask. Was that who Kohn was truly hiding from? Maybe his partner didn’t know who he really was? That would afford him a level of safety. Still, Lucas’s vision never showed a third party when he was in that room with his victims. Maybe he was filming himself? But even then, why hide? Most serial killers were notoriously proud of their kills. It wasn’t like he was sending the videos to the police. No, Lucas was his sole focus.

August was right. Lucas needed help. He was no closer to unraveling this mystery and he no longer had the FBI’s resources. Whoever this Calliope was, she had to have better access than Lucas currently had. He’d ask August tonight. The thought of seeing August sent a bolt of lightning through his dick. He tried not to think about August and his insanely talented tongue or the way he’d held Lucas’s wrist as he’d sucked him off.

“Morning.”

Lucas pulled himself from his dirty thoughts to look around for the voice. It was the woman whose office was across from his. Belinda? Bianca? Something with a B. She was locking up her office, bag thrown over her shoulder, probably heading to her morning class. She studied him with an eerie intensity that made him want to cover his crotch, like she could see his dirty thoughts about August.

“Morning,” he managed.

She gave him a tight smile and a curt nod before taking off down the hall, her low heels clicking as she walked. Lucas listened until the sound faded away entirely before fishing for the key to his office door. When he turned the key in the lock, he realized there was no click. His door was unlocked.

He frowned, pushing open the door. Everything was as he’d left it, not a thing out of place. He hung his bag on the coat rack behind his door, doing one more sweep across his office, before finally dropping into his leather chair, gaze falling to a message scrawled on a yellow sticky note.

I MISS YOU.

Lucas rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. Of course, August had broken into his office. It was entirely something he would do. He left the sticky as it was, opening the bag from the coffee shop and taking a bite of the huge muffin. He was suddenly starving. He was about halfway through his breakfast when he saw it: August’s scrawled message on his cup.

Lucas’s gaze fell to the note, then back to the cup. The handwriting was not the same. Not even remotely. The sticky note was written all in caps, with a heavy hand. August’s writing was as chaotic as he was, words slanting, letters crowded. The ink on the cup wasn’t Cricket’s either. She wrote in funky block letters, nothing like either of the notes before him.

Lucas couldn’t tear his gaze from the note. He stared at the yellow sticky like it was a venomous snake, poised to strike. He wanted to crumple it up and toss it in the trash, forget about Kohn and his crimes. Nobody believed Lucas anyway. Maybe he should just let August do what he did? But that wouldn’t stop Kohn’s partner or rescue any possible victims they might be holding—hurting—even as he sat there. He couldn’t sacrifice them out of some sense of greater good.

As Lucas gazed at the Post-it, he wondered...could he pull anything from it if he dropped his shields? If Kohn’s feelings or emotions were strong enough, even if he’d only held it for a moment, it might be enough for him to see something. He glanced at his closed office door. Nobody was likely to disturb him.

After another bite of his muffin and a sip of his lukewarm coffee, Lucas dropped his shields, opening himself, taking a few deep breaths so he was relaxed enough to see even the slightest shred of evidence left on the Post-it. He hated how badly his hands shook as he reached for the stupid piece of paper.

The moment he touched it, a gasp ripped from his lungs. Screaming. Terror. Pain. So much pain. Blood. The buzzing of something electrical. That weird fucking red glow. A girl strapped to a chair, leather binding her wrists and across her forehead. Letters carved into her skin. Three letters. I-C-U.

I see you.

“Lucas? Lucas!”

Lucas’s eyes snapped open to see August on his knees before him. They were both on the floor. How had he gotten on the floor? August’s hands were cupping his face, and they felt cold against his heated skin. Pain flooded Lucas’s senses, making him feel dizzy and feverish. It hurt so bad. Everything hurt. His muscles, his skin, his insides. But more than that, his heart hurt. The girl had been filled with this overwhelming sense of dread and despair. Resigned to the rest of her short life being filled with agony.

“He set me up,” Lucas managed between chattering teeth.

“What? Who did? Kohn? He was here?”

Lucas couldn’t answer. When August sat beside him, Lucas curled against him, tucking himself under August’s arm. His mouth was so dry, his lips cracked and bleeding. His eyes hurt. Why did his eyes hurt? He couldn’t feel his hands. It was the straps. The ones across his forearms… They were cutting off his circulation. There was so much pain, his brain tried to reject it, losing consciousness, only to drag him to the surface of that pain once more.

August squeezed him against him. The pain began to fade, his hammering heart slowing as the dingy box of torture was replaced with a frozen lake and silence. Blissful silence. He could feel the frigid air on his face, the stillness of the space. It was vast and isolated, nothing around for miles, except for the occasional whistle of the wind through the empty branches of the trees.

“What did you do?” Lucas mumbled.

“Is it working?”

“Yes,” Lucas said, still looking out over desolate wilderness. August was there, standing behind him, arms around him, chin hooked over his shoulder. “This shouldn’t be possible.”

“Why?” August asked, his breath hot against Lucas’s ear. “If you receive impressions from the things you touch, there’s no reason why I can’t control what you see when you’re touching me. It’s just science.”

Just science. Not according to anybody who knew what Lucas could do. They didn’t think it was science. They thought he was crazy. A liar. Only August seemed to truly embrace Lucas’s gift. Even though that gift had revealed August’s biggest secret. A secret that seemed smaller with each passing day.

If Kohn had taught Lucas anything, it was that some people didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as others. That the world would be a safer place with them gone. August and his family provided a service. They kept people safe. Maybe he was rationalizing. Maybe he just wanted August so bad he was willing to do whatever mental gymnastics allowed him to keep the other man, but he didn’t care.

Life was short. Kohn was determined to make Lucas’s life hell—to torture him until he tired of their game—and then kill him. Maybe August would save him, maybe not. Lucas had no doubt August could save himself, but he wasn’t sure he could save them both. Lucas was determined to soak up whatever time with August he could. Time didn’t mean much when it was borrowed. They were living their lives on some kind of accelerated timeline, hurtling through every milestone at light speed.

Lips pressed against the top of his head. “Do you feel better now?”

Lucas closed his eyes, leaning against August’s weight. “Yes. I think so.”

“Do you want to stay here another minute?”

Lucas studied the icicles hanging from the barren branches. “Yes. Please.”

As time ticked by, Lucas’s pulse slowed, his body temperature returning to normal, the pain and sadness seeping away. When he finally blinked his eyes open to his dimly lit office, it was disorienting, like tripping and falling down a hole, finding himself in an unexpected place.

August stood, pulling Lucas to his feet and leading him to the sofa, the same sofa they’d made out on just yesterday. Had it only been yesterday?

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Kohn’s fucking with me,” Lucas managed, voice raw.

August grimaced. “I gathered, but how?”

Lucas recounted his conversation with Cricket as well as the sticky note incident, relieved when August just accepted him at his word. No matter how accepting August was of Lucas’s talents, there was always the underlying fear he’d stop believing.

“I’m canceling my plans for the night.”

Lucas shook his head. “No, you’re not. You can’t spend your whole life as my bodyguard. We have classes, you have your…volunteer work. I can’t hide away or Kohn wins anyway.”

August’s mouth was a hard line, his breath blowing out through his nose like an angry bull. “I’m going to kill this man, slowly and with as much pain as I can manage. I need you to know that. When it’s all over and we get to the bottom of his serial killing duo, I’m going to skin him alive.”

Lucas should have been repulsed by the venom in August’s words, but they soothed his frayed nerves. “I’ll watch. I just want to make sure those girls are safe. The things he was doing…”

“I’m not like him,” August said.

Lucas’s head jerked up. “What?”

August scanned Lucas’s face. “I need you to know that. I need you to know that I’m not like him.”

Lucas cupped August’s face. “I do know that. The day I met you, I might have panicked, but even when you broke into my home, some part of me knew you weren’t the same.”

August leaned forward, his lips fitting with Lucas’s in a kiss that lingered. Lucas opened his mouth, moaning when August’s tongue dipped inside. He tasted like coffee. “I’m still making sure somebody is there to look out for you tonight,” August said against his lips.

“Somebody like who?” Lucas asked, dreading the idea of another stranger traipsing through his home.

“I’ll figure it out.”

Lucas looked at his watch; he didn’t have time to argue. “We’re both very late for our first class.”

August hesitated. “If anything happens, you text me right away. I don’t care if I’m teaching or not.” Lucas nodded, but that didn’t seem enough. “I need you to promise me.”

“I promise,” Lucas said. “Can we go do our jobs now?”

August slanted his mouth across Lucas’s in a kiss that curled his toes before standing. “Text me. Even if nothing happens. Just…text me.”

Lucas smiled. “I will. Now, go to class.”

August seemed torn but then finally left, leaving Lucas sprawled on the couch. What would have happened if August hadn’t decided to visit him that morning? Kohn had left that note for him like a dirty bomb, knowing Lucas would try to use it to get into his head. Fuck. Why was it that the only two people who believed he could do what he did were two psychopaths?

August said he and Kohn were nothing alike, but that wasn’t exactly true. They were mirror images of each other, yin and yang, dark and light, fire and ice…the very best and worst of what could happen to a person who couldn’t feel guilt or remorse. A person who reveled in the pain of others.

Lucas dug his palms into his eyes, trying to shake off the morning. He had a full class and, by now, they were likely watching the clock, tempted to dip out before he arrived.

Kohn was future Lucas’s problem. Right now, he just had to get through his day.

Alive.