F*ckboy Psychos by Stunich C. M

Author:Stunich, C. M. [Stunich, C. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Crime
Amazon: B0995883HP
Goodreads: 58545204
Publisher: Sarian Royal
Published: 2021-11-11T08:00:00+00:00

Scarlett

I end up not being able to hit the track on Friday or Saturday because Geneva, Anita, and my grandma all end up having to work. I stay home with Alexis, sitting on the couch and unwrapping piece after piece of Halloween candy (even though the holiday itself is still a ways away), while we watch a bunch of horror classics.

Alexis enjoys watching actors and actresses pretend to suffer onscreen. I think it distracts her from her own pain. I know it does the same for me, watching that horror happen to somebody else while I feel cozy and snug on our sofa, and we can pretend like we’re just two sisters who didn’t also have a younger brother and a pair of cousins of a similar age.

Car accidents suck.

I unwrap another piece of candy, checking my group chat with my crew to make sure nothing unusual occurs while I’m MIA. If I have to, I can rocket down there in minutes and take control of the situation.

But I trust Nisha and Basti to handle things for me.

I don’t text Bohnes to tell him why I can’t come because I blocked his number. I blocked his number even though I’ve been letting him fuck me raw and come inside of me over and over again. Why I blocked it, I hate to admit to myself. Because I like a challenge, because I want to see what he’ll do and how far he’ll go.

I tap my temple with a single nail, painted a shiny, brilliant red in honor of my name and least favorite color, and I stare at my phone screen in my lap, reading over the sea of incoming texts with an aching case of FOMO.

Dude, Jillian about to race for some Louboutins—only worn once! Farrah stole them from that shop downtown and almost got caught. LOL. She gonna be pissed if she loses!

She won’t lose—not to Jill. No way.

So you say until you realize how much she wants those damn heels.

With a scoff, I toss my phone onto the side table next to the sofa and refocus on the movie. Boring. Just the usual stuff. No Widow, no Bohnes, no Aspen Kelly … No Lemon.

I consider texting her yet again because I’m so damn worried about her, but Bastian, at least, has been able to keep in contact with her without risking his reputation, and he says she’s fine. Better than fine. Great, actually. Aspen is so good to her, he says. He wines and dines her and lets her sleep in his bed after fucking her brains out.

Disgusting.

It’s all a game. What sort of game, I don’t know. Rich people play similar games to poor people, they just do it with an extra dash of panache and these absurd superiority complexes that ruffle my feathers like nothing else.

What was it that Aspen said at Bohnes’ party last week? That the mayor had ‘plans’ for Lemon? What fucking plans? And he knows her real name now? Did she

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