KYRIE.
I didn't know what the f**k had gotten into Saint.
Scratch that. I did. Same old s**t – his obsession with control. His sick addiction to pushing people till they cracked just to watch what color their soul turned when it broke.
But this?
This was a new level of messed up.
I was losing it. No, scratch that too – I had already f*****g lost it.
Even though there was no logical reason as to why I even gave a f**k about what he does with his new stepsister, I still found myself unable to look away.
She was too young. Too naïve. Too goddamn fragile to be anywhere near this kind of s**t. She looked like the kind of girl who'd apologize for stepping on a flower.
She looked too innocent that – I'd think twice if I ever had to hurt her.
And Saint threw her into a den of monsters.
