Kill Switch (Devil's Night, #3)

by Penelope Douglas

“Are you…are you going to hurt me?” I asked. “I don’t know.” He doesn’t know? “Do you want to?” I pressed. “Kind of.” His masked voice was like a breeze through the trees. “Why?” “Because I’m sick,” he answered. What? No one was that self-aware. Especially psychopaths. He took my upper arms, and I stiffened as he pulled me up, both of us standing again. He moved in, his shirt brushing my arms. “Because I can’t feel guilt, sadness, anger, or shame as strongly as I can feel fear anymore, and there’s no stronger fear than when I scare myself.” He brushed a tear off my face, and I jerked away. “I never know quite what I’ll do,” he finished. Everything he said sounded like a threat, only worse. As if he had zero control over himself, and he was just as much a victim in this as me. Fuck you.