Society of Psychos (Dead Men Walking #2)

Society of Psychos (Dead Men Walking #2)

Caroline Peckham & Susanne Valenti

This book is dedicated to unleashing your inner crazy…

The world demands you to be sane, but let’s all board the crazy train.

Be wild! Be free! Shake your ass at a tree.

Hoot to an owl, hit a melon with a trowl.

Hug a goat, milk a cat, wave a coconut at a bat.

Dig a hole and meet a mole, have a real ol’ fancy rigamarole.

Throw a party and invite a bunch of moths, make them tiny invitations out of tablecloths.

Go wherever the wind blows, and feel the sand between your toes.

You get one life, so don’t waste it playing small.

Be the biggest badass of them all.

“F or the love of fuck!” I bellowed, my eyes tracking the prison transport vehicle as it tore away down the road, leaving me and Mateo behind as my little psycho was carted off fuck knew where in the back of it.

“We can catch them,” Mateo growled, the distant howl of police sirens seeming to concern him as little as it did me. Men like us knew better than to fear the law. We were the real darkness in this world, the real price which evil had to face eventually, so no officer with a badge or the promise of a warm cell were ever going to scare us away from our goals.

My eyes tracked the winding route the transport bus was taking, my knowledge of this area and the surrounding roads spinning through my mind on fast forward. I was nodding in agreement to his assessment of it before I’d even fully formed a plan.

“Let’s fuckin’ catch them then,” I demanded, turning and taking off across the perfectly manicured lawn outside the burning facility, sprinting as fast as I could run with one destination in mind.

Mateo kept pace with me wordlessly, Evangeline dripping blood in his fist as he kept hold of the heavy axe, no doubt still thinking about planting her sharp end in my skull. But I wasn’t worrying over that right now. I’d seen his truth just as he’d seen mine and black hearted heathens that we were, we shared a single common goal. A single desire which we wouldn’t be denied no matter our other needs or wants.


That crazy, stubborn, beautiful creature of chaos who had come crashing into our empty, bloodthirsty lives and had forced us to experience so much fucking more.

Who knew how we’d ended up in her web, but my little Spider had us trapped alright. Trapped and begging for the taste of her bite. And if we weren’t able to bring her back to us then I had no doubt that we’d both starve in her web, the absence of her wasting us away until we were far less than the devils we’d been before her.

She was the bright point in our dark existence and we weren’t going to let some fucking prison transport vehicle steal her away from us.

There were more than a couple of shouts of alarm as we passed through the sweeping gardens, the few guards who remained on site spotting us, though none of them took any shots, not seeming to realise that we were the architects of their ruin this very night.

I ignored them all. My desire to see them bleed tempered by my need to catch up to that bus and retrieve my girl from its bowels.

I spotted the wall up ahead, the razor wire topping it gleaming silver in the moonlight and making me curse. I’d tangled with that particular nightmare enough times to know it could be a cruel mistress indeed, and we had no time to waste getting knotted up in it and bleeding evidence all over the fuckin’ ground.

I yanked my jacket off, shaking the thick material out and snatching Eric from my pocket before the little dagger could end up lost out here and all alone in the dark, shoving him into my pants’ pocket instead. This was no place for a little stabber to end up abandoned and alone. I might have been a monster, but I had more heart than that.

There was a fucking inferno burning in my cock with every bounce of my damn balls as I ran, and I cursed my marginally more sober self once again for piercing the fucking thing in the first place. It felt like I was going to pass out here and now from cock agony alone, but I had to force my attention away from it, focus on what mattered and not my own drunken insanity, so I kept running despite the pain.

I threw my jacket up onto the top of the white wall as we reached it, covering the razor wire and giving us a route to escape.

Mateo leapt up and heaved himself over it without so much as a thank you for my kindness, jumping from the top and tumbling away out of sight just as gunfire rang out behind me. Rude. That was his problem. He was rude and ungrateful. I’d spent months and months feeding him and changing his bucket and he hadn’t once thanked me, so I didn’t know why I was surprised he was still lacking in manners while in the thick of the fight too.

I looked over my shoulder to the guard who thought he could try his luck with a pot shot from six hundred yards away and barked a laugh, flipping him off for good measure.

“Good luck with that, fella,” I mocked, ignoring him as he yelled a command for me to stay where I was and leaping up to grasp the top of the wall a few feet above my head.

I heaved myself skyward, ignoring the protests of my freshly inked and pierced cock as I swung a leg up onto the wall and heaved myself onto the top of it, using my jacket to protect myself from the cutting wire which lined it. It was a damn shame because that had been a nice jacket too. A robust little fella who didn’t show much bloodstain and kept the chills away from my nips. But now he was doomed, done for and dead. At least I’d given him a good life while it lasted.

I didn’t waste time making my descent pretty on the other side, hurling myself into the undergrowth which marked the edge of the dark woodland and rolling a couple of times before springing to my feet and taking off once more.

Mateo remained silent as we ran for the car together, the combination of our heavy footfalls thumping through the undergrowth and our harsh breaths exploding from our lungs the only theme tune to our desperate bid for our girl’s freedom.

I cursed myself for the effort I’d taken to conceal the car as the seconds ticked into minutes, every one of them carrying Brooklyn further from us while we raced towards our only hope of catching her now.

Finally, I spotted the dark paintwork of the Jeep between the trees and I let out a triumphant whoop as I pulled the keys from my pocket, unlocking the beasty. She was a gallant steed who had done me good on countless getaways and I trusted her implicitly for this rescue mission.

Mateo ran towards the driver’s side but I barked a denial at him, locking the car again before he could tug the door wide and making him turn to scowl at me.

“I thought you were too drunk to drive, hijo de puta?” he sneered, judgement dripping all over his tone as he looked me up and down like I was little more than a stray mutt come begging at his heels.

It looked like my cartel prisoner was starting to remember the man he’d been before my basement. That feral look in his eyes spelled trouble and I couldn’t help but want to beat it out of him again. Or encourage it. Undecided. Not now though. Right now, we had bigger fish to fry.

“I find myself feeling remarkably sober now,” I replied. “So move your arse over to the bitch seat or stay behind. I don’t much care either way in this moment.”

His eyes flashed with the offer of freedom, but he didn’t even take a second to consider it before cursing me and vaulting over the hood of the car, dropping into the passenger seat as I unlocked the Jeep again, leaving me clear to get in behind the wheel.

I aimed my gun at his head as I shut my door behind me.

“Toss Evangeline in the back,” I commanded in a low growl. “She’ll never get over the trauma if you make her cut her daddy.”

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