I was still trying to get my head around that, to be honest. Cass couldn't have been more different. He wouldn't hurt a fly unless they swung first.
"Is there any chance…" I trailed off, not wanting to ask something quite so personal.
"Is there any chance he's not my father?" Cass asked. "My mother was loyal. She never would have cheated on him." He shook his head slowly. "I wish she had. I'd give almost anything to be someone else's son. Except all the rest of his associates." He looked a little green, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
I wound my arms around his neck.
"I know. No one wants to be related to a monster." I certainly didn't.
"What if I'm more like him than I know?" Cass whispered. "What if it takes… I don't know, a trigger. Something to set me off. The right circumstances.Something." The devastation in his eyes suggested he'd been stewing on this for far too long.
I pulled my face back and locked my eyes on his.
"You arenothinglike him. Neither is Jules. There's nothing anyone could do to make you evencontemplatethe things he's done." I hated that the thought was even in his head at all.
"Not those things," he agreed. "But I might… I don't know, like killing. What then? I might be a psychopath and not realize it. I might kill someone and never be able to stop." His voice got higher with each word. The anxiety increased, like he might be the one to run up onto the roof and jump. If he was going to try that, he might be the one who ended up inside my box until he cooled down.
"If you're a psychopath, then I'm a three-headed purple unicorn," I told him.
"More likely to be a sociopath," Archer said helpfully. "They have the ability to socialize with other people."
I glanced back at him, giving him a quick look of warning. His random information was fascinating and often helpful, but not in this situation.
Cass didn't need the suggestion that he might be a sociopath working its way into his brain either.
"Cass is not a sociopath," I said. "I might be though." I was definitely not normal.
"You're not deceitful or aggressive enough," Archer said.
He didn't mention the the rest of the traits associated with sociopathy. Didn't tell me I didn't fit right into those descriptions. The lack of remorse, with occasional flashes of empathy. The only real relationships I formed with other people were with my men. I also had moments of rage which were fleeting.
Borderline sociopath might be a better description.
"We might all be borderline sociopathic," Archer said as if reading my thoughts. "I prefer the term 'unhinged as fuck.' It covers a whole spectrum of situations and behaviors."
"That sounds more accurate," I said. "No one would do the things we do if they weren't unhinged as fuck."
"Can I get that on a t-shirt?" A hint of a smile played around the corners of Cass' mouth.
"We could all get one," I said brightly. "No one would take it seriously." They wouldn't look at us and immediately recognize us for what we were. They might assume we frequented BookTok. Which I did.
"We could make a fortune selling them," Archer said. "I know a bunch of people who'd buy one."
"I could sell them out of my restaurant," I said. "With that on the front and Angels Rest on the back."
Of course I wouldn't do that. It wouldn't be beneficial for the reputation of my restaurant. Worse luck.
"I bet Boner would sell them out of his gallery," Cass said.
NowthatI could see. I pictured Boner proudly wearing a t-shirt that said 'Unhinged as fuck' across the front. Knowing him, he'd get one in every color.
"He could display them on his wall like works of art."
Reluctantly, I let my smile fade and shook my head. I didn't want to focus on more important things, but we had to.
“So, we know more about Forrest and his work ethic. What about his home life?"
"He lives in an apartment in Tribeca," Archer said.
