Skiller

"You are a narcassistic sociopath!" I hurled a knee towards his lower stomach.

Before my next thought, he shoved my knee back, grabbed my arms and slammed me against the metal door.

"Oh, kitten. I'm neither of those things. A narcassist is a commoner," he nodded towards Curly.

"A sociopath is made," he didn't need to indicate this time, I already had a hunch.

His breath came in mists against my jaw.

"But a psychopath?" I felt the words murmured at my ear.

"A psychopath is born."

And he bit down. Hard.