Vicious Love

By: M. W. McFarland

Barrington Heights Book 1




DEDICATION



Mom –



Thanks for giving me a push in the right direction. Who knew that after you dedicated your debut book to Max & me last year I’d be able to return the favor this year?





chapter 1



chris





I’m a psychopath. There, I said it. I understand I’m a psychopath, which means that I’m not one of the psychopaths that breaks the news with their acts of utter insanity. I’m not insane because I realize that I am a psychopath, while those people who are insane believe that everyone else is insane, not them.

Now that that’s over with, I want to move on to my problem at hand—love. Love is just a chemical mixture of serotonin and oxytocin in the brain. Chemically speaking, of course. Emotionally speaking, however, I believe that love is just a combination of three simple things: lust, comfort, and need.

Lust is want; you desperately want that person. Preferably, in many positions. Lust then leads to comfort; you can be who you really are with the other person and they won’t judge you—or you won’t care if they judge you. They don’t need to understand you. Understanding is a part of controlling, something entirely different. Comfort then leads to need. You need that person to be comfortable, which was caused by lust. Simple, right?

I certainly believed as much as I walked through the doors of my local high school, Barrington High—an insufferable place full of people acting like cattle being herded into the direction set for them, unknowingly being led to their own demise. Not a literal demise for the most part, but a theoretical demise. They’re just going to join society as another lawyer, doctor, author, politician, or labor worker. Nothing spectacular.

Let me continue with the introduction. If you didn’t notice, I already called myself a psychopath. My name is Christopher Wells III, son of Christopher Wells II and Alexandra Wells. We’re one of the wealthiest families in the world, yet we choose to stay in Middle America, and I have never fully realized why. I’m six foot one and rather attractive. I have black hair and nearly black eyes. I enjoy a tailored suit, good scotch and I always get what I want. I was actually trying to get what I wanted when this whole “love” mess started as I walked into school on the first day back from summer vacation.

Waking up at seven in the morning has never been fun, but it was especially miserable on a day like that one. Lying in bed, hearing your alarm go off, listening to your parents arguing downstairs, and never once opening your eyes. After a decent fit of yelling, I heard someone coming up the steps to my room. Probably my mom.

“Honey, it’s time to get up,” she whispered while cracking my door open.

“Okay, Mom. Just give me a second to wake up.”

She nodded and closed the door as she left. She was always good at doing that. After a bit of yawning and shifting in my king-sized bed, I finally got up. Looking around, I immediately noticed that something was missing—my small box that I kept next to the door.

“Hey, Dodge.”

On the first word, my west highland white terrier, Dodge, looked up at me. He was already up, like always, but he waited for me to acknowledge him. He jumped over the folds of blankets to get to me and proceeded to lick my face until I leaned up and petted him.

“Good morning, boy. Thanks for waking me up.” I smiled as he barked in response. I swear he understood English, but I would never be able to prove it.

“Chris! Are you up yet?” my mom yelled from the next room—the library—while fully knowing that I would be awake but still asking anyway.

“Yes, Mom! Thanks!” I heard her leave the room and go downstairs. My dad must’ve already left. Otherwise, she would’ve stayed upstairs.

After I knew she was downstairs, I got out of bed and moved to my closet—walk-in, of course.

“What to wear today… Hmm. What do you think, Dodge?” He barked back at me and I laughed. “Of course. Whatever’s in style. You’re right again, boy.” He wagged his tail at the acknowledgment. Such a good boy.

I picked out a navy-blue-and-white-striped button-up and a pair of jeans. Picked out a pair of unused Sperrys and got dressed. I paused for a second to admire myself in the mirror. Noticing that I was starting to lose definition in my abs, I made a mental note to work out after school.

After dressing, I headed downstairs, remembering that I hadn’t showered, checking my watch, and realizing that there wasn’t enough time. I was running late, but that was to be expected; it was the first day of school and I didn’t have a routine set up yet. Either way, I had late arrival the next day, so I would have more time then.

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