Malum: Part 1 (The Elite King's Club 4)

I fall to the ground, exhausted by the marathon my head is running around me and lean back against the mattress on the bed, my eyes zoning in on the pattern that is imprinted into Daemon’s ceiling.

The door opens and then closes, but I don’t pay it any attention. As much as I wish it was Madison, it knew it wasn’t.

“I’ll get her back,” Nate says softly, but I still don’t look at him.

“And then what, Nate? I have nothing to offer our daughter, who deserves the world. I’m lucky I’m smart so I have enough grades to graduate high school, but college isn’t in the picture for me.” I finally turn my attention to him. “What have I got to offer her? I’ve failed her before I’ve had a chance to enjoy her.”

He sinks down onto the floor opposite me, and I fight with myself not to let my eyes drop to his naked chest. Nate naked in any sense is a damn vortex for girls. He sucks you in and laughs as you lose yourself in a never-ending spin of pretty colors and ecstasy.

He props one arm up on one knee, leaning his head back against the door while his eyes stay on mine. “You haven’t failed her, Tillie. We will figure it out when she gets here.”

I shake my head, swiping the tears away from my eyes. “You don’t get it.”

“Yeah, I do, and fuck, if you want to go to college, then you can go to fucking college. You know damn well I’d pay—”

“—Nate!” I snap, my eyes going to him. “I’m not a fucking charity case.”

“No.” His eyes narrow on me. “You’re the fucking mother to my kid, so if I want to put your ass through college, I fucking will, so shut the fuck up and calm your stubborn ass down for once in your goddamn life.”

I exhale, turning my head to face the ceiling again, losing the urge to fight with him. “I hate you so much.”

“Yeah, ditto, baby, but we have a kid. So when she gets back, we’re seriously going to talk about what you want in the long term and how we can make that happen. But we’re also going to sit down with Mom and Joseph and toss around ideas to keep Micaela safe until this shit with your sister is taken care of. Can we agree on that?”

“Right now.” I stand from the floor. “I just want her back. We can talk about the rest once she’s back in my arms.”

“Deal.”

Nate

I never thought much about the day that I die. I think I assumed that I’d acquire some sort of superpower by that time and figure out how to become immortal. But as I flick my military blade around my fingers and think more on it, leaning back in my seat as Bishop drives us toward New York City, it’s not the way in which someone dies that matters. It’s what they died for that it comes down to, and I‘d lay my life on the line in a heartbeat to save my daughter. I may not have had much time with her since she has been born, but your kid should always be the exception when it comes to time.

“Did you get anything out of her?” Eli asks from the backseat.

I don’t answer.

“Either way,” Bishop exhales, leaning to the side of his seat while taking us onto the highway. “We’re prepared enough.” In this ride, there’s Bishop, me, Eli, Cash, and Spyder, Bishop’s cousin. In the Range Rover behind us is Brantley, Ace, Hunter, Chase, and Jase. Then in the SUV behind them is Joseph, Hector, Max, Raguel, and Johan. Basically, all of the olds are in that vehicle.

“Mmmm,” I answer, looking out the window.

“Will you be able to handle it if you find out that she has lied to you?” Eli further asks and I have to stop myself from snapping at him.

“I already fucking know she has lied to me.”

Bishop doesn’t answer, because he knows too.

“What?” Eli pushes forward to lean on the center console. “How?”

“We’ve known all along,” Bishop cuts in for me.

We continue driving and Eli eventually drops the subject once he figures out that neither Bishop or I were going to go further into it. It’s another five minutes before we’re entering the bright lights of New York City.

I push the buttons on the GPS system that’s sitting on the dash, programming the address into it. She starts yapping off and I close my eyes to count to ten.

I inhale on eight, a smirk riding on my lips. “You smell that? Smells like murder.”

“Okay, but I thought we weren’t supposed to make a mess…” Cash adds, looking around at all of us. Cash is the only one out of all of us, apart from Eli, I think, that doesn’t “like” to commit first-degree murder, or murder on any ground and they especially aren’t really fond of the sight of blood.