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

She licks her lips.

Right?

“So!” I yell, shutting the door. “You wanna come see Micaela? I’m not sure if she’s still awake, but we can sneak in.” It’s nine p.m, I know she won’t be awake. Ridge nods his head, a smile beaming from him.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

Madison stands, running her hands over her black slinky dress and gestures to the door. “You ready to see the most beautiful girl in the world?”

Ridge winks. “If she’s anything like Tillie…”

“Well, she’s more like Nate, but we don’t tell him that,” Madison mutters.

I laugh and we all stumble over to the main house. The door opens just as we reach it and Elena is on the sofa, her cheeks dipped in soft pink rose, her skin glowing. How is it my child is making her glow.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt. This is Ridge, he and I grew up together. He hasn’t met Micaela yet.”

Elena smiles from the sofa, waving upstairs. “She’s in our bedroom. I have a crib in there too, you know, for when she’s here, and I didn’t want to put her in Nate’s room tonight without you there too.”

I exhale, my shoulders relaxing. She gets me. “Thank you.” There’s a silent conversation that goes between Elena and I. I’m so glad she thought of that. Would Nate bring someone back here though? Now, with Micaela here? I don’t want to be naïve in saying no, but I really don’t think he will. Tate is different, she’s in our group, but even still, I can’t see him taking her into his room now that that’s basically Micaela’s room too.

We head upstairs and into Elena and Joseph’s room. Ridge shakes his head, exhaling while running his finger down her face. She’s sleeping peacefully, wrapped up in a muslin wrap. Her small little face pops out the top and her hair is brushed backward.

“She’s going to have lots of hair,” I say to Ridge, my heart clenching in my chest. God, I love her so much it cripples me. I don’t know how I feel about loving something so much and having her live in this cruel world.

“She looks so much like you, Tip.”

We leave after another five minutes, then we are back in the pool house and the music is playing. Madison puts on “Bad Bitch” by Bebe Rexha and I end up dancing on the coffee table, sipping on my drink. I twist my body around to the beat while bringing my eyes straight to Madison’s phone that she’s got on me from the kitchen. I’ve always loved dancing, and I’m not half bad. It’s one of the first things that got Nate’s attention.

I will not think of him…

Ridge comes up behind me, pulling stupid shit into the phone. Madison laughs as the song changes.

She lowers her phone and sinks the rest of her drink. I think we’re up to six each. “Right! Let’s head out.”

“Where are we going first?” I ask, picking up my clutch.

“We have to pick Tate up from Brantley’s.” Madison rolls her eyes. “I hope that’s okay?”

“Of course!” I say, brushing her off while ignoring the way my stomach flips from knowing I’m about to see Nate. God, what if they’re all over each other?

Fuck it. Liquid courage has my back. We all shuffle out of the pool house, sloppily making our way to the front of the mansion where there’s a limo waiting for us, because of course there is.

Madison wiggles, sliding into the back seat.

“Wow, Tip,” Ridge jokes as he gets in behind her. “This is a step up from the Skyline’s back in the day…”

I laugh, shoving him as he dives into the back seat. I scoot next to Madison when my phone vibrates in my clutch. It’s a Snapchat from Tate.

My face falls.

“What is it?” Madison asks, leaning over to look at my phone. “Oh.”

Ridge is watching us, taking the bottle of champagne from the ice cooler and popping it open.

“Open it,” Madison rushes.

“What if it’s her and Nate?”

“I thought you didn’t care?” Her eyebrow is raised, but it’s not in a malicious way.

I open it and a video starts playing. “Welcome to Detroit” by Trick Trick and Eminem is playing loudly in the background, and then she drops the phone to a coffee table where white powder is lined up beside a one-hundred-dollar bill. The phone then drops down, where a hand is wrapped around her tanned thigh. A hand I know is Nate’s because of the skull tattooed over it and the letters “E L I T E” inked into each finger.

“Motherfucker.” I exit, not watching the whole video because I can’t fucking stand it. I hate Nate so much I could spew. Snatching the champagne off Ridge, I take a huge drink. I’m going to need it for what I’m about to walk into.