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

Before I can laugh, he yanks me into his chest and starts walking us toward the room Nate and everyone else are in.

Brantley leans into my ear. “Play along.”

As soon as we’re back in the room, Brantley’s arm hooks over my shoulder and he pulls me under. Bishop’s eyes go between both of us and Madison leans back up from taking a line of coke. Great. Now she’s going to be extra wild tonight. I’m not a hater, but I was raised in a neighborhood where drugs actually ruined families, and I don’t mean it in a way that the kids get left with millions of dollars in a trust fund, I mean it as in the kids are left homeless because of the parent’s addiction. It’s just never been my thing.

Madison clears her nose, handing me the rolled-up bill. I shake my head.

Nate shoves Tate off his lap when he sees us, his eyes dropping to icy levels. He brings his drink up to his mouth, his eyes on me.

“What do you say we cockblock the girl’s night out?” Brantley says it to everyone, but I know he’s looking at Nate.

Wait.

“No!” I shake my head, stepping out from under Brantley.

“Good idea.” Nate stands from the couch, grabbing a joint off the table and putting it behind his ear. He snatches his shirt that’s swung behind the sofa, taking his cap off to put it on.

“No!” Madison’s hand comes to Brantley’s chest, but it’s too late, Bishop is yanking her down onto his lap, laying small kisses onto the back of her neck. Jesus, I swear this lot are crazy. Then Bishop stands and takes Madison’s hand. “Let’s go.”

I don’t know what the fuck Brantley is playing it, but I go along with it.

Tillie

I shouldn’t have gone along with it. We all pile into the back of the limo, me sitting opposite Nate, and Brantley sitting on one side of me with Ridge on the other. Tate is on the floor between Nate’s legs and Bishop and Madison are beside him.

Jase leans in through the door, glaring at Madison. “Sort your shit out, Madz. We’ll follow you.” Then he slams it closed.

Great. They’re all coming because of course they are.

I turn to face Brantley, ignoring everyone else. “What about your house?”

He shrugs, lifting the bottle to his lips. I watch as he wraps them around the rim and takes a pull. Liquid leaks from the side of his mouth and drips down his neck. Is it possible for a neck to be sexy? I’m going to go with yes because that’s exactly what Brantley’s is. Then again, he just is that, but he’s dangerous. It’s a lethal combination what he has. Whoever he settles with would have to be just as fucked up as he is because there’s no way any sane and normal—somewhat normal—girl could ever be okay with him. He would scare the shit out of them.

Brantley’s staring down at me, his lips glistening from his drink. “You should probably stop staring at me like that if you don’t wanna get fucked, Princess.”

I shrug, looking away from him when my eyes connect with Nate. He’s glaring at me, like always. “Or Nah” by Ty Dolla $ign starts playing through the loudspeakers, but it’s a different version. It has an electric guitar in the background and sounds live. Better than the real version.

Nate keeps his eyes on me as his hand goes to Tate’s head, then he licks his lip and grins at me as his hand wraps around the front of her throat.

I don’t know what Tate does because I can’t break the eye contact with Nate. He tilts her head backward so it’s resting between his legs, and then he leans over, his eyes still on mine, and licks her across her lips. It feels as though someone has punched me straight in the chest. I struggle to breath. The dress is suddenly too tight, and I’m suddenly not drunk enough.

Fuck him and fuck her. I decide I hate Tate now and there’s no way I’m going to make an effort with her, not unless she stops this shit with Nate. It goes against girl code, King or not. I don’t give a fuck.

I lean into Brantley, and his arm goes over my shoulders. When Nate sits back, his eyes go to Brantley. This isn’t fun because it’s not hurting Tate, and by the looks of it, Nate isn’t bothered.

Nate’s jaw muscles clench. Or maybe it does.

I turn to face Brantley and smirk. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve been fucked—” Then I look to Nate. “Right.”

Madison spits out her drink. Nate glares and Bishop barks out a loud laugh.

Once Bishop has stopped laughing, he shoves Nate. “Oh, this is hilarious. Looks like your karma has pink hair.”