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

“Get in the fucking car, Tillie.”

Well, I recognize that voice.

“Nate?”

His hand comes out, pulling me into the backseat.

“What are you doing!” I yelp, falling across not just Nate’s lap, but the rest of whoever is in the back.

Nate slams the door closed, grabs me by the back of my neck and slaps my ass cheek. Hard. A loud clap breaks out along with my scream.

“Nate!”

My short white shorts have probably ridden up high enough to flash the curves of my massive ass.

“I fucking told you to stay the fuck away from anyone while I’m around, and what do you do?”

I lean up on my elbow, trying to get up but the guy I’m over tenses when my elbows dig into his hard thigh muscles.

“Let me up…” I moan.

He flips my legs off his lap and brings each of his legs over mine. His lips touch the back of my neck. “What. Do. You. Do?”

I gulp, licking my lips. “Let me up.” He pushes my legs away and they drop to the ground as he takes his seat again. I inch up, my eyes going straight to the guy whose lap I’m sitting on. “Who are you?”

I turn to look at the rearview mirror, and my eyes drop to the driver’s neck where I see the familiar demon inked. Just as recognition zaps through me, I catch the smile that tickles Brantley’s mouth in the rearview mirror.

“This is your car?” I should have known Brantley would own something like this.

He chuckles, dropping it into second as he shoots us forward on the highway.

Spinning back around, I glare at the guy whose lap I’m on. “Who are you.”

“Fucking chill. It’s Bishop. I’m not going to slip one in you…” There’s a pause. “In this lifetime.”

I relax slightly because he’s right. He wouldn’t do that. I look to Nate, who is watching the passing trees out the window, his fist clenched on his lap.

“Where are we going?”

Nate doesn’t answer, just continues to ignore me. I try hard not to take in the strength of his jaw and neck.

“You’re on a run, boo, and sucks to be you because these never end well,” the guy in the passenger seat says, and I recognize his voice instantly. It’s Hunter, Madison’s brother. Well, this is all new news, so I don’t know if I’m actually allowed to refer to him as her brother, but whatever, and also, I’m still drunk.

“I feel funny.” I sway in Bishop’s lap.

His arm snakes around my waist. “Wow! You alright?”

“Umm…” I click my lips together to end the ‘um.’ “Not sure, don’t think so. Is it hot in here?” I start fanning my face in an attempt to cool down my suddenly hot flesh. My cheeks flash in the humidity.

My eyes go to Bishop’s. “You look hot in this mask. I don’t know, it calls to something inside of me.” Sweat drips down between my boobs, and my hands come to the bottom of my shirt. I yank it up and throw it to the front of the car onto Brantley’s lap.

“Woah!” Brantley grabs it, his eyes coming to me in the rearview mirror. “Nate, check her. Now.”

Leaning forward, I arch my back so my ass is the only view for the backseat trio and hit the stereo. D12’s “Devil’s Night” starts booming through the subwoofers. I close my eyes and wriggle back onto Bishop’s lap. Nate yanks me off, putting me directly on his. I hear chuckling somewhere, but Nate curls his fingers around my chin, tilting my head down to face him.

“Did you take anything?”

I yank myself out of his grip. “What do you mean?”

“Did you snort anything, pop anything?”

My brows cross in confusion. “What? No. I just drank. You know I don’t like drugs that much.”

His eyes go to Bishop and he shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, babe. Sure.” Then he turns to Bishop. “With her like this, it’s going to make this whole thing a little more difficult.”

Bishop laughs. “God I’m loving karma right now.”

“Fuck you.” Nate flips him off.

The music continues to take me over. “Where are we going?”

Nate’s eyes come to mine—finally, but now that I have his attention, I’m not sure I want it. He’s mad. “You’ll see.”

With the blanket of the music, I know the guys can’t hear anything that is said between him and I. I don’t break the eye contact, ignoring the way my stomach clenches the longer I’m in his trance. Like a captured butterfly, my time is limited.

“Are you mad at me?” I don’t know why that’s the first thing that I say, but it is.

His jaw flexes in a way that makes it expand a little at the edges. When I figure he’s not going to answer me, I rest my head on his shoulder. I don’t care if he doesn’t want it there, it’s staying there anyway. Now I just have to stop myself from falling asleep.