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

“I will go back to her father’s house and start making plans.”

“One more thing,” the doctor says, his eyes dropping to my arm. I follow his line of sight, pressing down on the thick bandage.

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I thought I was dreaming. I tried to wake myself up,” I admit truthfully.

His eyes crinkle around the edges. “Very well.”

Madison signs me out after I’ve changed into some clothes Tate had brought to the hospital. I’m guessing The Kings have some sort of play into how fast I was discharged, but I don’t question it.

Tate brings her car around the front of the hospital. The silence is haunting, and every single mile we drive away from the hospital I feel like I’m letting her down. She will be all alone. Alone without me. What happens on the other side when people die? Will she be sitting in purgatory wondering where her mommy is? Will she be playing with the angels? Will they know that she likes her milk a little warmer than average and that I didn’t get to finish The Wizard of Oz? Will they read it to her for me?

I swipe the tears that fall down my face.

“She’s all alone,” I whisper, tucking my head between my knees. “Why did this happen to me. Why her. Why. Why would God do this, take my daughter. Who would be so cruel.” I have never considered myself a religious person, but I’ve always thrown the word “god” around the place when I’d need to accentuate a point of safety or serenity. Now the only place I’ll be throwing his name is in the trash. I’m a fucking atheist, a heathen, a goddamn vixen with no soul.

Tillie

Seven. That’s how many people have asked me where Nate is. The next person who says his name, I’m going to punch straight in the face. We arrived back to Nate’s house a little over two hours ago, and since being here, Elena and Joseph have started arranging the house for visitors. I want to bring her home so all those close to her can say our final goodbye. Elena and Joseph agreed. Elena hasn’t stopped crying, and Joseph has a constant painful look in his eyes. I’ve been curled in the corner of the sitting room that overlooks the backyard and pool for the past hour, a bottle of Jack Daniels in hand. Alcohol has never been my go-to, in fact, I don’t drink much at all compared to other girls my age—friends included. I just need something. Anything to numb the everlasting pain that’s throbbing in my chest. But every sip I take, the more my feelings become heightened and the reality of everything comes crashing into me. I haven’t been into the pool house, and I won’t. So instead, I rummaged through Daemon’s clothes in his room to put on one of his hoodies, but Daemon owned suits, not hoodies. I grabbed a black velvet suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves slightly, treading back down to my spot. I can’t go into Nate’s room, that would mean seeing M—my daughter’s bed and items she had in there. I could go into Madison’s room, but she has locked herself in there since we got back. I don’t want to disturb her. I’ve never felt grief like this before. Daemon was the only person I lost who meant something to me, but even his death seems like the shallow end of the pool when it’s matched with this. My chest is hollow with nothing but a gaping hole where my heart used to be.

“Tillie?” Elena says, coming to sit beside me. She rubs my arm in an attempt to soothe the pain, and the very hurt side of me, which is every side, wants to laugh in her face and swear at her. But I don’t. I take another long pull of the whiskey instead. “She will be here soon. Would you like to come and wait at the entrance for her with us?”

I swallow the burning amber liquid that ignites my internal organs. If I swallowed a lit match, would I burst into flames?

I don’t answer. I stand. Because of course I will. I will do anything and everything I can until she is—I take another drink, brushing past Elena and heading for the front door. Their house resembles The White House, a modern-day plantation style home. There are around six large pillars that line the front of the wrap-around porch. It’s large enough to fit a small army.

When I step outside, I see Madison sitting on a swing seat, her legs pressed to her chest and her forehead resting on her knees, her shoulders shaking. My eyes flick up to Tate who is on the other side of the porch, her arms crossed around her stomach. Joseph takes Elena’s hand and tugs her under his arm where she loses herself and cries uncontrollably. A white Cadillac pulls up with a funeral home sticker on the side. It’s now that I realize Joseph had probably already organized everything for me. I take note to thank him later when I don’t feel like any sudden movement is going to rip the flesh off my bones. My eyes flick over the funeral car when I see Nate’s Audi R8 roll up behind, and then Brantley’s V8 behind that, and Bishop’s Maserati behind Brantley. There are also two black Range Rovers behind Bishop. It’s hard for me to be happy to see Nate, because I don’t feel happy. I don’t feel anything but pain, but I know I’m grateful that he’s here. Me second guessing him on it was unreasonable of me. They all climb out of their cars, but my eyes can’t move from Nate.