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

Brantley groans, snatching the pack of smokes from the sofa and putting one in his mouth. “Fuck me. Lucky bastard.”

Nate disappears, taking his presence with him and I instantly miss his touch.

“Was. Was a lucky bastard,” he corrects as he comes back in. He shoves on his jeans, leaving them unbuttoned to hang around his hips and putting a smoke in his mouth, even though I know he hates cigarettes. He lights it and blows out the smoke, dropping onto the ground to lay on his back, watching the ceiling. I want to climb onto his lap. I want him. His touch. I want him to tell me we will get through this together. But I’m deluded. He plays with his phone, and then “American Psycho” from D12 starts playing. When the chorus comes on with Eminem, he raps it perfectly.

Madison laughs, and it shocks me because I almost forgot about her and Bishop having sex right opposite me. Any other person would be embarrassed, maybe even a little awkward, but it’s not like that with us. It doesn’t feel that way. Madison comes over to me, wasted off her head and naked up top—panties on bottom. She takes my hand and tugs me to my feet. Bishop hits the light, leaving nothing but the outside illumination of the pool spilling into the room. It’s enough to give more of a laid-back vibe, without being completely dark. I love it, it feels secluded. I’ve got to admit, the coke is lame. I don’t know why Madison has been doing it lately. I mean the guys have always done it as a party “upper,” but Madison? I need to talk to her about that one day. When I can be bothered. I yank my panties on since I was still fully naked and dance with Madison to the song until it changes.

Madison’s hands come to my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Shut up, Madz,” I whisper, shaking my head.

She kisses me on the lips, her breasts pressing against mine. She pulls back, searching my eyes. “Okay. I’ll shut up. Let’s just dance.”

We dance for hours until sweat drips off us and a soft burnt orange touches the sky.

“Baby,” I hear Nate’s soft voice from the bed. I look toward him, tilting my head. I lived through last night, and now I’m sober. “Come here.”

Like a good puppy dog, I go to him. One last time, because after this, there will be no alcohol to cloud my thoughts. There will definitely be no drugs, and finally, there will be no Nate and Tillie.

Nate

I can’t seem to think straight. I don’t want to think straight. I want to tear apart every single fucking straight thing in this piece of shit world and rip it to fucking shreds.

I’m angry.

I have a rage burning in the pit of my stomach that is untamable.

Turning to my side, I clench my jaw, hate seething to the surface. Is it hate if it makes your fucking heart beat faster? My eyes fall to her perfect soft lips, how they curve and dip in all the right places. Her thick eyelashes that are naturally fluffy but tamed and arched in a way I know most bitches would pay money for. The natural glow of her flawless skin with a complexion that could be painted on. Her thick dark eyelashes that fan out over her high cheekbones, and the fact that I know when she opens those perfect almond eyes, the brightest aqua ocean is going to fucking drown me. Her hair is still pink, though a little faded now, but when it’s not pink, you could see that it was blonde. Same as Micaela. Every fucking thing about Tillie is Micaela.

My heart seizes in my chest and I fly off the bed, tears threatening to prick the corners of my eyes again. I hate that I can’t stand to be around her. She’s a constant reminder of how I was given the most beautiful girl in the world, and I ruined it. My hands are not made to carry pretty things, they were made to destroy them. I couldn’t even take care of my daughter, and that was the one thing every father has to do. Hell, even junkies and deadbeats manage to not lose their kids the way I have.

I pick up my phone and walk out of the room, dodging Brantley’s body that’s sprawled out on the floor. “Motherfucker.” I shake my head but chuckle. I don’t know if last night was a good idea. I know that his cock is hard for her, and I think I just made it worse, contributing to their foreplay. I’m shaking my head when the edge of something brown catches my eye under the bed. I reach forward, pulling it out while checking that Tillie is still asleep. Her mouth opens slightly, a small snore leaving her mouth. Yeah, no one is touching you for as long as you live. I’ll make sure of it. At the very least, he would need to not be a piece of shit like me.