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

The Rebels live in the shadows, the cracks between broken mountains and sand dunes, always creeping around, watching. It has been a law for us not to take out one of our own, and that law was something we took very seriously, which is how the Rebels were created. But by the looks of it, Hector wants to take them all out. They’ve always lived a fairly low-key life, but for the past year, they’ve been kicking up dust. You would think that they’re all dirty and lost, living in the slums, but they’re not. They look like everyday people with everyday jobs, doing less than everyday shit. They live in a small community on the edges of Syracuse.

He bites on a cigar. “Seems so. They’re getting reckless. I want them all gone.”

“By gone, you mean 86’d?”

“You always have to go gangster, Malum. Yes, I want them all dead.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, sure. What about the Ghost? Want me to send out a warning first?”

Hector smirks in a way that resembles his son. “Do we do warnings?” His face straightens. “It needs to be rectified. Put in its place. See if it knows anything about it.”

I leave the meet with a clear head. Peyton is still with Hector when I tread down to my car. She’s been a fucking nuisance through all of this, and I still don’t quite know why Hector is keeping her alive. The man rules with a twitchy trigger finger. Any other person would have been dead the day we found her with Micaela.

“Nate!” Peyton calls out, pausing my movements.

I squeeze the door handle, not bothering to turn and face her. “What?”

“I’m sorry about Micaela…”

I snort, yanking the door open. “Fuck off, Peyton.”

I climb into my car and head home to prepare for the trip.

Tillie

After everyone has left my room and I’ve showered and dressed, I take out the book from under my bed, desperate for a distraction. I’ve decided I’m going to finish this book, but not just finish it, I’m going to try to see the places he has sketched in hopes to find anything to connect the transparent dots that seem to be disappearing before my eyes. Shoving the book into a duffel bag I found in the closet, I swing it over my shoulder, tying my hair in a long ponytail. I’m making my way toward the front of the house to catch a cab when Elena comes out dressed in yoga pants and a loose sweater.

“Hi,” I say, unsure of what we talk about now.

“Morning, Tillie, can I speak with you for a second?”

I lick my lips. “Okay.” Then follow her into the house, taking a seat at the dining table. “Is everything okay?” God, I really hope she’s not wanting me to leave today. I know Nate has said so, but I haven’t managed to find a home or even a car. I know I still have Nate’s money in my account, maybe I can use some of that to go get a car since Elena wouldn’t let me pay for her funeral.

She places a black coffee in front of me. I adjust myself on my chair, getting ready to brace myself for whatever she’s about to say.

“I want you to stay for as long as you need.”

I exhale, my shoulders slacking from the pent-up nerves I had worked myself up on. “I appreciate that, but I think you and I both know your son. He wants me out, and I don’t blame him.”

“My son is hurt, Tillie, broken beyond repair, as are you, but make no mistake, he loves you and will never really want you to be homeless or out on your own.”

I appreciate her telling me this, but Nate and I have never said the “L word,” and it grinds on my gears that she threw it out there so carelessly. She doesn’t know what her son feels, because I’m almost certain he feels nothing at all.

“Wooo.” I blow out my breath. I need to calm down, remember that she is not the enemy here and all she’s ever done is help me. I take a small sip of my coffee in an attempt to do that. Once I place the mug back onto the table, my fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic, I smile at her. “Thank you. I will stay for a couple more days until I find something else. I might be out and about for the next couple of days, though, don’t be alarmed. I’m just trying to find a car.”

She pushes the keys toward me. “The SUV is yours, Tillie. Please take it.”

I toss and turn.

“Please.”

I grab the keys and look up at her. “Thank you for all that you’ve done to help me, Elena. I didn’t know my mother.”

“—It’s a good thing,” she murmurs.