Malum: Part 2 (The Elite King's Club 5)

“Yeah. If only,” she whispers, her face falling.

“Jeez, little cuz, looks like we need to work on your poker face. It’s shit.” Brantley tugs on Bailey and starts to walk her out of the room.

What? What?

“What was that about?” I ask Nate, who is still smirking at me. “Stop fucking smirking at me.”

His smile drops, and his face goes blank. Why. Why does this infuriating, frustratingly beautiful man have to be the bane of my damn existence? His lip kicks up in a smooth grin. “That is none of your business.”

Bishop tosses me a small box. “You need to get in contact with Madison and Elena. They’re both freaking out that you’re dead or gone missing. I told them that you’re fine, but I think it’ll be best if you call her yourself.”

I grip the box that contains a phone. “Really? And what am I supposed to tell her?”

Bishop’s eyes flick to Nate before coming back to me. “Not about Daemon. Just say you’re with us until we’ve sorted something.”

“What’s the thing? And you want me to lie to her about Daemon?”

Bishop glares at Nate.

“Bishop!” I snap at him, sidestepping the view of Nate. “You want me to lie to my best friend about something that will potentially push her over the edge?”

I see Bishop’s eyes harden. “She’s already over the fucking edge, Tillie.” Then he looks to Nate. “You both need to talk with her once this is over. Because there’s a whole lot that she’s not telling you.” He storms off as quickly as he stormed in. My chest tightens. I’m so sick of the dramatics.

Turning around, I find Nate. “Why is this all so difficult?”

I don’t even manage to ask where Abel has gone.

Once I’m back in my bedroom, I turn my phone on, my legs curling under my butt as I dial Madison’s number. I know her number by heart.

“Hello?” Madison answers after the fifth ring.

“Mads?”

“Tillie!” she screams through the line. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

I shake my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Tillie,” Madison purrs. “They’ve gotten into your head. Let me come and get you. You need some clarity.”

Well, if Daemon wants to stay down here, I guess I can tell him that she’s coming, and he needs to stay away. I hated telling him about her. It broke him just like I thought it would. Now I need to find Gabe because I need that book.

“I’m at—”

The door swings open with Nate glaring at me from the other side.

“I’ll call you back.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asks, his eyes narrowing on my phone.

“I was going to tell her to come over and just tell Daemon to wait down here.”

Nate tugs on his hair in frustration, making the ends stick up, which in short, only accentuates his sex appeal. “Tillie, she cannot come here right now.”

“Nate, I’m going out of my fucking mind sitting here, waiting for God knows what! I’m bored.”

Nate cocks his head, his eyes dilating.

“Nope.” I shake my head. “You stay there. I’m not doing this.”

He saunters in, gripping my arm and pulling me up to my feet.

“I’m getting rather sick of being thrown around like a damn ragdoll.”

“It could be worse,” he murmurs, leading me out of my room.

“How could things possibly be any worse than being dragged around like a ragdoll?”

“You could get fucked like one too. Move. Brantley is throwing a party tonight and I need you to wipe the sad out of your eyes.”

“Hard to do—” I pause, squeezing my eyes shut to blink out the memories. Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies…

My breathing harbors my screams of when I woke and found her threatening to choke me.

“Hey!” Nate’s hands come to my arms.

I rear back. “Don’t fucking touch me.” I shove past him. “Good thing Brantley is having a party tonight. I could do with some distractions.” I stop outside Daemon’s room, pushing the door open slightly. I need something to pacify my rage that brutally rose to the surface.

His bed is empty.

I turn to face Nate, panic seizing my bones. “Where is he?”

Nate stops outside his door, staring between me and the bed.

“Goddammit, Nate!” I shove his chest. “What did you do!”

He falls backward, letting me shove at him. His eyes glass over and his jaw tenses. “He’s gone out. Will be back later.” Then he storms off and leaves me there, with an empty room and untamed thoughts.

Tillie

I tug on the hem of the dress that I borrowed from Bailey. It’s a long sleeve, see-through black garment that cuts off at my upper thigh. I paired it with a lace black bra underneath and—black cheeky boyshorts. I’m not proud of this dress choice, but I’m feeling hasty tonight. I don’t want to think about my past. I want it to disappear. I want to feel numb. I’m tired of hurting. As much as I think to myself that I need to turn dead inside against certain things or people, I don’t work like that. I can act like situations don’t affect me, but I’m only lying to myself. I’m good with lying to myself, and to others around me. If this is the only way that I’m going to be able to swim to the shoreline of peace, then I’ll make sure I float and not sink.