Malcolm (Henchmen MC Next Generation 2)

"Hello?" he called, moving out a step, looking around.

It was then or never.

I moved out from my hiding spot, waiting for him to look at me.

I took a sick sort of pleasure in the panic in his eyes.

"This is for Holly," I told him, watching as his eyes went huge, knowing what was going to happen.

But before he could even react, I stepped forward, slamming my hands into his shoulders, sending him flying down the staircase, going over the banister, and smacking down on the tile floor in the foyer below, body bent in a horrific angle as blood formed a small halo around his head.

Taking a deep breath, I went down the steps, watching him for a long moment to make sure he wasn't breathing, taking an extra second to check for a pulse, then letting myself out the way I'd come in before making my way to meet Dezi again.

It wasn't the justice I'd wanted.

But, in a way, the justice I'd wanted was selfish.

What really mattered was that Glen was no longer around to ever touch even a hair on Holly's head again.

She was safe.

And she was mine.

That was what mattered.

Holly - 1 week

Glen was dead.

I knew I was supposed to be upset, or maybe looking at Malcolm sideways.

But after a long talk with Malcolm's mom who had randomly stopped into the diner one night to meet me because she was "tired of being the last" to learn things about me, I felt a lot different about the whole situation.

Janie was a small, slight woman with black hair and a ton of tattoos and the similar badass aura Hope carried around with her. And, well, the girls had told me that Janie—nickname Jstorm—was not only a vigilante hacker, but a maker of bombs. So, yeah, she was definitely a badass.

She'd drank several cups of disgusting coffee while telling me a long story about the abuse she'd once endured, about falling for Malcolm's dad, Wolf, about how he'd gone out and taking out his revenge on the man who'd once hurt her.

I couldn't help but see her story as something, well, romantic in a way. It had been an act of love on Wolf's part.

So I kind of had to think of it that way with Malcolm, didn't I?

I mean, not that he loved me. Or, if he did, he hadn't said that yet. Then again, I was totally in love with him, but hadn't found the words yet either.

They would come.

For the moment, though, I was just enjoying spending time with him. More than enjoying. God, I was eating it up. I couldn't get enough.

Just the idea of him coming by to pick me up after my shift to take me home where we could strip out of our clothes, and fall into each other for a while before we caught some sleep.

We ended up having a lot more time together than I'd even anticipated. Because, in a turn of events I couldn't have seen coming, Malcolm's club brothers had taken over the lion's share of Shep's daily care.

I figured it was partially because Shep was staying with the other prospects, so when they got up, they just helped him around if he needed it.

But one day I'd stumbled out of Malcolm's room panicked because I'd overslept and was running late for Shep's physical therapy only to find that one of the other guys had taken him for me.

There was no more housework to be done since Cary, Rowe, and Dezi handled it all. Well, Dezi seemed to do a lot of disappearing, leaving the other two to handle all the chores.

"Just sit," Malcolm demanded, snagging me around the waist to pull me back down on his lap. "They've got it," he assured me.

"I can clean up after myself," I said, not wanting to become a burden to the other guys.

"Honey, this is what they have to do. It was what we had to do when we were prospecting too."

"Well, yeah, clean up after you, but not me and Shep," I said, offering Cary an apologetic smile as he grabbed our plates off the coffee table.

"Don't worry about it, love," he assured me. "I don't mind."

"You know," Dezi said, dropping down on the chair at our side. "All this time you're saving with our free labor—"

"Your?" Malcolm asked, smirking.

"Hey, I pull my weight in my own way," Dezi insisted. "Anyway. You don't have to do all the shit anymore, so it seems like that leaves you a lot of extra time to, you know, do some shit you enjoy," Dezi said, smile devilish.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

Okay.

I loved all of Malcolm's friends and family that I had met so far. But I really had a soft spot for Dezi.

Sure, a lot of that affection likely came from his boy-like enthusiasm over my baking, but I enjoyed his presence.