Malum part 2

Nate’s thigh presses against mine, but I flinch away from him.

He laughs. “Bit late for that considering I’ve had my dick in you tonight.”

Everyone goes about their business, well acquainted with Nate’s and my toxicity on display for everyone.

I ignore him, not taking the bait. I’m tired. I want Daemon to tell me everything is going to be okay. I miss his presence and his touch. Why am I attracted to the depraved? It’s like my soul attaches itself to darkness, lurking on the wicked because the disenchantment in mundane-like souls isn’t enough to spark fire in mine. All the men in my life have one thing in common—evil.

Nate seems to shuffle around a lot beside me. Going from his thigh jiggling to his hand grabbing at his hair, back to his thigh jiggling.

He’s frustrated, like a ticking time bomb about three seconds away from exploding.

This carries on the whole way to Brantley’s house.

My eyes go to Madison when we pull up. “Are you coming in?”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m going home. Alone.”

“Fuck that!” Bishop finally yells. “You’re going to explain this shit once and for all!”

“I don’t have to explain shit to you, Bishop! Get out!”

My eyes fly between the two of them.

“If I get out of this car, Madison, it will be forever,” he growls softly.

Goddamnit, Madison! Fucking tell him. For the life of me. She’s about to lose this man forever if she doesn’t open her trap.

“Please do,” she murmurs, her eyes looking out the window.

I watch as Bishop flies out the door, slamming it in his retreat.

“Madison…” I try.

“Don’t.” She shakes her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t deserve him, and there’s so much.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I give her thigh one more squeeze and then climb out the door. The limo pulls away and I start thinking that Nate went with her, but then I hear his footsteps behind me.

They’re heavy.

Angered.

I know our fight isn’t over.

He whistles out. “Tillie!”

I don’t answer, half because I’m mad at him but mainly because I’m not a fucking dog and what is with him and whistling to girls. Instead, my feet pick up their pace, the only problem with this is that my heart speeds up with it. I want to run. Not Madison run, I mean workout run. Or just run for my life run because fear ripples up my spine when I hear his footsteps thud against the pavement behind me, and suddenly, I’m flying forward, dropping my clutch to the ground and bypassing the front door, whipping to the side of the house. I drop my shoes when I pass the gardens, tears rippling down my face.

His footsteps are getting closer, heavier, but I zip forward like a bolt of lightning and head straight for the opening in the forest. Blades of damp grass whip my ankles as my hair falls from its high ponytail, flying out in the wind. The tears won’t stop. Why am I crying?

Why is my mind a maze of scribble? Why am I broken? Why does he hate me so much? So many fucking questions. That’s why I’m crying. I dash down the dirt path, my toes sinking into the mud. Just as I reach the entry to the Vitiosis cemetery, I stop ru

“You’re going to shut the fuck up and listen to the words that I’m about to say…”

I do as I’m told, because Nate angry is scary as shit and my self-preservation isn’t on drugs.

He searches my eyes, his almost black. His lips part as he sucks in air. “You want to know why I hate you?”

I didn’t want to know now.

He squeezes my cheeks which make my lips pop out. “I’ve already told you this, but I’m going to repeat myself one more time. You fucking remind me of her!”

I freeze.

Oh no. No, I don’t want to do this. Not right now and not after everything that has already happened tonight, please, I don’t want to do this. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“You gave me the most beautiful little fucking girl in the world, and I broke her, Tillie. My world touched her and now? Now I’m always reminded of that because of your existence.”

Tears stream down my face, my throat swelling from pain. Pure, undiluted pain ripples through my blood and soars through my eardrums.

He carries on. “I’m battling an internal war with myself every second of every fucking day. I hate you. I hate your smell because I remember what it smells like mixed with her i

Fire burns in my chest at the mention of her name. I don’t want to listen to this.

“You’re going to hear me, Tillie, because you think that my hate for you, that my feelings toward you are as shallow as Bishop had for Madison. You know me. I don’t fuck like that. You should have known that there was more to me being like this. But you fucking didn’t. You thought I hated you because fuck knows why, because you think it gets my dick hard like it did Bishop. You’re wrong. It’s far fucking deeper than that.”

He exhales, his hand coming away from my mouth and resting on my throat.

“I never wanted to fucking hurt you. Never. But every fucking day. Every fucking day I’m reminded. I’m haunted by her through you. Yeah, that may not be your fault, but it’s how I’m dealing with it.” His lip curls. His eyes drop to my mouth, his thumb pressing over my bottom lip. “How you used to kiss her goodnight every fucking night with these lips.” Then his eyes turn ablaze, coming straight to mine. “Or how about the fact that you had more time with her than I did. I was fucking robbed.”

The tears haven’t stopped and my heart snaps in my chest. He’s right. I thought the only reason he was throwing his hate around at me was because of some sick King game that they liked to play. Riddles, hate sex, vicious abuse. It’s all their foreplay. Now he’s saying that it wasn’t the case with me? I’m confused. Hurt, dazed, and confused.

His hate is deeper than a flesh wound. I see it now. It’s in his bones and it’s there to stay.

My eyes close. “I’m sorry.”

He flies off me and I slowly stand up from the ground.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know it went deeper than that.”

He grips at his hair and tugs on it. “You need to get your shit sorted, because I can’t be around you much longer.” His eyes come to mine. “I’m going to break you beyond repair if it’s not done soon.”

“Don’t—” I shake my head, stepping forward. My fingers itch. I need to make him feel better. Just for right now. Not for tomorrow or yesterday, I need to make him feel better for right now. He stills, his eyes staying on mine.

“I’m going to break you, Tillie.”

“Then don’t, Nate,” I answer through a whisper, my hand going up his chest and curling around the back of his neck. I stand on my toes and yank his face down to mine, my eyes searching his. “Don’t break me.”

He’s so close I can feel his heavy breath on my lips, and then I lean forward, his soft lips brushing mine. I kiss him softly, not an open mouth kissed, but not a closed mouth kiss. It’s an in-between kiss. He keeps still, not moving.