Malum part 2

Nate

Betrayal is the feeling of your stomach being yanked from your body. It’s watching as someone you thought you could trust, throws it into an ocean of hungry sharks. It’s feeling your trust meter completely empty. But there are a few seconds after feeling this when you go numb. You stop and think to yourself, well fuck. Now what?

I didn’t feel this when we became aware of Hector possibly being involved in Micaela’s death. I went straight to the numb feeling.

“We have to be careful with how we execute our plan,” Brantley mutters, putting a smoke into his mouth.

I stay still, my eyes glued to a spot on the wall, not wanting to show any emotion.

Bishop sits with his head hanging between his shoulders. “We can’t kill him.”

A hiss escapes my lips. “What the fuck do you mean? If he killed my daughter, Bishop, he is fucking dead, whether I take myself down with him or not.”

Bishop rubs his face viciously with the palms of his hands, the frustration evident. “He’s still my fucking dad, Nate.”

“And since when the fuck did that matter to you?” I shoot back, my eyes narrowing.

“Since we were plotting his fucking death!” Bishop stands from the table we’ve all become accustomed to at Brantley’s. He leaves, the door slamming shut behind him.

Brantley’s eyes come to mine. “He’s a dead man if this is true.”

Eli shifts uncomfortably. “Taking down Hector Hayes? The daddy of the EK? I don’t know… I get that you’re angry, man, but—”

“—but nothing,” Jase interrupts. Jase is the older brother of Hunter and Madison, but he’s always been around because of Hunter being in our generation.

Jase brings his dark eyes to mine. “If it is revealed that he was behind her death, Nate, you have my word—I got your back.”

We have a divide, but I know that has to do with Bishop. If he was all in, there would be no buts about it.

Brantley stands from the table, his phone vibrating. His eyes shoot to mine. “She’s got the book back. Now what?”

I think over his words, ru

After leaving Brantley’s house, I need something to take the edge off, so I hit dial on Billie’s number as I stroll back to my car. The keys are in the ignition, but everything smells of her. Her smell attaches itself to everything I fucking own, including my cock.

I groan, adjusting myself in my pants as I think of her perfect little cunt clench arouover me.

“Fuck,” I groan, sending a text to Billie.

Meet me outside your hotel in 10.

The sun sets against my windshield as I drop it into second gear after picking up Billie.

“I got to say,” Billie whispers from the passenger seat of my car. “I’m impressed by her royal highness,” she purrs, glaring down at her phone. I look over my shoulder and see she’s looking through Tillie’s Instagram. “Cute kid…sorry about that…”

My jaw tenses, my fists tightening around the steering wheel.

“Where are we going?” She places her phone onto her lap.

“To a meet.”

“…and why? Why am I coming to a meet?”

I run my hand over my forehead. “I need your help with something.”

“With what?” Billie says, further forcing my hand.

“I need to break someone,” I murmur.

Billie pauses. “I can’t come to a meet, Nate. It’s not allowed.”

I slam on my brakes, my tires tearing up the asphalt. I breathe in and out. “You’re right. Get out.”

Billie reaches for me and I flinch, pulling away from her.

“Get. Out.”

She spills out of the passenger seat of my car, and I slam it into first gear. She’s right. Billie can’t attend a meet. She’s not a fucking King and she’s definitely not a Stuprum.