Malum part 2

Tillie

Nate backs me up against the cold cell, examining me. “You like this, huh, Princessa…”

I shake my head, refusing to show any fear. Nate is like a shark with fear. He senses it in the water, and he thinks it’s feeding time. “No. I don’t. What are you doing and why am I here?”

My eyes go over Nate’s shoulder and land on Brantley, who watches me carefully. “Brantley?”

Just when I think he’s going to say something, maybe put me in my place for questioning them, his mouth snaps shut. I watch as he disappears back through the way we came.

“He won’t help you. Stay here and don’t move, Tillie. If you try to escape, we will kill you.”

I don’t know why there’s a part of my brain that doesn’t believe he would do that. You don’t keep someone alive through a lot of turmoil only to off them if they do something so insignificant like not listening. Nate smirks as if he hears what I’m thinking. Backing up slowly, he exits my cell, flicking the lock closed. His eyes never leave mine.

“There’s always a reason why we do the things we do, Tillie—remember?”

I don’t take the bait, sliding down the cold wall and landing on my butt. There’s a long pull of silence before I hear the door open and close again, and then Brantley’s boots come into view out of the corner of my eye.

“What is it, Brantley? You guys won. Go and celebrate by snorting more cocaine or fucking more girls…” I don’t want to talk to Daemon until they’ve all left, and part of me is still trying to calm my erratic brain from all of the possibilities of why, and how, he’s still alive.

Brantley unhooks the lock, the heavy clinking of metal jerking me out of my thoughts. He opens the cell, stepping inside. I brave myself to bring my eyes up to his as he leans down to my level, his elbows resting on his knees.

His palm comes to my face. “Kiss me.”

“What?” I ask, confused. My eyes fall to his swollen lips.

He squeezes my cheeks slightly, his face coming closer to mine. “Kiss. Me.”

I lean forward until our lips touch, warm velvet skimming against mine. Slinging my arm around the back of his neck, a moan slips out of me as I pull him closer. I kiss him because I’m angry. I kiss him because I’m hurt. And I kiss him for the probability of Nate watching somehow. Just as his tongue slips into my mouth, I exhale from the intrusion. His kiss is as calculated as his character. He gives enough without giving too much. He sucks on my bottom lip, licking me across the rim. His arms wrap around my waist, bringing me to my feet. Thick thighs separate my legs, stretching me wide as his body sinks against mine, shoving me up against the metal bars. He lifts me up by my thighs as I wrap my legs around him, all while his mouth continues to assault mine. My stomach flutters, my core pulsing. I want him. I have always somewhat wanted him, to an extent, and now that Nate has well and truly shattered any and all trust that I had in him, I’m feeling reckless. If you hurt someone enough, they acclimatize to pain, but just like a wound, if you don’t seal it, you’ll bleed out.

Brantley pulls away, placing me back on my feet while grabbing my hand. “Now, you owe me twice for getting him mad, and princess, I will be collecting.” He continues to drag me out of my cell, unlocking the one beside Daemon and shoving me inside. I turn, just in time to see him shutting the door.

“Brantley…” I want to apologize. I want to say so many things.

He shakes his head. “Don’t, Tillie.”

I know I owe him for saving me from Nate more than once or twice, but before I can address my gratitude, he leaves, and it’s not until I hear the heavy steel door slam closed that I slide down to my ass, drawing my legs up and turning my head to face Daemon.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Daemon scrapes closer, grasping onto the bars that separate our cages. “I have seen much worse, Puella.”

My heart squeezes in my chest from the use of my nickname. I thought I’d never hear it again. “I thought you were dead, Daemon. We all thought you were dead. We all mourned you.” Madison pops up inside my head and I wince. “Did everyone know but me?”

Daemon shakes his head. He’s wearing tattered jeans and a shirt that looks like it’s seen better days. “No.”

I massage my temples. “My god. Madison doesn’t know you’re still alive?” I screech, shaking my head.

Selfishly, it does make me feel better knowing that my best friend didn’t betray me, but a bigger part of me is now terrified about what’s going to happen when she does find out. Her and Bishop are already on struggle street, I’d hate to know what’s going to happen when she finds out that he’s been hiding the biggest secret of all from her. Her fucking twin brother being alive. My eyes fly up to the little camera that’s sitting in the corner of my dark cell, the bright red dot signaling they’re watching. I flip the camera off.

There’s a light chuckle from the corner and I freeze. “Who’s that?”

Daemon clambers backward, and though I can’t see much in this lighting, I catch a glimpse of the scar on the back of his neck, reaching to the front. How the fuck is he still alive?

I narrow my eyes in an attempt to get a better look at the silhouette hidden in the darkest corner of my cell. “I swear if that’s you again, Nate, I’ll cut your dick off this time.”

Another chuckle, and then the figure steps forward, the slight light from the small window forcing itself through the bars on the window.

He’s wearing a dark hoodie, shading most of his face but I can see the fine edge of his sharp jawline. His jeans are destroyed from wear, not for vanity. A heavy black belt hangs low around his waist. My eyes travel up both of his arms that are covered with long sleeves, but I can see tattoos sneaking out on his hands. I continue up his large chest, past the Nike emblem on his hoodie, up to his neck. His neck. I freeze, licking my lips. His neck is completely covered in dark ink, skulls and roses and some kind of scripture. Ta

Holy. Shit.

“Do I know you?” I whisper, all thoughts flying out of my head. He is beautiful. But he looks familiar. He looks. So. Familiar.

He brings his hand up to his hoodie and flicks it off to rest around the back of his neck. “No.”

“But…”

His jaw ticks, his eyes flying to the body lying in the cell opposite me. I can’t stop staring at him, though. I probably should stop staring. Next to Nate, he would be the second hottest guy that I had ever seen. That used to be Bishop, but—I freeze, my wits now one-hundred percent working because I step forward, grabbing his chin with my hand, forcing his face back to look down at me.

His emerald eyes search mine, not giving anything else away.

I stop breathing, my grip tightening around his chin.

The corner of his mouth kicks up in a dark smirk. The kind I know all too well, only this one is—frightening. “Yes, seems I have a relation that you know.”

“Relation?” I gasp, shaking my head and finally letting the poor boy go.