Chapter 20
20
MALICE
I lie in bed, unable to sleep. My mind replays over and over what happened in my car after school. Rue thinks if she succeeds in this job, people will leave her alone and stop talking behind her back.
Too bad small towns are feeding grounds for gossip. The only way Rue will get her happy ending is to leave Delridge. But she has no plans of leaving.
Why the hell not? What’s stopping her from leaving? Is it Isaac? I glance at my closed bedroom door. She is two steps away, also awake. I heard her shuffling in there.
Rue is a flight risk. Case in point: she did leave through the window. Rue could also be in danger. She did put in my head the idea of an arsonist on the loose. Without someone keeping a close eye on her, Rue could do something stupid and get herself into a situation she can’t get out of.
Yeah, it’s time someone saved her from herself.
I throw off the covers, open my door, and rap my knuckles on hers.
“Rue?”
Nothing.
“Rue, open up.”
“What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“Can’t we do that tomorrow?”
“You’re awake. I’m up. Unless you’re afraid ?”
The door swings open. “I am not scared of you, Malice Sterling.”
“Good.” Looking her up and down, I walk past and plop down on the bed. She is mighty fine in a pair of light pink shorts and a white tank top with a rainbow that spans across her perky tits.
“What are you doing?” She stands by the open door with her arms crossed.
“Settling down for a night of keeping my eye on you.” I pat the spot next to me. “Come here.”
Her eyes narrow. “Don’t want to.”
I make clucking noises.
“ Malice. ”
I reassure her I don’t bite.
“Says you.”
I roll my eyes. “Come on, Rue.”
She shakes her head.
“Please.”
She sighs. “Fine, but only because you used the nice word.” She takes a spot across from me with her legs crossed. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Whatever is on your mind.”
“Sleep,” she answers.
“Before that.”
“Nothing.”
“It was more than nothing. I could hear you stomping around.”
“I was rearranging the room.”
I glance around the decent-sized room. There is a pine dresser across from the bed. A large monstera plant is tucked in a corner where it gets enough sunlight through the west-facing windows. There is an empty bookshelf against the wall opposite the windows. Nothing is out of place.
“Try again.”
She picks at the covers. “I’ve been thinking.”
“That’s not good.” I rest my head on the headboard.
“It never is, is it?” She bunches the covers in her hand.
“If something’s bothering you, I promise to listen and not judge.” Thinking back on our conversation in the GT-R, I admit I was one judgmental S.O.B. But Isaac has done nothing decent to change my mind that he’s a dead man walking. One of these days, he’ll rip off the wrong guy or guys and find himself six feet underground.
“It’s about our kiss,” she finally says, her words bringing me back to Rue and her “thinking.”
Jesus, which kiss sucked for her? The one on our way back from her morning walk? Or the one Red interrupted?
“I kissed you without your consent. My anger over what you said about my mother doesn’t give me the right to take what wasn’t freely given. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Ah, so it was the morning walk one she regrets.
“Has it happened before?”
She is leaning forward with the covers bunched in her hands. Her hair falls around her face, and I tuck the strands behind her ear.
The better to see her with. Rue has an elegant profile. I could stare at her all day.
“You’re the first. You make me so angry.”
The feeling is mutual.
“If Trace makes you mad, will you swap spit with him?” The idea of my best friend touching my girl pisses me off.
“Never.” She looks up. Her jaw is clenched, and her eyes shoot daggers at me. “You’re the one who suggested Trace kiss and touch me to keep other guys away.” She hurls a pillow at me. I catch it with one hand and set it aside. “How could you think I would ever hurt you by flirting with any of your friends?” She sighs and shakes her head. “You must have a low opinion of me.”
“What about Red? You mess around with him. He’s my cousin , Rue.”
“Red might be related to you, but first and foremost, he is my friend . Friends tease and have fun with one another. That’s what friendship is. I am not friends with your friends. Therefore, teasing them amounts to flirting. That’s not okay to me.”
“Let me get this straight using your logic. I can’t tease Leigh because she is your friend; you would consider it flirting. But I can tease and flirt with you because we’re friends.”
“We are not friends.”
“Then what are we?”
“Enemies. We hate one another, remember?”
Right.
“Once Trace breaks up with me, I should be okay from the rumors. Your bro code is strong, and everyone will trust that you”—she points at me—“and me”—then to her— “will never happen. Otherwise, you risk losing your friendship with Trace. It was a good move on your part, Malice.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“Either way, Trace won’t be my fake boyfriend, and people will stop thinking we’re sleeping together just because I’m living with you.” She grabs the pillow she had thrown at me and hugs it. “I ruined your friendship with Red. I won’t make the same mistake with Trace.”
“I can’t leave you unprotected, Rue.”
“You won’t. Where you go, I go, and vice versa”
“I can’t be on school grounds with my suspension.” A week of doing nothing but twiddling my fat thumbs at home. “You can’t miss school and get bad grades because of me.”
“I’m not planning on it. Seven and Leigh will pick me up. I’ll take detailed notes. We can’t have you bombing your tests next week.”
“Promise?” I ask.
“Pinky swear promise.”
I wrap my thick pinky around her small one. “And the jerk with the broken nose?”
“He won’t bother me anymore.”
“Isaac?” I ask, going out on a limb.
Seeing how they were together at Isaac’s place, I have this gut feeling Isaac would do anything to keep Rue safe. And I hate that he has that kind of power earned from fear while I’m powerless to do anything other than punch the guy in the face and get reamed by my father.
She doesn’t answer. Her silence confirms my suspicion.
“Do you accept my apology? This is a job, and I acted unprofessionally when I kissed you. It’s not right, Malice.”
“Other people do it. It’s called a workplace romance,” I say half-joking, half-serious.
“What happened between us is a disaster waiting to happen.”
“How so?”
“You hate me.”
“Yeah, I do. And I recall you promised to hate only me.”
“You can’t have it both ways, Malice.”
We hate one another, yet this undeniable pull begs to be explored. Can we have it all? I’ll prove to her we can. First, I’ll start with words. Then, later, I’ll put my words into action. My words and actions currently don’t match up, and I plan to rectify that.
“What is the antonym of love, Regret ?”
I swear I’m not a smart guy. This is a game of Rue’s we played before our friendship soured.
“Don’t.”
“Do,” I say. “Play the game.”
“Fine.” She sits back on her heels. “The antonym of love is hate.”
“And of regret?”
She reaches for her cell phone on the nightstand. With her dark brow angled toward her cute nose, Rue taps on her phone and says, “I choose fearlessness. My turn. What’s the antonym of malice?”
I know the answer. I’ve looked it up before in case Rue someday asked. “Goodness.”
She smiles, and fuck me, she is downright sexy. I pull her on top of me. “Love, fearlessness, goodness. It’s what’s inside you, Rue.”
“Only you think so.”
I tsk. This girl. She kills me with her attitude and her insecurities. “You wouldn’t have a great friend like Leigh if you weren’t all of the above.”
“Do you like her?”
“She’s cool.”
“Because she didn’t cause a rift between you and Seven like I did with you and Red?”
“Family matters are different,” I grumble.
She folds her arms and rests her chin on them. We stare at one another. Rue has the prettiest brown eyes.
“Mason at the auto parts store is hiring. The faster you meet the conditions, the faster I’ll be out of your hair and your place.”
“You never answered my question. How is what’s happening between us a disaster in waiting?” Doesn’t Rue want to work and collect a paycheck until school is over? Not to mention, her room and board are free.
“You’re meant for bigger and better things than living a simple life here.”
“Maybe I want simple.”
“Not here.” She rolls off me, gets off the bed, and opens the door. I follow her.
Rue doesn’t make eye contact. Her attention is on a spot over my shoulder. I have an idea what she is lost in thought about. I step forward and stand close enough to caress the arch of her cheek with my knuckle.
“Is it because of the memories of us? Of what could have been had you not lost our baby?”
She glances up with sadness on her face and fire in her eyes. “Don’t you ever bring her up again. She was never yours.”
I should leave and let Rue have the last word. Except I can’t. Two years ago, she left me hanging about our baby. A girl, huh? I can see Rue with a baby girl in her arms.
I grasp Rue’s hand in mine and set it above the spot over my heart. “She will always be mine. Will always live here. I’m sorry you went through what you did.”
The pain and sorrow Rue must’ve felt… I let go of her hand and wrap my arms around her, bringing her close until her thin body is flush against mine. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and our baby.” My throat tightens, and my chest aches. “We need to talk about what happened.”
“Not tonight. Please.” Her voice trembles, and this vulnerable side of her is one I’ve only seen once before. It was the night I made her mine, and she made me her first.
“Eventually, can we?”
She untangles from my arms, taking the heat with her.
“Yes, but not when I hate you with all my heart. I’m sorry.”
Rue stares at the floor. Long, inky strands fall forward and frame her face. We can talk about what happened, but not when she hates me. What is the antonym of hate? Love. Loving her is the answer to freeing us from our past and our anger. Maybe then, she’ll let me in, and we can finally have that talk about our baby.
“I accept your hate. Your hate is what keeps me going in life. Your hate is what will keep me by your side. Hate me all you want, Rue. I can handle it.”
I leave her and walk into my room with purpose in my stride. I grab my cell off my nightstand and do something I thought I would never do. I text Red.
Me : Can we talk?
Gray bar. Three dots.
Crazy Cousin : Rue?
Me : Yeah
Crazy Cousin : WTF with Trace?
Me : Sorry. Breaking up tomorrow
Crazy Cousin : Thank fuck.
Gray bar. Three dots. Whatever he’s trying to tell me, I beat him to it
Me : Do you have feelings for her?
I wait. Seconds pass. Then minutes. Pissed that he has the upper hand, I toss my cell on the nightstand and flop onto the bed with my arm across my eyes.
My phone pings. I snatch it and glance at the screen.
Crazy Cousin : Fuck off
I smile. Typical. Red’s a jerk. I set my cell phone down, strip down to my boxers, and get under the covers. Sleep doesn’t come easy. I toss and turn, anticipating another eventful day with Rue.