4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
“S omebody needs a wax. It’s not the seventies,” Malcolm drawled in his strange accent, with a smirk as cruel as it was cocky. “Bush aside, what do you say, Con?”
I interrupted before Connor could say shit about my bush. “Oh, let me guess, you prefer bald pussies? I kind of got a pedo vibe from you—”
Malcolm clamped his huge hand around my neck, his pale-gray eyes storming with malice. “What did you say to me, bitch? Say it again, and I’ll strangle every last fucking word right out of you.”
Before he could make my eyes bulge out my head, to my pleasant surprise, Connor shoved him. Malcolm’s beefy hand released me.
“She’s not worth it,” Connor muttered around the toothpick in his mouth.
I held back a cough and forced myself to breathe evenly. I wouldn’t give Malcolm the satisfaction of knowing he’d cut off my air for even a split second.
“She’s maybe a two out of ten.” Connor shook his head with a sneer. “ If I’m being generous.”
Heat rose to my face. Anger, not shame. I knew I had a good body and a nice face, because no matter what, I was still my mother’s daughter, and she’d always been drop-dead gorgeous.
“Nothing to see here,” Connor added, his toothpick bobbing. Between that and the pen he’d had in his mouth last night, I was beginning to think he had an oral fixation. “Except the gutter grime she’s dripping all over our floors. Mop that shit up, street leech.”
Malcolm pointed to the bathroom behind me, his bare, muscled arm flexing. “Who told you that you could use our shower?”
“Well, since I live in the apartment, the way I see it, I should have access to all the common areas, just like you guys.”
Connor jerked his head toward the hallway, flipping his dark hair into his eyes. “You live in that hole. Not out here. Remember what we discussed, Malcolm.”
And just like that, Connor spun on his heel and left, leaving me and Malcolm alone.
Malcolm’s gaze slid up and down my bare, dripping form. He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into something almost amused.
“That first shower was a freebie,” he said, still leering at me. “Next one, you pay.”
“I’ll take a shower whenever I want,” I replied coolly. “And I won’t owe you a damn thing. And if you push the issue, I’ll take it up with Dean Bennett and see what he has to say about the matter.”
Malcolm laughed, a low, wicked sound that slithered under my skin. “You won’t say a damn thing to Dean Bennett about what goes on in this apartment. Nothing’s free here, Princess. And just so you know, you won’t last five minutes in this place.”
“You’ve underestimated me,” I shot back. “I can survive anywhere.”
“We’ll see about that.” He looked me up and down one more time and shook his head, laughing quietly to himself as he walked away.
Without that mountain of a man near me, the size of the apartment seemed to double.
As I headed through the living room, my pulse racing, Connor glanced up from the couch. He cocked his head, folding his arms as he narrowed his brown eyes at me.
I’d given up even trying to cover myself. I was no prude, and it’s not like they were the first guys I didn’t want to see me naked who did anyway.
Connor took his toothpick out of his mouth. “What do you think you’re doing out here?”
I was about to tell him that I was looking for Kade, when I noticed my skirt and bra crumpled on the floor next to where Connor sat. Unfortunately, Connor’s gaze followed mine, and he casually slid his leg out, his combat boot pinning my clothes to the gleaming hardwood.
Damn it.
Anger flared up inside me, sharp and hot.
“Oh, so you like looking at me naked, then?” I raised my brows.
That got an eye roll out of him, and he moved his foot. I crossed toward him and yanked my skirt up from the floor. As I did, a folded piece of paper slipped from the pocket. I lunged, but that bastard caught it midair.
“Give me that!” I demanded.
The second the words left my mouth, I sagged at my mistake. Connor’s crafty eyes flicked alive with interest. He’d heard the desperation in my voice as clearly as I did.
“Get your sad little titties out of my face,” he said, leaning back, evading me.
He stood, opening the note—Mom’s note—and held it high out of my reach.
It had been in the envelope with the cash for tuition. It was short, cryptic as hell, and I knew it word for word.
Go to Whispering Ivy. Find out everything you can about the Lifewell. Do whatever it takes. Don’t trust anyone.
Love you most.
“Give that to me, Connor,” I said, blinking back the tears that threatened to fill my eyes. “Please.”
I would never beg, but in this case, asking nicely was absolutely worth it to me.
His eyes widened as he read it.
“Where did you get this? Who gave you this?” His voice dropped to a whisper, each quiet word filled with venom.
“That’s none of your business,” I hissed back, my heart humming in my chest. “That’s mine. Give it back.”
He smiled, a show of surrender, and plugged his toothpick back inside his mouth.
Relieved, I exhaled and held out my hand.
Without a word, still smiling that almost sweet smile, he refolded the note and ripped it cleanly in two. Then, like he was making confetti, he shredded the halves to bits, all while I watched, frozen, paralyzed by the loss, the pain as sharp as if he’d been tearing my own skin. With dead eyes, he released the pieces, letting them flutter into my outstretched palm.
He stepped forward, closing the space between us until I could feel his cinnamon breath on my face. “If you know what’s good for you, you will forget you ever heard the word Lifewell. And if I find out that you’ve even thought that word? I will make you fucking regret it.”
I shivered. But I’d be damned if I’d let him see it.
For all intents and purposes, though I didn’t know when she’d written it, that note included my mom’s last words to me. Her last love you most . I’d found the note moments after I’d found her in the shed in our rental’s backyard, rigor mortis already setting in.
It was just a note, though. I still had her voicemails on my phone. Pictures of her and her smile. Still, my heart squeezed.
While Connor watched, I pulled on my skirt then my bra. Who knew what Kade did with my shirt, but a bra was basically a bikini top, so hopefully I wouldn’t scandalize anyone on the way to Mr. Owen’s classroom.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Connor asked as I turned toward the door with my chin held high.
“None of your damn business.”
“I thought I made myself clear. You use the back door inside your hole.”
I squared my shoulders, giving him my best “get out of my way” stare. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’ll use the front entrance whenever I want to. Like now.”
He moved to block me. “Don’t try me, street leech.”
“What are you gonna do?” I challenged, forcing my voice to remain steady. “Come up with a new and different insult? Kill me?”
“No, sweetheart. I won’t kill you.” He leaned in, closer, closer still, threatening my eyeball with the other end of his toothpick, until I flinched. “I’ll just make you wish you were dead.”
Part of me already did wish that.