Chapter 35 Malic #2
Huxley watches me intently as I retreat and pace in front of him.
My fingers work through my long blond strands as I suck in breaths.
I’m in way too fucking deep to keep this up.
I’m going to end up murdering him. And don’t tell fucking Wilder, but he’s right.
If I kill this motherfucker right now, war will happen.
Franco will know exactly who killed his prized son.
“She ever tell you about her missing coworker?” he asks abruptly, his words cutting through the air like a knife.
I stop dead. Turning on my heels, I stare at him, blinking several times. “No.”
“She ever tell you about the shit she overheard with said coworker when she was standing outside a patient's room?” He raises a knowing brow, pissing me off more.
“No,” I reply shortly again, taking a step toward him with gritted teeth.
There’s no way I’ll ever believe that he knows something about her that I don’t.
“Or that she thinks your boss is responsible for it all?” Huxley smirks, earning a swift punch to his face.
“Shut the fuck up about shit you don’t know,” I grunt, punching him in the gut. “Why would she...” I trail off, my expression falling.
“Why would she come to me and not you?” Huxley wheezes, spitting blood on the ground.
“That’s what you were going to ask, isn’t it?
” He cocks a brow. “Why would your sister not come to you, her big, bad brother, for the help she needed? Instead, she sought me out.” Now, he’s poking the fucking bear and pressing the exact buttons to get a response out of me.
He’s winning.
I’m losing.
Except he’ll be the real loser in this situation.
“Yes,” I snarl. “Tell me why the fuck she’d do that.”
Huxley smirks again, blood dripping from his nose, over his lips, and dripping off his chin. It’s a beautiful sight of red, making my hair stand on end. The monster in the back of my mind roars with delight, begging me to finish off the scum that’s obviously lying to me.
“Because she doesn’t trust you.”
That’s it.
That does it.
Red takes over my vision, and my fists fly, pounding heavily into flesh. Everything ceases to exist. This place. Huxley. The door fucking opening in the background. Footsteps coming toward me. Another presence in the room that shouldn’t be here.
That should be enough to pull me back. But it isn’t. Not until he speaks, gaining ground on me.
“God damn it, Malic!” Wilder shouts, bringing me out of the haze taking over. “You really fucking did it this time, didn’t you?” he shouts, stomping up to me. His muscular arms pull me back, and I heave several breaths. “You’re a goddamn idiot, sometimes,” he grunts as I push against him.
“It had to be him!” I grit out.
“It wasn’t me, asshole,” Huxley wheezes, dribbling blood down his chin. “I told you everything I know.”
Wilder pushes me behind him, and he scowls. “Stay the fuck away from him,” he grits out, shaking his head.
Aw. He’s not mad, he’s disappointed in me. Oh well, this had to be done. Huxley needed to learn his lesson for taking my sister from me. In fact, I don’t think I’m quite done with him. I take a step forward, but Wilder puts a hand on my chest.
“We’ll discuss more about what the fuck you did to me later.” His jaw tics several times until he turns away from me and faces the enemy strapped to our chair.
Huxley lazily grins, losing himself to the delirium running through him. Blood coats his cheeks. Swelling forms around his left eye. He’s a goddamn mess. All at the hands of me. My chest puffs out.
“Would you put some fucking clothes on?” Wilder asks, running a hand over his near-bald head.
Rude. He knows how I torture. Sans clothes and all. If blood gets on my clothing, then I have to throw it out. It’s a shame, really. And now, he’s here to rain on my parade. AKA, stopping my torture session altogether.
“Did you have a nice nap, Old Chap?” I grin, putting on my boxers.
Wilder flips me off. “No. Now, what the hell did you find out?” Oh, so he wants the information.
Interesting. Maybe I should make him work for it.
Considering I did all this by my lonesome.
Not that I needed him, anyway. He frowns at me, shaking his head.
“Malic,” he says with exasperation. “Just tell me what he told you already. I’m sure his little friends are wondering where he is.
They’ll be suspicious, and who are the first people they’re going to suspect? ” He raises a brow.
Fine. He makes sense. Although I could take all three of them at once. Well, minus the tech genius. He could probably hack my phone or something. Too bad he couldn’t find anything. I may be impulsive, but I’m not an idiot.
“It seems our prisoner is innocent. Or so he claims.” I pull my jeans up with a huff, noting how unfair this treatment is. I should be able to stay in my birthday suit for as long as I want.
“That was the last time I fucking saw her,” Huxley chimes in, wincing when his tongue runs over the split in his lip.
“And why the fuck were you even speaking to her?” Wilder asks, looking between the two of us with narrowing eyes.
“Weird, right? He claims she doesn’t trust us with certain information he hasn’t given up yet.” I take a step forward, leaving my shirt, socks, and shoes behind. Fuck it. If I get blood on my jeans, I’ll burn them to a crisp.
Huxley chuckles. “Two weeks ago, Eleanor Steele, twenty-four, went missing. Ring any bells?”
“No. Should it?” I question, narrowing my eyes at him.
Huxley huffs. “Yeah, it fucking should. It was her coworker. They overheard some shady shit at work. Eleanor went to the cops. And guess what? She’s fucking missing now. Coincidence?”
Wilder throws up a finger, processing the information. “So, her coworker overheard something at the hospital alongside Mer?”
“Isn’t that what I fucking said?” Huxley spits, rage consuming him. “Eleanor went missing twenty hours after stepping foot into the fucking police station. And now? Meredith is gone, too. You understand now?”
“What did they overhear?” Wilder cuts him off, taking a step toward him. He’s not one to want to get bloodied up, but he’ll do it if he needs to.
No. I don’t fucking understand.
“That’s a question you’ll have to ask her. Because I don’t fucking know for sure.” Something in my chest tugs hard.
“But why you?” I ask again. “Why not me or him?”
“I don’t fucking know,” Huxley says. “It was two weeks ago. She found me at the casino while I was doing my rounds. She was in her fucking scrubs, pale, and fucking shaking. I asked her the same thing...” he trails off, brows furrowing. “Why aren’t you seeking your brother? You know what she said?”
“What did she say?” Wilder asks in a deadly tone.
“That we were the only people she trusted with the situation. That was it. Nothing more. She didn’t tell me what the fuck she overheard.
She didn’t say shit. But she needed my help because she thought she had a lead on something that was happening around town.
Something that involved whatever the fuck she overheard. ”
“And what the hell did you do for her? If she didn’t tell you shit...” Wilder asks, shaking his head. “You have to be fucking lying about all this.”
Huxley rolls his eyes. “She was fucking afraid to tell anyone what happened or what she heard. She saw that Eleanor fucking disappeared for whatever she told the cops. So, do you think your sister wanted to tell me anything? Not a chance in hell. She only came to me because of my connections in Greenwood.”
“So, my sister, who didn’t fucking trust me… came to you. Another untrustworthy asshole?” This doesn’t make any goddamn sense.
“She came to ask JJ for help, digging into medical records at Greenwood Memorial. She needed information on five patients who had come into surgery and were under the care of Dr. Adriane Lohr.”
Silence eats up the space between us.
“And this Dr. Lohr? What was so interesting about these patients she was looking into?” I ask, cocking my head when he wheezes again.
“JJ pulled the files from the hospital’s server.
All five patients had a few things in common.
One, they were under his care. Two, they each went in for a routine appendectomy.
Three, they all died within three days of going home.
Despite requests, no one performed autopsies.
Five accidental cremations? Yeah fucking right.
Something more went on in those surgeries that scared the shit out of those two nurses.
” He shakes his head. “I never hurt fucking Meredith. She’s an innocent in town. ..”
“Damn fucking right she is!” I growl, clenching my fists.
“Any leads on who would have done this to her?” Wilder asks patiently. “Any clue where she could fucking be?”
I hold my breath when Huxley gives us a genuinely apologetic look and shakes his head.
“I’d start with the doctor. Maybe bring his ass down here and show him your knife collection.
The last thing she said to me was...” Huxley sucks in a breath and blows it out.
“She was fucking scared that she was getting too fucking close to something big.”
“And you let her walk home alone,” I say, gritting my teeth tightly.
“Something I’ll live with for the rest of my fucking life. I could have made sure she made it safely there. But she was fucking convinced if she were seen with me, all hell would break loose. But it was the goddamn opposite.”
“Go cool the fuck off,” Wilder grunts at me. “You got your fucking answers.”
“We didn’t get shit!” I shout. “Meredith is still nowhere to be fucking found, and now, we have to track down this goddamn doctor.”
“I’ll fucking help you,” Huxley pipes up, sighing when he places his unbound wrists in his lap.
“What the fuck? How...” I trail off, scrunching my brows when his legs break free from the bindings I put on them.
Huxley smirks, standing from the chair and slightly wavering.
“It was fun, asshole. But I need to crash. Expect retaliation.” He takes a few stumbling steps and rights himself on the wall.
“I’ll let you know if I find anything out.
I’m not giving up on this shit. There’s too much happening around here not to be suspicious.
I’d look into the loyalties the good doctor has. ”
With that, Huxley marches up the stairs of my lair and leaves like he owns the place.
“How the fuck did he get out!?” I shout, turning to Wilder, whose gaze is set on the chair.
“Who the fuck cares? You’ve created a world of fucking problems for us,” he groans, gripping his hair.
“If I had killed him, no one would have ever known, Old Chap.” But then Wilder came down here and interrupted our playtime. Spoilsport.
“Everyone would have fucking known, Malic. He’s going to waltz back into that mansion with the evidence on his face, and they’re going to know exactly what psycho did that to him. Ugh.” He rubs his temples. “Get dressed. We’re going home and...”
“Researching a doctor?” I question with a grin.
“That...” he trails off, throwing my socks and shoes at me with a stern look. “I’m not letting you out of my goddamn sights for at least a year. Boss would have lost his shit if you managed to kill the golden boy of Greenwood. Fuck’s sake.”
“Golden boy? Pffft,” I wave a hand as I continue to get fully dressed. “You feel it, Wild? You feel how close we are to tracking her down?” I question with a slight hint of vulnerability edging into my tone.
Wilder stops, turning his gaze to me. “Yeah, Mal,” he whispers with a head nod. “We’re one step closer to finding her. I fucking hope.” He whispers the last part, abruptly looking away from me.
“She was supposed to be protected at the hospital,” I say, walking up the stairs behind him. “She was safe. A good profession.” If anyone should have died, it should have been me.
“She obviously found something bad,” Wilder says, shutting the secret basement door behind us and locking it tight. “And...” He rolls his lips together, anxiety taking over his features. “We should prepare for the fucking worst.”
“Fuck you say?” I grit out.
My sane mind reminds me that, statistically, she’s probably gone. Her soul is in Heaven or the ether or wherever we go when we die. But I have to hang onto the tiny strands of her survival.
She’s still out there somewhere.
And I will find her. No matter the cost.