Chapter 6
Indigo
I sat on the edge of the sagging bed, staring at my phone.
It had been three days since I'd left New York. Three days since I'd watched Dutch bleed out on his kitchen floor. Three days since I'd gotten on that bus with nothing but a duffel bag and a head full of noise.
I needed help. I hated that I needed help.
But I wasn't stupid enough to think I could survive alone.
Calling Malachai—after everything that had happened—felt like it would kill me if I actually did it.
After what happened. After his fucking indifference.
After I shoved that blade into his black ass heart.
But I had to stop thinking like that. I needed his help.
I could go back wearing my hate for him on my sleeve.
But I didn't know if I could do it without stabbing him again.
Then my mind shifted—to my father.
I was almost tempted to call him. But he hadn't spoken to me since the wedding. And he called Malachai to handle people like the men I was running from anyway. What could he really do? He wasn't going to war for me.
The annoyance sat heavy in my chest, hot and suffocating.
I exhaled and stood up, pacing the small, cramped room. My hand curled into a fist, and before I could stop myself, I grabbed the cheap lamp off the nightstand and hurled it against the wall. It shattered on impact, glass and broken porcelain scattering across the stained carpet.
"Fuck," I shouted under my breath.
I dragged my hands down my face, pressing my palms into my eyes until I saw stars. I didn't have time for this. I didn't have options.
My eyes went back to the phone resting on the mattress. Malachai… or nobody.
I swallowed hard, the back of my throat tight. Then I shook my head. I didn't want to talk to him alone. I grabbed my phone, my fingers flying across the glass screen. I scrolled to Maya's name and pressed call.
She picked up on the second ring. "Indigo? Girl, I been calling you for days! Where the hell are you? Kael said something went down in New York and—"
"I need you to do me a favor." I cut her off, my voice clipping her words.
The line went dead quiet for a second. "Okay. Talk to me, sis. What you need?"
"I need you to get Malachai to come to your house."
Another pause. Longer this time.
"Indigo... why?"
"I can't explain right now. Just—can you do it? Make sure your husband and Kael are there too. I don't know what he'll do when he sees me. He might kill me."
To my surprise, Maya laughed. "Girl, you clearly don't know what's been going on down here since you left."
I frowned, stepping over the broken glass of the lamp. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that robot man you married. You leaving gave the tin man a heart.
He's been a mess. A straight-up mess. Kael told me he ain't been working.
Just sat in that house you two shared for months, then moved out because he couldn't handle the memories.
Bought some place on the water in Tampa and basically became a ghost."
I didn't say anything. I just listened to the hum of the static on the line.
"I almost saw him cry one night," Maya continued, her tone softening.
"We were all at Raziel's place and somebody mentioned your name—just mentioned it, not even talking about you—and he got this look on his face.
Kael said later he'd never seen Malachai look like that.
Like somebody had reached inside him and ripped something out. "
I shook my head, even though she couldn't see it. "That doesn't sound like him."
"Heartbreak has a way of humanizing people, Indigo. Even sociopaths."
I stared at the stained carpet. Thought about the man I'd left bleeding on the floor three years ago. Thought about the look in his eyes when the knife went in. Shock. Confusion. Pain.
"I don't believe it, but just make the call, Maya. Please."
She sighed. "Alright. Give me an hour. I'll text you when they're here."
She hung up. I sat in the heavy quiet of that cheap hotel room and waited.
The text came an hour and a half later.
They're here. Both of them. Plus Kael. Come now before you lose your nerve.
I stood up. I looked at myself in the cracked bathroom mirror. I looked like hell—dark circles bruising my eyes, tangled hair, the same clothes I'd been wearing for three straight days on a Greyhound bus. I didn't bother fixing any of it. Let him see me like this; maybe I’d get some sympathy.
I drove to Maya's house on autopilot, the Florida roads blurring past me.
Pulling into the driveway, I noticed Maya's two-year-old daughter had a pink tricycle left out on the front walk.
I stared at it for a second too long, a sharp, familiar ache twisting in my gut as I thought about the baby I'd never hold.
I had to steady myself with a deep breath, forcing the air into my lungs, then walked up to the door.
Maya opened it before I could even raise my hand to knock.
"Girl," she whispered, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside the entry hall. "You look terrible."
"Thanks."
"He's in the living room. With Raziel and Kael. I told them I needed to talk to Raziel about something, so they're all just... sitting there."
I took a breath. Let it out slow. "Okay."
Maya gripped my arm tighter. "You sure about this?"
"No." I shook my head, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I could feel sweat dripping down my back.
She nodded like that was the right answer. "Good. That means you got some sense, 'cause he looks like he's about ready to knock somebody's head off between the sofa and the TV. I got my pistol, so I won't let him kill you, but I'm scared for you. He knows you were stripping too."
Before I could respond, Maya's husband walked up to the door. His eyes went wide the second he saw me standing in his hallway. He grabbed Maya by the arm and pulled her out of the doorway and outside onto the porch, slamming the front door halfway shut behind them.
"This is why you got everybody here?" I heard his muffled voice growl.
Maya yanked her arm back and squared up to him on the porch. "Lower your voice," she snapped, glancing back toward the door. "Yeah, this is why. She needs help. She's my friend, I'mma help her. Don't be mad, Raz. Just make sure he doesn't choke her out or something."
Maya gave him those puppy dog eyes and fluttered her lashes, using the only leverage she had. Raziel dragged a hand down his face, already shaking his head. He knew this was about to turn into something messy, something loud.
"Fuck," he said, low and vexed. He stepped back inside, bypassing Maya, and jerked his head toward the living room. "Come on," he muttered to me. "Let's get this over with."
We walked toward the living room.
The moment I stepped through the doorway, everything stopped. The air turned to ice.
Kael's whole body went completely still. Then Malachai.
He was standing by the fireplace, one hand braced heavily against the mantle.
Dressed in all black. He was thinner than I remembered, his jawline sharper, more lethal.
Dark circles under his eyes matched mine perfectly.
I wanted to scream at him for looking as broken as I felt, because he didn't have the right.
Everything that had happened to us was his fault.
He didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't breathe.
For three full seconds, nobody did.
Then he crossed the room in four long, terrifying strides—and that living room had to be at least ten feet long.
I barely had time to register the blur of movement before his hand was wrapped securely around my throat.
His fingers pressed hard into the sides of my neck, pushing me backward until I hit the wall.
My head knocked hard against the plaster.
"Malachai—" Raziel started, stepping forward.
"Stay out of it." Malachai’s voice was a low, guttural rasp, but I could feel his hand shaking violently against my skin.
I looked up at him. Straight into those gray eyes I'd dreamed about every single night for three years. They weren't empty anymore. They were full of something chaotic and roaring. Maybe Maya was right. Maybe the robot had a heart now. But then again, maybe not.
He squeezed. Digging his fingers into my jawline until my vision began to swim at the edges.
He was really fucking choking me, his face turning redder and redder with a quiet, suppressed rage. I should have been scared. Instead, I was just tired. My temper rose with every passing second, overriding the lack of oxygen.
I reared back, my hand connecting squarely with the side of his face.
The sound cracked through the living room like a gunshot. His head snapped to the side from the force of the blow. When he slowly turned his face back to look at me, there was a streak of blood on his lower lip.
He let me go, but instantly swapped his grip and slapped me back.
I knew it was a warning because it wasn't hard enough to knock me down. Just hard enough to sting. Hard enough to remind me exactly who the fuck I was dealing with.
I gasped, my hand flying to my burning cheek. But I didn't look away from him. I locked my eyes onto his.
"I owe you that," I whispered, my voice ragged and breathless from his grip on my throat. "I did stab you. Might shoot your ass this time if you choke me again."
Something shifted drastically in his gray eyes. The anger didn't disappear, but something else joined it—something desperate, dark, and looking almost like profound relief.
Then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss was a violent collision. It was desperate and hungry, three years of agonizing loneliness pressed into one single, breathless moment.
His hands gripped my waist like iron vices, pulling me completely away from the wall and crashing me into him.
My fingers tangled frantically in his hair, knocking his head back so I could kiss him deeper, tasting the copper of his split lip.
Someone cleared their throat in the room. Kael, probably. Or Raziel. I ignored them entirely.
Malachai's hands slid lower, gripping my hips, pulling me harder against his frame. His hard dick pressed directly against my stomach through our clothes. His mouth left mine to trail a path of fire down my neck, his teeth grazing my pulse point, and I moaned before I could stop myself.
I remembered when he said he could give me teeth and pain. I remembered how I'd wanted it then. I wanted it right now. I should have kept him at a distance. Because the moment his skin hit mine, my body turned traitor. It recognized exactly who he was, and it hummed to life.
I missed him. It was hard to keep hating him when his hands were on me.
His hands were everywhere. One pressed flat on my back, arching me up into him, the other gripping my hip so hard I knew there'd be dark marks there by tomorrow. He rolled his hips against me, and a small whimper escaped my lips. Fuck.
"Malachai."
He answered by hoisting me straight up off the floor.
My legs locked instinctively around his waist, my back hitting the wall again.
The new angle was devastating. Nobody but me had touched my body in three years.
He pressed hard into the cradle of my thighs, and I literally saw stars.
His mouth found my neck again, teeth grazing my pulse, then biting down on that exact spot that turned me to liquid.
My pussy was so wet. My head fell back against the plaster, a loud cry ripping from my throat.
I panted, drowning completely in his scent—smoke, steel, and pure male.
His hands shoved roughly under my shirt, his warm palms burning my bare breasts. I writhed against him, needing more, needing it now. I fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, needing his skin. Needing to taste him.
"Malachai—" His name came out completely broken.
"Okay," Maya's voice suddenly cut through the heavy haze in my head. "If y'all fucking, know we got cameras in here and I will put you all on OnlyFans." She laughed, the sound loud and intrusive.
I pushed against his broad chest. It took way more effort than it should have; my muscles felt like lead. He let my legs drop, but his hands stayed firmly on my waist, clamping down like he was terrified I'd disappear if he let go completely.
"We need to talk," I managed to get out, my chest heaving.
He nodded, his breath hot against my face. "We will."
I opened my mouth to speak—
Then I felt it. A sharp, cold pinch against the side of my neck.
I reached up, confused, my mind sluggish. My fingers brushed against something metallic in his hand. A syringe.
The room suddenly started to tilt violently. The walls blurred.
"Malachai, you fuck ass bit—"
He caught my limp body before I could hit the ground.
"Shh." His lips pressed gently against my hair, his arms wrapping around me securely.
The very last thing I saw before my eyelids failed me was his face. Those gray eyes watching me, completely wide open, filled with something I'd never seen in him before.
Then everything went dark.