4. Malic
Malic
Hunting my unsuspecting prey this early in the morning is usually more…thrilling than this. Give me screams, blood, and a thrilling chase. Not this. The air is fresh, quiet, and there’s not a hint of bloodshed on the horizon.
Booorrrriinnngg! Come on, boys! Give me some entertainment! Come after me!
Something. Anything.
I yawn, leaning against a large tree outside the mansion on the hill, overlooking the graveyard. The Fuckwits’ house. My enemies. The boys I want to squish for existing. And I will one day.
Soon.
But not today.
For three paranoid idiots with cameras everywhere, they never know I’m here. Ever. Even Mack and the dog walked right past me an hour ago without a clue.
The light wind blows, swaying the trees and blowing across my skin. Yawn. Something exciting needs to happen. Maybe Hux will finally pop out and declare war on me.
War sounds exciting. Bloody. Fucking glorious. No matter how much of a party pooper Wilder is.
Or maybe…
My thoughts trail off when JJ emerges from the front door with his shirt barely on and his shoes untied. Things just got interesting. A constipated expression crosses his features as he hurries away, unaware of his stalker.
Me.
Okay, maybe my entertainment has arrived. Now what does little JJ have in store for me? Hmmm, where is he off to so early in the morning? He barely emerges on a good day. Only to go to class and back home. Usually, he’s attached to his laptop.
Ask me how I know.
I follow behind him, concealing myself in the shadows of the trees and never being seen. Like always. It’s my specialty to watch, observe, and then report back. Or, to make mental notes of the situation and keep them to myself for later.
A grin splits my lips as I watch his every frantic move. There’s a shakiness to his steps—an urgency to his movements.
Now would be a grand time to read minds.
Oh, what a superpower that would be. Although torture sessions would be less spectacular.
I flick my eyes back to the man of the hour, noting the thick sheets of sweat trickling down his temples, and the determined look on his face as he propels himself through the groups of people lingering on campus.
JJ might not be an exciting little bug to track, but there’s something in the air. Static? A premonition of sorts? Whatever it is, the moment JJ does whatever his pea brain has set him out to do will be a game-changer.
I’m certain of it.
It’s a pity my keeper, Wilder, was still sound asleep when I slipped out the front door to prowl around campus and set my eyes on my enemies. He could have stopped me from witnessing this. Or he could have come and shared my nonexistent popcorn.
Not that he’d appreciate this stakeout, anyway.
“I’m going to chain you to your bed. Fucking…don’t do anything else stupid,” Wilder growls, standing outside my bedroom. “No more kidnappings.” He points a disappointed finger in my direction.
My dearest keeper is so disappointed in me. A shame, really.
“Scout’s honor.” I grin, crossing my fingers behind my back.
He doesn’t have to know I have no honor. Not right now. Not when my sister is missing, and a doctor is at large with possible answers. Not to mention her missing coworker, who witnessed what she did.
Two missing girls. One suspected doctor. Maybe I should remove her spleen and see how she likes it. Make her sing like a little birdy.
Oh, yes. That sounds delightful.
Wilder pinches the bridge of his nose. “Malic, I’m fucking serious. You kidnapped Huxley goddamn Crewes! If he informs those other two fuckheads, our heads are going to roll!” he shouts, tossing out a hand. “And boss! He’ll be pissed as shit. He told us to be good.” He glares at me now.
“I’ll be a good boy, Daddy.” Not a complete lie. I’m always a good boy. Well, in my eyes, anyway.
Wilder scoffs at me, taking a step back. “Don’t call me fucking daddy. It’s weird! God. Just sleep. You’ve been up all night. And I need more sleep. Whatever you gave me—”
“Tylenol PM. Three, to be exact,” I interrupt with a grin. “It should wear off soon. You’ll feel tip-top soon, old Chap.”
He scowls more before walking away and shouting, “Stay in the goddamn house! I swear to God I’ll put a tracker on you if you don’t stop running away. God, you’re like a toddler!”
Oh, he’s regretting his position as my keeper. It’s too bad he’s stuck with me forever. We’re like a married couple—a packaged deal. I wonder how my little ghost would feel about Wilder being around all the time. You know, when I carry her down the aisle and bind our souls together forever.
Would Wilder want to join in on the festivities?
Wait. Would I want him to join? Images of the three of us together with my little ghost squished between us, moaning and writhing in ecstasy.
Calling out both our names as we both enter her.
Oh. Oh, yes. I see this happening. In fact, my rising dick says it’s a possibility.
I’ll make that happen.
“Kinky,” I quip back, earning a door slam and silence in return.
Rude.
To say sleep evaded me was an understatement.
I mean, who can sleep when last night’s non-torture session happened?
No blood. Screams. Guts. Or anything exciting happened to relieve the constant stress weighing on my shoulders.
The only answers I achieved were about Meredith and maybe why she disappeared.
“Malic, I need you!” Mere’s voice rings in my head, followed by the images of her dirty face, distorting in pain, begging me to save her from the nightmare she’s been pulled into.
“Fuck!” I growl, smacking the side of my head and shaking away the false images of my sister. It’s not real. It doesn’t fucking exist. She’s okay.
She’s alive. Somewhere. She needs me to figure this out. Find her.
That’s why my impromptu meeting with Huxley was so vital.
Even if he was useless. Per fucking usual.
Frankly, he’s nothing but a bloated king with a chip on his shoulder.
One, I’d love to knock off and show him his true place.
Beneath my damn shoe. You know, I was looking forward to not only finding my sister but making Huxley pay in all the best ways.
Not just for speaking to my sister behind my back and luring her in with a false sense of friendship, but all the other bullshit he’s pulled over the years.
Hearing his screams echoing off the basement walls would have been the cherry on top of everything.
Too bad my damn keeper ruined it.
After he told me about my sister needing money and coming to him for help with the organ-stealing doctors, that was all she wrote.
Wilder woke up from his sleeping-pill-induced sleep and ruined it all with his conscience.
Meredith is still missing, and Huxley still has his testicles.
Barely. Next time, I’ll make him squeal like a pig.
And it’ll bring me great joy to do so.
Fuck the consequences. Fuck the war that could come. Bring it on, Franco. Come and get us. We’ll be ready for you. Like we always have been. Except this time, we’ll take it all. The key to the kingdom will be ours.
Every moment I had with Huxley in my basement has been bouncing around inside my brain since Wilder made me walk away and go home.
Even when I lay my head on the pillow and attempted to squeeze my eyes shut.
All I saw was him tied to my chair. All I heard were his words about Meredith.
So, sleep never came. Even when Keeper’s snores came through the walls as the sun rose and painted my bedroom in its bright rays.
Dr. Lohr. Meredith. Eleanor.
Their names repeat in my head repeatedly—the two missing nurses and the surgeon who still draws breath.
It feels like a shitty math equation, and I’m the only one clever enough to solve it.
It’s a bummer for Dr. Lohr that I have my ways.
I already have her address tucked away for more special festivities later.
Her work schedule. Every event she’s coming to on campus.
Every social event she’s about to appear at.
Dr. Lohr will have her day in my chair. Her screams will fill the room with desperate pleas to be let go.
Freedom won’t be a choice for her anymore.
She’ll never see me coming. And that’s all for the better.
I do enjoy a nice surprise. I want her blood on my hands.
I want answers to every fucking question I have about Meredith.
She’s ground zero for everything. At least, I think. All at a later date, though.
Right now, I’m trying to decide whether war has descended between Franco’s fuck boys and us.
Evil versus evil.
The shadows of campus beckon me more as I continue to follow JJ on his warpath. Or maybe not so warpath. I tilt my head when he finally makes it to his destination. A familiar place.
My little ghost’s dorm building.
A protectiveness unfurls inside me, tensing my muscles.
My fingers twitch, eager to march in there and pluck him away from her.
Every bone in my body screams she’s mine.
If he is going to see her. That’s a big if.
Because what if he’s not? What if he has a toy of his own stowed away in that building?
Doubtful. Those three have been more celibate than…
Well, me. Kind of. A massive grin splits my lips.
Memories of that night soar through my mind.
Everything inside me relaxes. I have one up on those fuckwits.
Her. She’s mine. For always. I lost her once.
Like they did, only I’ll keep finding her over and over again.
Which begs the question—what exactly is JJ doing running into her dorm building like his ass is on fire, looking sweaty and pale with a hint of constipation? Has he discovered the devious little secret she’s so desperate to keep hidden?
It’s plausible.
Even hidden beneath a heavy disguise, I knew who she was the moment I smelled her at the bar. Like a fucking dog with a bone—I got what I had always wanted. Her. My little ghost.