33. Malic #2
I huff to myself when my phone buzzes and “Keeper” flashes across the screen several times as phone calls and text messages pop up. I tilt my head, noticing the number of times he’s called me. Twenty-five, to be exact.
So sorry, Keeper. I was preoccupied and on the trail of my sister. I swear, I’m so close to finding her; I can feel it tingling on the tips of my damn fingers.
I’m coming for you, Meredith. I swear to all things holy that I will find you and then slaughter the people responsible for your disappearance.
I will not fail you.
“Why’re you so obsessed with me?” I mutter to Wilder in a high-pitched voice, as it echoes off the sprawling gym walls we’ve set up for ourselves. “Poor, poor, Keeper. Can’t find me since I took your tracker off my phone.” I chuckle to myself with a grin.
Silly goose. He can’t keep me in a cage. No one can. Not anymore. No matter how many times he threatens to tie me to his bed and keep me in his grasp. Kinky. It’s not attainable. Wilder would have to knock me out and put a tracker in my ass. Only then could he follow me around without me knowing.
Hmmm. A tracker in the ass.
That’s not a bad idea.
I rub my chin and tilt my head as thoughts race through my mind. My little ghost managed to remove my first tracker from her jeans pocket. Now, I have an idea of how she knew it was there and what it was.
Agent Seven of Veritas.
I wonder if I could lick the answers out of her pussy until she can’t take any more. Then she’d spill every little secret in her brain.
A grin spreads across my lips. Yes, in fact. I think I’ll do that.
How many licks does it take to get to the center of my little ghost’s secrets?
Hopefully a lot.
I lick my lips, shaking myself out of the fantasy of her and me locked in my bedroom for hours on end. Soon. So, so fucking soon. As soon as I can get my newest plan in motion. I need to get Olivia into my bed and never let her leave. But, you know, more awake this time than the last.
It’ll be perfect.
Handcuffs. Trackers. The whole damn shebang.
I’m getting hard thinking about kidnapping her and keeping her for eternity. I’ll keep her safe and sound, tied to my bed.
My phone buzzes again in my hand. Dear Keeper, you’re awfully persistent. If I didn’t answer the first time, then what makes you think I’ll pick up now?
I tilt my head, looking at the urgent notification flashing bright red on my phone. SlamApp. A new important post has been pushed to everyone’s phone on campus. Odd. That only happens when the dean herself has something important to say.
The squeak of a door in the distance takes my curiosity from the phone in my hand to the keeper slamming through doors and stomping this way.
Oopsie. I made him mad by ignoring his calls.
He’s finally come to collect me and take me home like the bad boy I am. Well, it was fun while it lasted. Me and myself. Oh, and the good doctor. But I won’t tell Keeper that secret, just yet. She’s mine to play with right now. If he plays his cards right, then he can come and join me.
My eyes narrow when his heavy footsteps pound against the linoleum by the front desk, quickly coming in my direction.
I swivel on my heels with a grin. “Hello, old chap! What brings you out this late?” I grin when Wilder’s pale face greets me in the doorway of our sparring room.
“Mal,” he says slowly with heaving breaths, like he ran the two miles from Syndicate Row to the gym.
Odd. Usually, he hops into his car or straddles his motorcycle.
“I’ve been trying to fucking call you for the past fucking hour,” he hisses, shaking his head.
“Have you been here the whole fucking time?” His eyes dart around the room, taking in our sparring room.
A tightness forms over his face, but he slightly deflates.
Odd.
“So sorry, Keeper. I’ve been busy,” I hum, pulling out my phone and examining the screen lit up with multiple notifications from Wilder again.
“Fifty texts? That must be a new record for you. Ohhh, and phone calls, too! You must really like me.” I chuckle at my joke, shoving my phone into my pocket again.
Not sure how I didn’t realize he was texting and calling.
Whatever. He’s here now to deliver whatever he needs to say.
Probably a tongue-lashing on my extracurricular activities.
“Why the worried look, Keeper? What’s got your knickers in a twist, eh? ”
“You haven’t seen. Fuck my life,” he whispers more to himself than to me.
“Seen what exactly?” I raise a brow, really interested in what he has to say.
“Have the fuckwits retaliated yet against Boss?” The fire at the docks his other minions set was a delicious rebellion against the evil that is Franco.
A way for Boss to put his hat back in the ring.
Although I’m very curious who else works for Boss.
We should have a company potluck and a fun meet and greet, because I’ve never been clued into his other minions, which is odd.
Boss Man keeps me in the loop on his activities, but hasn’t lately.
“Malic,” Wilder says with a pained tone, holding up a hand as if to placate me. “Listen to me. I need you to not react to this. Or stop and think about shit before you run off doing whatever it is you fucking do. Think rationally. You got it?”
My muscles tense. A sense of foreboding weighs heavily on my chest as Wilder’s eyes look me over again. “What?” I bark out, taking a step toward him. “What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”
A switch flips inside me. From the look on his sweaty, pale face, I know something has gone wrong.
My keeper licks his lips. “I… You haven’t seen SlamApp, have you?”
The urgent SlamApp notification.
“I’ve been preoccupied.” You know, trying not to kill a doctor who’s full of useful information. He doesn’t know that fact yet, so I haven’t pissed him off in that regard. I cross my arms, staring at him expectantly.
“Fuck me,” Wilder grits out between clenched teeth, shaking his head.
Silence hangs between us as he grabs his phone from his pocket and clicks a few times.
“I thought you might be here blowing off fucking steam or…I don’t know.
I swear to all things holy, Malic. If you break my fucking phone…
” He trails off, handing it over to me, but stalls midair.
“Malic, look at me,” he practically barks out like never before.
He means business.
And in the back of my head, red warning lights flash and alarms blare.
Something is wrong.
“Yes, Keeper?” I say lightly, staring deep into his eyes with a grin I don’t feel.
It feels like the universe is about to shift and split, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“What have you discovered today on SlamApp?” I raise a brow, ignoring the words in the back of my head blasting that something is wrong.
Very, very fucking wrong. Wilder doesn’t come to track me down for no reason.
It’s either I’m out too late for his liking, and he needs me home, or something has happened. Something…
My hair stands on end when Wilder gives me a pained expression, tears forming in the big guy’s eyes.
“I think it’s Meredith, Malic. But…” His voice quivers slightly with emotion. Emotion he doesn’t let anyone else see.
I don’t let him finish. I snatch the phone away from him. My heart beats in my throat the second I scroll through SlamApp. For the first time in years, the numbness that accompanies me like a shadow following me everywhere breaks into bits.
Rage consumes every molecule in my body, like fire swallowing me whole. My fingers tighten around his phone as I stare at the pictures some asshole posted straight to SlamApp. I ignore the comments. I ignore the room I’m in. I ignore the breaths roaring in and out of my flared nostrils.
The only thing I can focus on is the images of her.
Meredith.
My sister.
They’re close up. Displaying her delicate features on zoom. The small slope of her nose. Her long brown hair curled and prettied up. Makeup sits on her face, brighter than she’d wear it. Her fingers interlock over her stomach, displaying the small shooting star tattoos she got on her index fingers.
“Look!” she says with a grin, extending her left hand to me. “I got my first tattoos last night. Aren’t they pretty? Shooting stars, Mal.”
“Well, well,” I hum, checking both of her fingers over and making sure I don’t touch the fresh ink. “Shooting stars, huh? Good fortune. Dreams coming true…”
She grins more, taking her hand away from me.
“It’s a…” She hesitates for a moment. “It’s a rebirth.
A fulfillment of all my dreams coming true.
” Her eyes are glued to the new tattoos lining the outside of her index fingers.
“Everything seems to be finally clicking into place. Next week, I’ll graduate from nursing school. ”
My jaw clenches as I go over the pictures.
One time. Ten times. Twenty times. Obsessively checking every goddamn detail of the pictures.
Her. Meredith. Lying on a sheet of white, illuminating her innocence.
Delicate pillows prop her head up. Blue lips.
Stitches on her eyes, almost blending in with her lashes.
It’s almost as if she’s in a goddamn casket already.
Dead.
Alert! Another body in Greenwood! **Pictures Attached**
Caption: The snake wears a smile, hiding its secrets behind the mask of a friend, biting the innocent who step too close to the den.
My eyes refuse to leave the proof of my sister’s existence. She lived. Really lived. She was innocent, vulnerable, and I fucking let her die.