34. Wilder
Wilder
A sinking feeling grows wider in my gut, like a black hole, the longer I stare at Malic and his unchanged facial features. Fuck me. Everything about him has ceased to exist since he looked at those pictures of Meredith on SlamApp.
He’s retreated—his mind going into a void I can’t pull him out of. He sees me. Hears me. Moves with me as I instruct him to get into the fucking car so we can find Meredith and possibly save her. We won’t know for sure what’s happening if we don’t fucking move. Now.
“Mal?” I say in a steady voice as I turn the car on.
Peering over at him, he blinks several times, robotically putting on his seat belt.
It clicks into place, and he falls back into the chair, staring ahead.
No words fall from his lips, but he tilts his head.
“We’ll find out who did this, okay?” My words come out soft, with a hint of vengeance woven through.
Because we’ll find out who did this, and we’ll fucking end them for ever touching his sister.
The only response I get from Malic is the curling of his fingers. No words, again. But at least I know he’s still alive inside his mind and not rotting away.
Although I can’t decide which side of Malic I like better.
Quiet but deadly, with a stare that could kill a stranger from a thousand feet?
Or loud and boasting threats of ball removal?
It’s a toss-up, honestly. But there’s one thing I know for sure.
This side of Malic is going to be the biggest fucking challenge of my life.
Why did it have to be Meredith? Couldn’t it have been anyone else?
A stranger. A bad person who deserved it.
I really hoped she’d had enough of this place and ran away without a goodbye.
A shitty exit? Yes. But it’d be better than this bullshit of her being posted on the fucking internet for everyone to see.
How degrading and disrespectful.
I’ve been anticipating this moment since we learned Meredith had disappeared off the face of the earth.
I thought I had more time. More ways to find her.
Alive. Not dead. Not like this. She was innocent.
Carefree. A woman I didn’t think we had to worry about.
Fuck. Mal even had extra guards watching over her from time to time to make sure she made it home safely.
Not that she knew. They always stayed hidden. But that night? They were off duty.
Off duty when Meredith needed them the fucking most.
They were the first people Malic interrogated within an inch of their lives when he realized she was gone. But they didn’t provide anything useful. They were doing business for Boss and couldn’t elaborate. Even Boss confirmed they were doing something.
I blow out a breath when we pass X Marks the Spot.
The very bar she was last seen at with Huxley fucking Crewes in the alleyway, discussing…
Well, I’m not honestly sure. Huxley didn’t elaborate.
Probably lied his ass off to save himself.
He’s been born and bred to be a fucking liar. All of them have.
“You think we should visit Nick again and discuss Meredith? I bet he knows something.” My teeth grit at the mention of Nick, the owner of X Marks the Spot.
The last time we saw him, he pissed his pants so badly that he practically ran away.
I mean, Malic has that effect on a lot of people by the sheer size of him.
But Nick was suspicious. I know there’s more there, too. Maybe he didn’t hurt Meredith, but he’s involved with something. I feel it in my gut. Or maybe I’m losing my edge, because this is the biggest mystery we’ve had to endure.
Malic doesn’t answer. Again. He watches the bar pass by with unblinking eyes.
He won’t budge from his vow of silence until he fucking bursts with rage and loathing, taking out all his feelings on the person he feels deserves it. And I’ll be the one to pick up his fucking pieces.
As usual.
I’ve been with Malic for years. Right by his side, guiding him through life so he doesn’t commit so many goddamn felonies.
Not that it’s helped much in that department.
His only savior is Boss, getting him out of jams. I’ve seen him low before.
I’ve seen him on a high. Life has truly been up and down with him.
I blow out a breath, focusing on the empty roads. Bright streetlights accompany us as we pass through the middle of town, over the bridge, and toward Greenwood Hotel, which sits between two popular casinos owned by Franco. It’s not a desolate area. Someone around here has to know something.
“I bet we could pull surveillance footage from those buildings.” I peer up and notice several security cameras mounted on the outside of each casino. At least they’re properly protected. “Looks like the hotel has some, too.” Hopefully, on the outside as well, so we can see who came and went.
Gravel crunches beneath my tires as I pull into the parking lot. Only a few cars are parked in the spaces, and one I recognize stands out among the rest—a shiny, black sports car.
“Fuck,” I grumble, guiding my car into a close parking spot.
“Looks like Boss might be here.” I peer over to an empty seat and the passenger-side door, standing wide open.
When the fuck did he get out? Or move. Or fucking react?
Malic stands outside the door with a frown on his lips.
“Malic?” I ask again, putting the car into park.
“So, he knows?” Malic finally says, staring up at the hotel with a blank stare again.
His eyes dart left and right, taking it in.
Every inch of him tightens, and he blows out a breath.
“Come on, old chap. Let’s go find my sister.
” There’s a tightness to his voice. A resignation that he’s about to see his sister for the first time in weeks, but she won’t be alive for the reunion.
I follow behind Malic as he slowly leads me through the lobby and toward a room at the very end of the first floor.
He stops outside the red door, staring at the worn golden plaque that reads Presidential Suite.
Malic’s fingers roam over the plaque like he’s taking it in again for the first time since being back here.
A haunted look crosses over him, clearing out the blank expression he wore the entire drive over here.
His fingers trace the name of the suite over and over again, like his mind is torturing him and forcing him to relive the hell he went through behind these four walls.
Malic has never divulged the entire story of his childhood. Honestly, I’ve never told him the extent of mine, either. I know the bare bones of what his mom forced him to sleep and live in. Boss let some things slip here and there. Malic is my best friend, despite my babysitting position with him.
“Why here?” Malic growls, stepping back from the plaque. “Of all the fucking places.” His voice dips low, and he turns to look at me with wide eyes, shaking his head. There’s an odd sense of vulnerability radiating off him. Something he doesn’t show the world. Ever. Not even me.
But I guess when you’re dragged back to the place that molded you into who you are, you can’t remain unaffected.
Whispers and sounds come from inside the suite.
Flashes of bright white light stream through the crack beneath the door, illuminating our shoes.
Someone fumbles with something, and then the door opens abruptly, and a man steps out, shutting the door tightly behind him before we can get a peek at what’s happening inside.
More voices ring out from behind the door, and more flashes brighten beneath the door’s crack.
The man’s dark eyes take us in as a heavy breath heaves through his chest. His fingers run through his greased black hair, and he shakes his head grimly, offering Malic and me an expression of sympathy.
“Boss,” Malic grits out, standing tall and wiping every emotion he felt in the past twenty seconds off his face. Now, he’s the warrior Boss raised him to be. Even though he’s only been with Boss since he was fifteen. Rescued by him from this fucking place we stand before.
“Malic. Wilder,” he says, tipping his head to each of us with a grim expression. “You boys can’t go in there.”
Malic’s muscles tighten, and a snarl forms on his lips, but he takes another breath. The only person Malic will ever reel himself back in for is the man who taught him everything he knows. The man he holds the highest form of respect for. Our boss.
“My sister,” he says through gritted teeth, pointing to the door. “What’s happening with her? Is she…?
“Meredith, yes. I’m sorry, Malic. But she’s gone and has been for some time.
” Boss puts a hand on Malic’s shoulder, staring straight into his eyes.
“You’re going to want to remember your sister for who she was.
Not the girl lying on that bed. I’ve made that mistake too many times in my life, boy.
You do not want to see her in this state. ”
“We already have,” I speak up, pulling his gaze to me. “They were put all over SlamApp. Pictures of her…” I shake my head when my words fail me. Because who does that? Who puts pictures of dead people on the internet for the world to see and witness?
A fucking psychopath, that’s who.
“I’m aware, and they’ve been taken down,” Boss says sternly.
“They never should have been posted in the first place.” There’s a sense of disgust in his words when he looks between the two of us.
“Chief Ellis is in the room right now with the crime scene investigators. They’re upending every fucking inch of that room to find out who the fuck did this.
You understand? You go in there and see her, you’re going to ruin the fucking evidence.
” He lifts his brows as he says the words, basically sending us on our way without grieving the loss of Meredith.