50. JJ
JJ
“Pancakes will really take the sting away, Enemy Number Three,” Malic gleefully says, thrusting a large plate of pancakes in front of me with a knowing grin.
Maybe I shouldn’t eat these, considering we’ve been sworn enemies since the moment Franco took over this college and invited Shadow’s heirs to reside here.
An angle I’ve never quite understood, considering we aren’t fully aware of who Shadow is.
It’s like inviting an invisible enemy into your castle and letting them view everything you have up your sleeve.
Obviously, Franco knows something we don’t quite know.
What that is, I have no fucking idea. But I’d love to know who is in charge of Wilder and Malic.
Maybe I can use this to my advantage.
Malic may be a maniac in the fighting ring, but every time he looks at Olivia, he melts into her words. No matter if steam is flying out of her ears and her eyes could saw through his flesh with one look. She has some sort of hold over him that I don’t think she’s aware of.
Hell, I don’t think he’s aware of it either.
There’s something here. Something I can work with. Even if I’d rather toss Olivia over my shoulder, run through the front door, and lock her in my bedroom for eternity. He’s using her for blackmail. I can use him in the same capacity.
“Seriously, Enemy Number Three, you’ll love them. Wilder may not look like it, but he’s an amazing cook.” He pats Wilder’s shoulder roughly three times, jostling him in his seat.
But it does nothing to bring Wilder out of the stupor he’s been in since I walked through the door. Although I don’t blame him. He’s discovered the biggest secret he’s ever come across.
I was the same when I realized the love of my life was still alive and had hidden herself so cleverly from me.
Wilder sits in the chair across from me with a bewildered look on his face.
Pale. Shell-shocked. Hollow. Whatever you want to call it, he looks like he saw a ghost rise from the dead right before his eyes.
I guess in his eyes, he did. Everyone in this town knows Olivia and her family are dead.
Their graves aren’t too far from here. Now, three people know her secret. Me. And the enemies of Franco.
This complicates everything.
Especially Olivia’s safety.
The more people who find out about her still breathing, the more her life is at risk.
The Viottos could come to collect their missing heir and force her into a life she hated.
Franco could catch wind of her existence and end her, too.
Her cockroach of a father could crawl out of whatever hole he’s been hiding in for years and take her away from me. If he’s still alive, that is.
Any option is a death sentence.
A death sentence I don’t want to subject her to. Not again. She’s alive, and I’ll bend over backward to keep her that way.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that she’s here.
Even if I’ve known longer than anyone in this room.
Her funeral feels fresh in my mind. The grief, sorrow, and pain from losing her.
Now, it’s voided by the breaths she takes every day.
I’ve been trying my damnedest to keep her safe while keeping her burning secret.
Now, more than ever, it’s pertinent that her identity stays under wraps.
Especially with so many dangerous people on campus and all the criminal heirs occupying the houses on Syndicate Row.
If they knew she was here, they’d put her head on a spike. Fuck. My anxiety soars through my veins at the ever-present danger around every corner.
“So, now that we’ve all come to a fun understanding…” Malic trails off with another grin as he grabs a fork.
“Blackmail,” Olivia hisses. “You’re blackmailing me into participating in this conversation.”
I don’t say anything when Malic’s brows raise and softness sparks in his eyes when he looks at her.
Every muscle in his body deflates, and he seems so unlike himself.
Definitely not the man who parades around campus with fire in his eyes, scaring the fuck out of everyone.
My gaze pivots between the three of them, taking in their strange dynamic.
Honestly, they’d be a psychologist’s dream to study.
“Blackmail, shmlackmail,” Malic says through a full mouth of pancakes as syrup drips from between his lips and onto his day-old stubble lining his jaw.
“I’m not the first one to do it?” His gaze flicks to me, and he grins more while openly chewing his pancakes.
“Am I?” He chuckles when my brows rise, practically acknowledging that I had to blackmail her, too.
But it was a necessity. She was avoiding me at every turn and skipping class.
Fuck.
Am I as bad as Malic Monroe? The fucking maniac of campus? Also, how the hell did he find that out?
“Fuck you, Malic,” Olivia hisses again.
“Oh, but we already did that, didn’t we, Crumpet?” He winks, earning another glare full of disdain. “And it was splendid.”
“Let’s not talk about that,” I mutter, picking up the fork offered to me and sighing as I cut into the pancakes despite my stomach turning.
“Let’s not,” Wilder mutters in agreement, turning a bright shade of pink and focusing on his food again. But not before his eyes drift to Olivia, who glares at the damn wall, refusing to meet anyone’s eye.
“Grand. Great! Let’s not talk about anything. I have to go,” Olivia grumbles again, pinching the bridge of her nose, but doesn’t try to stand.
“Ah, ah, Little Ghost. We have plenty to discuss,” Malic reminds her.
“Now, eat some more pancakes. The stress looks like it’s eating away at you, and you need food to fuel your body.
” He pushes more pancakes in her direction, but she doesn’t touch them.
In fact, she puts her nose up at them with a huff.
“I promise they’re not drugged. Well, this time,” he chuckles softly.
Olivia flinches back. “Not drugged? Well, I’d fucking hope not!” She huffs a few breaths, a fury sparking in her eyes. “What do you mean this time?” she snarls, slapping her hands down onto the countertop.
Malic tilts his head slightly. “I may or may not have slipped a little Tylenol PM into your drinks. No biggie.” His grin widens when she growls at him. “Okay, so big biggie. So sorry, Little Ghost. I promise I kept you very safe and…”
“Shut up!” Olivia curses under her breath and shakes her head.
“We’ll talk about this later when my head doesn’t hurt so goddamn much.
” Gently, I reach over and put my hand on her shoulder for support and gently squeeze until she relaxes, and I take my hand back.
“So, what exactly do you want?” Olivia asks, shifting in her seat.
“No more pancakes or distractions. I want words and only words.”
“I already told you, I want you to help me find out what happened to my sister. Dig into police reports and surveillance footage from casinos and hotels. Anything you can get your hands on. I want culprits. Leads…” He trails off, slowly chewing his food and swallowing.
His eyes dart to me and narrow slightly.
There’s a deadly spark in his eyes before his gaze flicks back to Olivia.
“And in return, I’ll keep your secret. Although I’d love for you to come snuggle with me every Sunday.
Naked, too.” He tilts his head. “Yes. In fact, I’m blackmailing you for custody of you and for your help. My keeper wants in, too.”
Olivia levels him with a glare that could probably set him on fire if she were trying.
“Custody?” she grits out. “I’m not a damn child.”
“Yes, custody,” Malic says through a mouthful of food again. “After this, you’ll never want to see me again, and we can’t have that. Besides, I’ll always know where you are.” He taps the side of his head with his sticky fork and grins when she glowers at him more.
Well, he’s definitely in the doghouse now. More so than me. If he wants surveillance footage and police reports, I can help her hack into them so he’ll back off and leave her alone, so her secret is safe within these walls.
“I don’t even want to ask,” Wilder mumbles, pushing his food around with his fork.
“How about you, Enemy Number Three? Do you need custody of her, too?” Malic asks gleefully, perking up when my gaze snaps to him.
“Custody? I don’t need custody,” I say, straightening my spine. “She’s mine.”
Malic snorts. “You see, that’s where you’re wrong.
She isn’t only yours. She’s mine, too. And his.
So, I’m offering an olive branch here. Something that won’t come around again.
I’m a selfish bastard, and honestly, I don’t like to share.
And if we’re sharing our true feelings, I don’t like you or the other fucks, either.
I could pluck you from that chair right now, twist your neck, and you’d never be a problem again.
” He grins as he says it, making my fists curl on the table. “How about that?”
“Malic,” Wilder hisses, slapping him on the chest. “Simmer the fuck down. If you’re trying to compromise, you’re not doing a very good job of it.”
“Absolutely not, Keeper. He’s trying to take what is mine, and I’m offering to share. Besides, this is our fucking house.”
“She’s not a goddamn toy,” Wilder grits out.
“For the first time in my life, I agree with him,” I say, nodding toward Wilder, who glares at the two of us with fire in his eyes.
“And you wouldn’t get close enough to break my neck.
” I smirk when Malic straightens his spine and loosens his shoulders.
“You could try, of course.” But I’m quicker than he thinks.
I may not fight at the Coliseum, but I live with my two best friends who love to throw punches.
And me? Well, I’ve learned how to dodge their anger. One swing at a time.
“Want to bet on it, Enemy Number Three?” Malic coos, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “It would only take two seconds for you to realize you’ve lost and then bam!” He claps his hands together dramatically. “Lights out.”