50. JJ #2
“Stop fucking antagonizing him,” Wilder bites out, shaking his head.
“But why? It’s fun,” Malic quips.
I roll my eyes, stuffing a bite of pancakes into my mouth. I’d never admit it to the bastard, but they’re perfectly fluffy and taste like heaven. The best pancakes I’ve had in years.
“Bring it on.” I swallow my bite, grinning when Malic watches me with an expressionless face, tilting his head.
“Jesus Christ. Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one of the bunch?
” Wilder asks, tossing a hand out. “If you challenge him, he’ll fucking take it, and I’d rather not have to explain to anyone why your body is buried in the backyard,” he huffs.
“Especially your two little friends who will come sniffing around. Just what I need.”
“The backyard, Keeper? Is that where they all go?” Malic asks.
“Shut the fuck up. Both of you,” Wilder gripes, taking a bite of the pancakes and chewing aggressively. “Or I’ll bury everyone in the fucking backyard before riding off into the sunset where Mafia assholes don’t exist.”
“You and me both,” Olivia grumbles under her breath.
“Right. So, custody, then,” Malic chirps happily again, leaning his elbows on the table. “I get Sundays. All day. She’s mine. In my bed.” He gives her a pointed look. “Wilder can join, too. Only if he wants, though. We do make quite the tripod.” Malic beams at his reference.
“A fucking tripod?” Wilder rolls his eyes. “Have you been watching stupid 2000s movies again?”
“It’s a possibility.” Malic shrugs. “Don’t act like you hate watching them. If I do recall, your One Tree Hill marathon had you in tears.”
Wilder huffs a few breaths. “Shut the fuck up, Malic. I swear to God.”
I chew several times, trying to not only to digest the fucking delicious pancakes but also what he’s saying as he continues to ramble about custody of Olivia. Not to mention the tripod reference that has my mind reeling with realization.
Tripod.
Wilder blushing?
My gaze darts to Olivia, who continues to look anywhere but at us, her cheeks stained red. There’s a rigidity to her muscles, and her fingers curl into fists.
Fuck.
I’ll worry about that later. Olivia and I are still not on the best terms yet. I can delude myself into believing that she’s coming around, but something traumatic happened to her in the final hours that cut her off from trusting me. Even with this.
“And we get her the rest of the days? You don’t mind if she initiates into our Syndicate and works for us? Then she can come back here and let us know what you two are up to.” I grin when Malic’s smile drops.
Gotcha.
“Hmmm. Fair point. No spying,” he says, pointing at Olivia, who watches the entire conversation with her lips parted and a redness coating her cheeks. “You’re not allowed to run back to them and tell them what we’re doing.”
“And vice versa,” I add, earning a nod from Malic.
“Fuck you!” she says again, throwing her fork down. “I am sitting right here. You can’t talk about taking custody of me when I’m right here, and I have a fucking say in this. I’ll spy if I fucking want to. I’ll do whatever the hell I want to do.”
“She has a fucking point,” Wilder mutters under his breath.
“But I know your answer, Crumpet. You’d say no.” Malic shrugs a shoulder, taking another bite. “And you really don’t want to say no. You want to visit me often and let me sex you up.”
“Never fucking say that again,” Olivia groans, throwing her head back in frustration before slamming her hands on the table and demanding all of our attention.
“Also, I wouldn’t say no. I’d say hell fucking no.
Are you arguing about custody or whatever bullshit you’re saying?
I’m my own woman, and I won’t let people ever drag me down or hold me back.
Not again,” she says through gritted teeth.
“I had a father for that, and you know what he did? He put bars on my fucking window to keep me locked away. I had a family legacy for that, too. Fucking Mafia assholes who thought they owned me and my body and thought they could marry me off to the highest bidder. So, no. I won’t be used like that again.
You don’t get to do that.” Her chest heaves with agitation by the time she’s done speaking.
Reaching over, I put my hand in hers and squeeze her fingers with mine, trying to reassure her that no one would ever be able to take advantage of her like that again.
Malic slows his chewing as he seems to digest her words. “You’re right,” he states, taking another bite.
“Whoa. Wait,” Wilder says, sitting tall now and looking between the two of them. “You…agree with her? That she’s right?”
Malic chews slowly and nods. “Yes, Keeper. Quite the phenomenon, isn’t it? But she’s correct. Olivia shouldn’t be caged again. She should be free to do as she pleases.”
“So you won’t blackmail her?” I ask, raising my brows. “Or fight for her attention?”
“Never said that, Enemy Number Three,” he quips, shoving more pancakes into his mouth. “You see, Olivia has never been built to be a one-man woman. She’s built for more. More men to handle her, and I’m willing to share that. For now, at least.”
“When the fuck did you get so agreeable?” Wilder gripes with a frown.
“You fight everything. And sharing? Pfft. That’s not in your fucking repertoire.
Especially with the damn enemy!” He rubs his temples more now.
“You’re going to give me an aneurysm. Who the fuck are you and what have you done with Malic?
Do you have a goddamn fever?” He puts his hand across Malic’s forehead with a huff.
Malic finishes off his pancakes with a scoff, scooting the plate away.
“Same old Malic, old chap. I’m changing.
Pivoting. Or whatever the hell you’d like to call it.
I can share. I shared nicely last night.
” Wilder blushes again, fiddling with the unlit cigarette behind his ear.
The same cigarette he darted off to his room to retrieve before we sat down for our talk.
“See? I can be accommodating. Obviously, old love doesn’t die.
” He nods to me like he’s the wisest fucking person in the room.
“So I humbly request your presence here on Sundays.”
“Why Sundays?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.
“Cuddles. Nakedness. Fucking. Sucking. Reporting to me what you’ve found. Meals. And I do mean eating you, of course, Crumpet.” He grins, listing off everything with his fingers.
What I wouldn’t give to cover my ears and never hear those words come from Malic ever again.
It’s odd, though. To see him so ensnared in Olivia that he wants her all to himself for a day.
I’ve never seen him with anyone else but Wilder.
In fact, I don’t know much about these two except that they work for our enemy. The Shades. Mack hates Wilder for…
Olivia blushes. “For fuck’s sake,” she grumbles, rubbing her temple. “This is stupid.”
“Agreed,” Wilder mutters, shaking his head, but his eyes tell a different story. With every word Malic spoke, his eyes lit up with the thought of having her again. Maybe more this time.
Fuck.
My stomach rolls, threatening to send the pancakes back up my esophagus.
I don’t need those images in my head. Not of them together.
All three of them. Olivia has been mine since the day she looked at me when I arrived at my newest foster home.
I blow out a breath, trying to count to ten inside my head when all I want to do is reach across and deck Malic across the face for talking to her like that.
I never in my life thought Olivia would branch out, meet other people, and give herself to them.
We were her first. Her everything. We wanted to be her forever.
But plans change.
And I can’t exactly take him on in his own fucking house. He’d fucking murder me, and Wilder would help him. No. I have to keep a level head while dealing with the two of them.
So, I continue to count in my mind as the silence grows around us.
“Good. Now that we have that established,” Malic says, pushing his plate away with satisfaction. “Did you kill her?” he asks, looking at me. “You and your little bros? Or try to, at least. Obviously, she’s stronger than what you threw at her.” Pride shines in his eyes as he looks Olivia over again.
“No,” I grit out. “We didn’t harm her. We never would.
We were told it was an electrical fire while we were in Vegas, securing a new casino and watching it for fraud.
We weren’t in town, and we’d never hurt her.
Ever. She was our fucking everything.” My chest heaves when I say that.
“We never would,” I whisper, my eyes slowly finding hers, pleading with her again to believe me.
She squeezes my hand still attached to hers with reassurance, but doesn’t utter a word.
“Well, you’re in luck, because I think I believe you. It’s all about the eyes, lad. Watch those, and you’ll see someone’s soul. You see that, Keeper? He’s actually telling the truth.” He bumps Wilder a few times, who glares at him.
“So happy you believe me,” I sarcastically huff.
“And you, Little Ghost? Do you believe what he says?” Malic leans in slightly, looking through her as her eyes dart from me to him.
“Because if you don’t, I can get rid of the competition with the snap of my fingers.
It’s my oath to you. I’ll slay your enemies one by one.
Even if it’s him and his fuckwit friends.
” Malice drips from every word he speaks, with the intent to do what he’s pledging to her.
“Yes,” she says easily, but I can tell she’s holding back and not telling him everything. I know she doesn’t fully believe us yet, because she doesn’t have the evidence back from whoever she sent it to. “I believe him. They didn’t do it.”
“I’ve brought her proof, and that’s all you need to know on the subject. Whatever happened between the four of us doesn’t concern you.” Not ever.
“Wonderful. But someone did, didn’t they? Any leads?” He leans his face on his hand, grinning.