Malum: Part 2 (The Elite Kings' Club Book 5)

by Amo Jones

  Malum: Part 2

  Copyright © 2019 Amo Jones

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imaginations. Any resemblance to actual person’s, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art

  Editor: Ellie McLove, My Brother’s Editor

  Proof reader: Petra Gleason, My Brother’s Editor

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Acknowledgments

  Other Books

  This is dedicated to my Wolf Pack. For having my back when I didn’t have myself and for the daily laughs, cries, and impactful messages. This is for you.

  Tillie

  Nate backs me up against the cold cell, examining me. “You like this, huh, Princessa…”

  I shake my head, refusing to show any fear. Nate is like a shark with fear. He senses it in the water, and he thinks it’s feeding time. “No. I don’t. What are you doing and why am I here?”

  My eyes go over Nate’s shoulder and land on Brantley, who watches me carefully. “Brantley?”

  Just when I think he’s going to say something, maybe put me in my place for questioning them, his mouth snaps shut. I watch as he disappears back through the way we came.

  “He won’t help you. Stay here and don’t move, Tillie. If you try to escape, we will kill you.”

  I don’t know why there’s a part of my brain that doesn’t believe he would do that. You don’t keep someone alive through a lot of turmoil only to off them if they do something so insignificant like not listening. Nate smirks as if he hears what I’m thinking. Backing up slowly, he exits my cell, flicking the lock closed. His eyes never leave mine.

  “There’s always a reason why we do the things we do, Tillie—remember?”

  I don’t take the bait, sliding down the cold wall and landing on my butt. There’s a long pull of silence before I hear the door open and close again, and then Brantley’s boots come into view out of the corner of my eye.

  “What is it, Brantley? You guys won. Go and celebrate by snorting more cocaine or fucking more girls…” I don’t want to talk to Daemon until they’ve all left, and part of me is still trying to calm my erratic brain from all of the possibilities of why, and how, he’s still alive.

  Brantley unhooks the lock, the heavy clinking of metal jerking me out of my thoughts. He opens the cell, stepping inside. I brave myself to bring my eyes up to his as he leans down to my level, his elbows resting on his knees.

  His palm comes to my face. “Kiss me.”

  “What?” I ask, confused. My eyes fall to his swollen lips.

  He squeezes my cheeks slightly, his face coming closer to mine. “Kiss. Me.”

  I lean forward until our lips touch, warm velvet skimming against mine. Slinging my arm around the back of his neck, a moan slips out of me as I pull him closer. I kiss him because I’m angry. I kiss him because I’m hurt. And I kiss him for the probability of Nate watching somehow. Just as his tongue slips into my mouth, I exhale from the intrusion. His kiss is as calculated as his character. He gives enough without giving too much. He sucks on my bottom lip, licking me across the rim. His arms wrap around my waist, bringing me to my feet. Thick thighs separate my legs, stretching me wide as his body sinks against mine, shoving me up against the metal bars. He lifts me up by my thighs as I wrap my legs around him, all while his mouth continues to assault mine. My stomach flutters, my core pulsing. I want him. I have always somewhat wanted him, to an extent, and now that Nate has well and truly shattered any and all trust that I had in him, I’m feeling reckless. If you hurt someone enough, they acclimatize to pain, but just like a wound, if you don’t seal it, you’ll bleed out.

  Brantley pulls away, placing me back on my feet while grabbing my hand. “Now, you owe me twice for getting him mad, and princess, I will be collecting.” He continues to drag me out of my cell, unlocking the one beside Daemon and shoving me inside. I turn, just in time to see him shutting the door.

  “Brantley…” I want to apologize. I want to say so many things.

  He shakes his head. “Don’t, Tillie.”

  I know I owe him for saving me from Nate more than once or twice, but before I can address my gratitude, he leaves, and it’s not until I hear the heavy steel door slam closed that I slide down to my ass, drawing my legs up and turning my head to face Daemon.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  Daemon scrapes closer, grasping onto the bars that separate our cages. “I have seen much worse, Puella.”

  My heart squeezes in my chest from the use of my nickname. I thought I’d never hear it again. “I thought you were dead, Daemon. We all thought you were dead. We all mourned you.” Madison pops up inside my head and I wince. “Did everyone know but me?”

  Daemon shakes his head. He’s wearing tattered jeans and a shirt that looks like it’s seen better days. “No.”

  I massage my temples. “My god. Madison doesn’t know you’re still alive?” I screech, shaking my head.

  Selfishly, it does make me feel better knowing that my best friend didn’t betray me, but a bigger part of me is now terrified about what’s going to happen when she does find out. Her and Bishop are already on struggle street, I’d hate to know what’s going to happen when she finds out that he’s been hiding the biggest secret of all from her. Her fucking twin brother being alive. My eyes fly up to the little camera that’s sitting in the corner of my dark cell, the bright red dot signaling they’re watching. I flip the camera off.

  There’s a light chuckle from the corner and I freeze. “Who’s that?”

  Daemon clambers backward, and though I can’t see much in this lighting, I catch a glimpse of the scar on the back of his neck, reaching to the front. How the fuck is he still alive?

&n
bsp; I narrow my eyes in an attempt to get a better look at the silhouette hidden in the darkest corner of my cell. “I swear if that’s you again, Nate, I’ll cut your dick off this time.”

  Another chuckle, and then the figure steps forward, the slight light from the small window forcing itself through the bars on the window.

  He’s wearing a dark hoodie, shading most of his face but I can see the fine edge of his sharp jawline. His jeans are destroyed from wear, not for vanity. A heavy black belt hangs low around his waist. My eyes travel up both of his arms that are covered with long sleeves, but I can see tattoos sneaking out on his hands. I continue up his large chest, past the Nike emblem on his hoodie, up to his neck. His neck. I freeze, licking my lips. His neck is completely covered in dark ink, skulls and roses and some kind of scripture. Tanned skin lays underneath. I suck in a breath, coming to his lips. Perfect bow lips that curl in all the right places, his bottom one slightly plump. His jaw is cut sharp and perfectly symmetrical. Both points of his jaw are tipped at the same place on either side. Sunken cheekbones, and then I finally drag my eyes up to meet his.

  Holy. Shit.

  “Do I know you?” I whisper, all thoughts flying out of my head. He is beautiful. But he looks familiar. He looks. So. Familiar.

  He brings his hand up to his hoodie and flicks it off to rest around the back of his neck. “No.”

  “But…”

  His jaw ticks, his eyes flying to the body lying in the cell opposite me. I can’t stop staring at him, though. I probably should stop staring. Next to Nate, he would be the second hottest guy that I had ever seen. That used to be Bishop, but—I freeze, my wits now one-hundred percent working because I step forward, grabbing his chin with my hand, forcing his face back to look down at me.

  His emerald eyes search mine, not giving anything else away.

  I stop breathing, my grip tightening around his chin.

  The corner of his mouth kicks up in a dark smirk. The kind I know all too well, only this one is—frightening. “Yes, seems I have a relation that you know.”

  “Relation?” I gasp, shaking my head and finally letting the poor boy go.

  He cracks his neck. “Apparently I have a brother, and apparently we look like twins.”

  I lick my lip. “You do. Does Bishop know that you’re in here?”

  He grins, and his heavy eyes find the camera in the corner. “He does now…”

  He flicks his hand toward Khales. A very dead Khales. “I wanted a turn with her. Didn’t think you’d finish her in one go.”

  Ignoring his gesture toward her corpse, I keep my eyes on him, intrigue rushing through me. “What did she do to you, and what—how are you here?”

  He shakes his head. “Too much to get into right now, but she killed my mother. I was outnumbered. I didn’t know about Bishop until I got here, and she dangled him above my head like fresh bait, waiting for me to snap and take my first bite.”

  There’s so much I want to know, but I know this isn’t the time. So instead, I stare at him until I form the right words that I want to say.

  “So Khales brought you here?”

  He nods, taking a seat on the floor. I back up and slide down near the door, sitting opposite him but giving enough space between us. I don’t know him or his story, and the fact that I’m locked in a cell with him tugs on all the strings of my warning bells.

  He pulls his hoodie back up over his head. “My name’s Abel, I’m Bishop’s younger brother, same dad, different mom. I’m still in fucking high school, and I’m a cage fighter.”

  “Well,” I mutter. “Yeah. Definitely different upbringings.”

  Abel shrugs. “It helped my mom pay for shit growing up. I learned the hard way, not the privileged way.”

  A million thoughts are rushing through my head, but one, in particular, has hit a standstill and won’t move back into gear. “Why? Why did she bring you here?”

  He shrugs, drawing one leg up and resting his elbow on his knee. “Long story.” His eyes pierce through me, and I have to take a moment to calm myself. “I have heard about you.”

  “Really…” I quirk my eyebrow and draw my knees up close. I’m fighting to look toward Daemon, the process still not fully developed in my head right now. Something is going on, something that I don’t understand. “What was it that you heard?”

  Abel grins. “That you had a baby to a King, and that Katsia was your mom.”

  Nate

  The way some people can manipulate you with their personality and decide what you want to see in them is bullshit. Unfortunately, most of us are those people, and I’m a fucking expert.

  I slam the door closed, shaking my head and pacing back and forth in the room like a caged lion. Brantley keeps watching me from across the table, a smug smirk on his face.

  “What the fuck was that?” I ask, challenging him with my shoulders back.

  He doesn’t falter. “That was an angry Tillie, and you know what she gets like when she’s angry…”

  I clench my jaw, chuckling. “Oh, brother, you have no idea…”

  The door slams shut behind me and I turn, clenching the chair with my fists and watch as Bishop strolls in with a pale face. His eyes are blank. All emotion and color has drained from his face. I instantly go on alert, the thought of Madison flashing through my head. “What’s wrong?”

  Bishop drags his eyes up to meet mine. “It seems I have a fucking brother.”

  There’s a long pause for a few seconds as we all process his words.

  “What do you mean a brother?” Eli asks, leaning forward on the table. Cash is sitting beside him, flicking a toothpick around in his mouth.

  Bishop pulls at his hair and starts my pattern of pacing back and forth. It’s not like him. He’s usually calm and collected, but everything has had him on edge for a while now. I have thought up some theories on why he’s being like this, but truthfully, I’ve been so occupied with all that’s been going on in my life, I wouldn’t be able to pinpoint exactly when Bishop and Madison lost their shit. I could say it was around when Micaela was still alive…

  “Playtime, boys,” Hector grinned, cranking his head and biting down on a thick cigar that was hanging out of his mouth. “Before you get excited, keep in mind that I have granted this girl a clear path out of here with her life, and we don’t break our word.”

  “Why!” I snapped, just as we made our way into the elevator. “Why would you promise her that?”

  “Because if we need her to control that island, son, she can do that. They still think she’s a Stuprum. We need her alive to be able to do that. And there’s another issue that I’ve been handling behind the scenes. I’ve been told that she’s been attempting a takeover…” His voice died out, a deep melody thundering through my ears.

  All I want is my daughter. I don’t give a fuck about anything else right now. The soft melody blaring from the speakers was a poor attempt at calming the pheromones that were seeping off each of us. There were twelve of us all in total, with a couple standing guard downstairs and a sniper on the building over. You know, precautionary. We didn’t like to take someone out that way, but if one of The Kings were in danger and none of us were able to help, it was better to have an easy shot than no shot. Everyone is in position, and I can’t fucking wait to hold my daughter.

  Every level that the elevator climbs, my heart thunders in my chest in sync to hers. Will she remember this when she’s older? Fuck, I hoped not. The elevator dings and the doors separate. Hector’s head raises, coming to the front of himself as a smirk touches his mouth. We’re instantly inside of a penthouse apartment with marble floors and white counters. I take one step inside and I fucking swear I can smell her. The innocence of a baby mixed with death is a heady combination, something that I wouldn’t give a fuck about had it not been my daughter. Peyton walks out into the sitting room with six other men, slowing her footsteps. She cradles my daughter in her arms, rocking her softly.

  “Look, baby, there’s Dadd
y…”

  I snarl at her, about to pounce when Bishop’s hand comes to my arm. “Give me my fucking daughter.”

  Peyton rolls her eyes. “Always so dramatic, Nate. Tell me, how much did it hurt that Tillie kept her from you?”

  My jaw clenches, my fist balled at my side.

  Bishop brings his hand to my arm, stalling my movements. “Give me Micaela, Peyton, and we might just have our deal left on the table…”

  I chuckle, leaning back and licking my lips. Like fuck am I letting this bitch walk out after taking my kid.

  Her eyes come to me as if reading my thoughts. “For some reason, I don’t believe that I’ll walk out of here with my life.”

  I don’t give her the reassurance that she so desperately wants. I’m no fucking liar. I remove my leather jacket, and then my shirt, tucking it into the back of my jeans. I smirk at Peyton, and she gulps, glaring at Bishop as they make a silent exchange. Something I’ll touch on later. She shifts closer to Bishop, putting Micaela into his arms.

  As soon as she was safe, I flew forward, shoving Peyton out of my way, my hand coming straight to Carter’s throat. Peyton screamed in the background, but everyone else fell to silence. I squeezed roughly until I felt his throat cripple under my palm. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this…”

  “—Can we not be theatrical right now? There’s a baby in the room. I don’t know, but I feel like that would be wrong…” Eli muttered in the background.

  “B?” I murmured, my eyes never leaving Carter.

  I waited a few seconds until I knew Bishop would have turned Micaela away. It momentarily snapped me out of my rage, but not enough to not kill Carter. Just enough to realize I have my blade strapped to my belt. I snatch it out and in one movement, slice him across his neck until blood splatters all over my chest.

  Brantley chuckles behind me, his hand coming to my shoulder as Carter’s body drops with a loud thud to the floor.

  Hector tsks from behind me. “I can’t leave any of you unattended.”

  “I hate him,” I answer honestly.

  Turning in my spot, I catch Bishop grinning at me while covering Micaela’s eyes and ears. “For being a part of this, or for having a hard dick for Tillie?”