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

by Amo Jones

  “I’m tired.”

  Nate’s shoes come into view. Nike Air Force Ones as white as his perfect teeth. He drops down, his fingers coming to my chin, tilting my face up to his.

  “We only figured it out a couple weeks ago.”

  I snatch the bottle from him, bringing the rim to my mouth. “What does this mean?”

  Nate sits on the floor opposite me and I see out of the corner of my eye as everyone scatters to relax. The music is still blaring outside.

  “It means Daemon knew about her, probably all along.”

  “But why did he want me to find it? How would that have helped me?”

  Nate chuckles. “He would have wanted you to know that you running Perdita wasn’t your only option, that there was someone else who shares that responsibility with you.”

  I wince. Daemon. Sweet, beautifully haunted Daemon. Always there to look out and watch out for me, even from his grave.

  “Which would never fucking happen, just to be clear,” Brantley growls.

  I bring my eyes up to his. “How long have you known?”

  Brantley licks his lip, his eyes never moving from mine. “All her life. Dad bought her when she was two years old. She’s lived with us since. I’m guessing your imagination can fill in the rest, what with everyone’s knowledge of Lucian Vitiosis.”

  I pale. “Brantley… what did you do to that poor girl…”

  He rolls his eyes. “She’s not my fucking slave or anything. She gets the best of fucking everything. She couldn’t go to school, so we hired tutors. Ones that I approved of. Her life before we took her, though, Tillie, it wasn’t fucking good. And when Dad was alive, it wasn’t much better, until I put a stop to it when she was thirteen.”

  My eyes glass over. “She looks so young and…pure.”

  Brantley’s eyes drift over my head as he loses focus. “Yeah. I know. She’s younger than you, though. Not by much.”

  “Her name is Saint?” I ask, tilting my head.

  “Yeah. I named her.”

  I study Brantley’s posture, how he positions himself in a defensive stance while we speak about her. Yeah, I wouldn’t breathe near this girl without his permission. At all. It’s frightening while being beautiful at the same time. To witness the scariest man I have ever met, ever known, with such a dark past and soul, soften toward a girl who is the opposite of him, is some sort of witchcraft.

  “Okay. We don’t need to talk about her anymore, but I do want to meet her…”

  Brantley relaxes. “Yeah. Well, since everyone knows about her, and Nate is owned, I have no problem bringing her around.”

  “Aye!” Nate laughs, his head tilting back. “What, me? Little old me? You didn’t want to bring her around because of me?”

  Brantley rolls his eyes. “Don’t fuckin’ play dumb, Malum. Chicks fall to your cock. Though I knew she wouldn’t, I couldn’t risk killing you just in case you, or she, did.”

  “Mmm!” I whine, swiping my mouth after I take a sip of alcohol. “So Valentina staked her claim on you, since you’re owned now?”

  The room falls silent, all that’s filling the space is the music from outside. When Nate doesn’t answer me, I bring my eyes to his. My stomach flips at the way he’s looking at me.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  I don’t want to admit that I want to know what happened when he and Bishop stayed behind, because that would show I care.

  He props one knee up and rests his elbow on it, leaning his head back against the wall. He smirks. “You think I fucked Valentina when I stayed behind in Perdita…”

  “—Okay,” I hear Eli mutter from somewhere in the room. “I’m going to get pussy. Mommy and Daddy are fighting again.”

  “I don’t even care,” I answer with a level voice.

  Nate reaches out and grabs my hand, tugging me forward. I end up on my knees in front of him as he looks up at me from sitting on the ground. His hand drifts up my cardigan and then he yanks me down so I’m face-to-face with him.

  “Liar.”

  I search his eyes. “Does it matter?”

  He chuckles. “Not fucking really.”

  I shove at his chest, pushing off him. “I don’t even know why I bothered.” He doesn’t let me move so I shove harder until I’m back on my feet. I find Bishop. “You need to get in contact with Madison.” Then I look at Brantley. “Thank you, Bran Bran. It’s been fun.”

  Brantley’s eyes shift to Nate desperately.

  “I feel so much fucking better now that everything is deciphered. Only took a few murders, some hot sex, and losing my best friend, daughter, the man I fucking love, but whatever. Sayonara, bitches.” I throw up deuces and turn, bearing straight for the front door. I need to run. One-thousand miles and clear my head.

  “There’s one little issue with your big dramatic exit, baby…” Nate murmur-slurs from behind me. Khalid’s “OTW” thuds through the speakers.

  I freeze, my fingers on the door handle. Slowly, I turn back around to face him, finding him a few steps in front of me.

  “And what’s that?” I ask, tilting my head.

  “Just before you walked your little ass up in here, I made a promise to myself.”

  “Oh, you did, huh?” I humor him. “What was that promise?”

  I’m tired and drained. I just want to finally mourn losing him. Losing him. I’ve never had to do it because we’ve always lingered together.

  “Yeah.” He smirks, taking a tentative step.

  I step back.

  He counters that by coming further.

  My back slams against the door.

  His hands fly up to either side of my head, his head dipping down to mine. He runs his nose tip over mine. “I promised myself that I’d let you go—until you walked your ass back into a house that I’m in, then I’m not letting you go. Ever.”

  I roll my eyes, shoving his hard chest, but he doesn’t move. “Stop being ridiculous. I’m tired of the games.”

  His eyes narrow, then drop to my lips. “Not a game, baby. Gamechanger.” He comes closer, his body pressing against mine and leans down, his lips floating across my ear. “I’ll lock you in my room if I have to. You’re not leaving me this time, or ever again.”

  I swallow. “I can’t do this, Nate.” I can feel all the emotions and feelings I have for him roaring to the surface. “I can’t continue to love someone who isn’t manufactured to love back. I can’t fucking compete with other girls when it comes to your affection, and I can’t fucking handle not having all of you!”

  He slams me up against the door, his hands coming to my thighs. He lifts me off the floor and out of instinct, I wrap my legs around his lean waist. One hand rests on the front of my throat as his thumb caresses my collarbone. His other is wrapped around my lower back.

  “One, you’ve never competed with any fucking girl. It’s always been you and it makes me fucking testy hearing you say shit like that so I would advise that be the last time those words spill out from those lips, or I’ll feel obliged to shove something else between them. Two, there is one person on this earth who gets all of me, Tillie. One fucking girl. And it’s not the dispensable hos that have bounced on my dick. It’s the one that fucking stole my heart, and lastly.” He smirks, his lips brushing softly against mine. “I must have malfunctioned along the way somewhere, because I fucking love you.”

  I search his eyes when the first tear slips from the corner of mine. My heart feels like it’s beating to a different tune now.

  “What?”

  He kisses me softly, his lips brushing against mine. I open my mouth to let him in further as his tongue touches mine. My stomach flips and my thighs clench. He loves me.

  “Wait!” I stop, pushing at his chest. “You’re drunk!”

  He rolls his eyes.

  The Kings in the background groan out loud. “For fuck’s sake, Stuprum!” one of them curses.

  Nate grins. “I’m not that drunk. Stop being difficult.”

&nb
sp; I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck and bring my nose tip to his. “I love you, too, but I have one condition for us going forward. You know, consider it a new trend, if you will. Our girl version of calling red.”

  Nate’s eyes narrow, then he starts pressing small kisses over mine. “Anything.”

  Between kisses, I smirk. “We’re going to visit the same tattoo artist that Madison and Bishop visited, and I’m claiming what’s mine.”

  Nate bursts out laughing, his head tilting back as he lowers me to the ground. He takes my hand and kisses the front.

  “Sure thing, baby. So where are you stamping your name?”

  “That is not a thing,” Brantley announces, flicking his finger between us.

  “It actually is…” I raise my eyebrows in challenge.

  “Says fucking who?” He glares at me.

  “Says fucking me, and since I am royalty, what I say goes. Also, Madison agreed.”

  Brantley glares at Nate. “Tell her that it’s not a thing.”

  Nate begins carrying me upstairs. “Oh, it’s a thing, and tell everyone to get the fuck out of my house.”

  Tillie

  Nate’s bedroom bleeds opulence, the only kind that you could expect from him. I roll off his California king bed, dragging the sheet with me while leaving him completely naked behind.

  I smirk, raking my hair out of my face as I make my way to the glass wall that is on the other side of his room. I find it interesting that they’ve all moved to NYC instead of staying in The Hamptons. Maybe it’s a King thing. I run my fingertips over the walls. Dark grey with white trimmings. They almost look angry as they reach high up to the ceilings. The bathtub is behind a free-standing wall, along with a large shower head that stretches into a long rectangle. There are two walk-in wardrobes, one filled with all his clothes, and—I flick the light off, ducking into the other, where it’s filled with some of my clothes.

  “Shit that you left at Mom’s.”

  “Oh,” I whisper, not bothering to turn around to face him. “You just knew that I would take you back, huh?”

  He chuckles, and I look over my shoulder to watch as he moves fluidly around the room, in all his naked glory. Muscles twitch with every movement and tattoos sprawl out everywhere with it. “Yeah, I did.” He comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my torso while hugging me into his chest. He bites on my neck roughly. “You’re not a woman who can be owned. I knew that a long time ago. You may not belong to me, but you belong with me. And there ain’t shit you can do about it.”

  I laugh, tilting my head as he drags his teeth over my shoulder. My eyes close as I fight the urge to moan.

  He slaps my ass, pulling me out of my sex-induced haze. “I want to show you something before we leave.”

  “Before we leave?” I ask, tilting my head and watching as he turns the shower on. Steam instantly fills the room.

  “Yeah,” he smirks. “I promised you a fucking tattoo.”

  “And you really do want to?” I ask, an eyebrow cocked.

  He glares at me. “Baby, I don’t give a fuck. I would put your name across my head if I wanted to.”

  My eyes drop down his body, taking every single bit in. I grin when I get to the K I N G that sits over his pelvis. “I know just the thing.”

  “Yeah,” he chuckles, slipping into the shower. “Bet you fucking do.”

  We wash up, in between the sex, and get changed in record time. I end up throwing on something of mine that he had brought here. Casual Vans, skinny jeans, and a leather jacket.

  We’re walking downstairs when he takes my hand and gestures down the elongated hallway. “When I built this house,” he starts talking while leading me down. The walls drip in blood, the red a darker take in the very eccentric home. “I mean, when I started on the designs, it was when I first found out I had a daughter. I designed her room first and then built around it. That’s why if you haven’t noticed—”

  “—the house changes in themes. Based on your mood,” I finish for him, absently running my hand over the walls as we walk.

  His fingers twitch in mine. “Exactly.”

  “What did you do with Micaela’s room when she passed?”

  He stops outside of a door and turns to face me. “If this is too much for you, I can change it. You can decide what to do with it. But for me, I figured this was what I wanted to do for now. A place we can go to feel her again when it starts to get numb.”

  Nate opens the door and I pause. The walls are pure white with Victorian style window panes that overlook the backyard of the house. There’s a large purple rug in the middle of the floor and the walls are filled with large bookshelves, where all sorts of items sit inside little cubes.

  “It’s perfect…” I whisper, stepping farther into the room. “I love it.” I turn around, flinging my arms around his neck and pulling him into me further. “Let’s get that tattoo.”

  Tillie

  Two weeks later

  “This is weird,” Bailey murmurs, taking a seat beside me. It’s Halloween, and the party in the cemetery is in full swing. I think it’s the first time since we’ve all been back that I feel relaxed. After Nate’s display of his love for me, we spent the following weeks deciding what to do about our two homes. Obviously, he trumped me on Micaela’s room and the thought he put into his house, so we’ve decided to sit on mine. I refuse to sell it, it’s too perfect. Maybe we could eventually rent it out to someone we know.

  “I know.” I shake my head, rubbing the palms of my hands down my legs. “I really miss Madison,” I add when my eyes drift around everyone that’s here.

  Bailey hands me a glass of alcohol. “I hope I can meet her one day.”

  I stare at the glass.

  “Here.” She pushes the glass into my hands. I take it, placing the base onto my knees. The setup looks great. They’ve hung orange and yellow Jack-o’-lantern lights over the gravestones, and a DJ booth is set up near a large tomb.

  “You’ll meet her. I plan to drag her home soon.”

  Bailey laughs, her eyes flying around the place.

  “Looking for Abel?” I tease, one quirked eyebrow.

  Her face pales. “No. He hates me, and I hate him.”

  “Hate,” I chuckle. “So much more complicated than its four letters.”

  Nate’s arms snake around my neck from behind, and I tilt my head back to look up at him.

  “Hey,” I whisper, kissing his arm. “Are you having a good time?”

  He runs his lips over my forehead. “I could be having a better time, but Hector is inside the house and wants to have a chat.”

  I groan, placing my glass onto the ground.

  Brantley snickers. “Hector is scary as shit.”

  I laugh, turning around and lifting Nate’s shirt, displaying his tattoo. “About as scary as this?”

  Bailey chokes on her drink. “Holy shit. You actually put your name on him!”

  I did. Above Nate’s “King” tattoo over his pelvis, I signed Tillie fucking Stuprum’s with a kiss. My lips and all. The artist had me kiss where I wanted it with red lipstick and then filled it all in. It’s my favorite.

  “Yes, I did, because he’s my fucking King.”

  Nate grins, pulling me to stand up. “Damn straight.”

  “Okay. You guys are way too cute now. You need to go and sort Hector out.”

  I wave her off and follow Nate down the dark pathway. When we’re halfway there, Nate picks me up by the backs of my thighs and flings me over his shoulder, slapping my ass.

  “Nate!” I yell, tapping his back. “My stomach hurts!”

  He laughs, slapping my ass again. “That’s not all that’s going to be hurting.”

  I bite down on the inside of my cheek as he carries me the rest of the way back to Brantley’s house. Once we’re inside, he gently sets me back to my feet and I shove him.

  “Asshole. Stop manhandling me.”

  I slowly turn around to find the rest of The Kings, Hecto
r, Scarlett, Elena and Joseph in the large sitting room.

  “Stuprum,” Hector announces, smiling at me.

  I can’t smile back.

  He did plan to take my daughter. “Why?” I ask, tilting my head. “I know you didn’t do it, but why did you plan to take her?”

  He gestures to the sofa closest to his. I slowly sink into it, wrapping my hoodie around myself. “I know I don’t have to explain to you how dangerous this world can be.”

  “Correct,” I say, waiting for him to continue.

  “The young man who raped Madison was a Lost Boy, Tillie. We’ve had issues happening on Perdita since before you came back. The problems that lie within that soil actually stem back to when your mother ran it into the ground. Your grandmother was nothing like your mother. She ruled Perdita strong, but even her strength had softness. Something I hadn’t witnessed again, until you.”

  “—So you plan to steal my daughter?”

  “—No,” he interrupts. “That was not why.”

  “Then why!” I demand. “I need to know why.”

  Hector watches me carefully. “The Lost Boy who raped Madison was working with Peyton. Peyton had been working with people, not a lot, very few, to attempt to bring The Kings down. We’re still not sure exactly what his intentions were by raping her, but we’re hoping to talk to her at some point and gather all the information we need. We get enemies every decade or so, and then we kill them all until the next lot try.” He sighs. “I ordered Khales to do it, because I knew that she would. I didn’t know that she would take Peyton with her.”

  I won’t cry again. I can’t. “So why were you trying to take her?” I reach for my bracelet, fiddling with the strings.

  “To show that you didn’t have a weakness. Erase Micaela out of the picture—temporarily—and that leaves the hate tribe with nothing else to use, and lights a fire inside of you. I needed you to be focused and on fire to rule Perdita and help bring these fools down.” He clears his throat, and I notice the fine wrinkles around his face. “Micaela was precious to our world. You have to believe that. She was a Stuprum. I would, and anyone in this world would do anything to protect one.”