Unraveling Malcolm (Rebels and Nerds Book 2)

by R. Cayden

  Maddox, though, didn’t seem one bit thrown by me. It didn’t matter how many times I argued with him or tried to push back against his orders. He just kept the same calm tone in his voice and kept asking me questions. Weirdly, it made me want to please him just as much as it made me want to pick another fight.

  “If you’re so good at breaking into places,” I said, rising to my feet, “give me some tips.”

  “What? You want me to be your crime mentor or some shit?”

  “Why not?”

  He stretched his arm behind his shoulder again, pulling on his elbow until I heard the bones pop. “All right, Gunner, I got a lesson for you, but you’re not going to like it.”

  I wiped my hands off on the rag again, tossing it back in the crate. “I’m sure I won’t.”

  “You seem like you care about Malcolm and that you’re really eager to impress him. I get that. He’s cute as all hell, and he’s got a smile that lights up the room. But taking stupid risks and getting arrested isn’t going to help you one bit, and it’s not going to help him, either. So do yourself a favor. Act smart and stay out of trouble, and he might actually stick around for a minute.”

  I remembered how sexy Malcolm had looked, creeping down the path with me last night and how exciting it had felt to break into Maddox’s house together. There was no way I was giving up on memories like that one. “You’re right,” I said, “I don’t like the advice.”

  Maddox chuckled again. “You ready to warm up the chainsaw? Did you check the tension of the chain and add oil—”

  “I got it!” I said, cutting him off and still feeling flustered by his advice about Malcolm.

  He shrugged. “Warm it up, then.”

  I lifted the chainsaw and yanked the cord a few times, giving it all I had until the engine sputtered to life. A little cloud of gray smoke coughed out of it, and I held the machine to my side, resting the base of it on my hip.

  Maddox reached into the toolshed, then handed me a pair of safety goggles. “Can’t have you losing those pretty eyes,” he hollered above the noise.

  I reached out to take the goggles with my free hand, and when I did, the engine shook abruptly, and the machine chugged and clunked a few times before going dead. I tried to pull on the cord again, but it wouldn’t even budge.

  Maddox sighed. “You did add oil to the gasoline?”

  My gut clenched when I looked down at the crate. The small bottle of oil was still lying where I had left it, unopened.

  “Fuck,” I muttered. “I must have been distracted by those damn stories.”

  Maddox grabbed the goggles out of my hand, shaking his head. “I tried to tell you,” he said, pointing his finger straight at me and making me tremble in a way that felt weirdly good.

  “I know!” I said quickly. After a second of silence, I sighed. “And—I’m sorry.” Forgetting to put oil in the engine meant that the machine was totally broken. Most of the men I knew would lose their shit over something like that, but Maddox just kept pointing, showing way more patience than I expected.

  He sighed. “I hope you like canned beans because you and your boyfriend are going to be stuck here for a while.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Maddox

  When we got back to the house, Malcolm was just finishing tidying up. He was wiping down my cast iron pan when we walked through the door, nodding along a little to the music I had mistakenly left on. I paused in the doorway, strangely warmed to see him taking care of the place so lovingly.

  Gunner headed straight over to him, joining him by his side, and I poured myself another cup of coffee. The road was still wearing on me, although I couldn’t say I was particularly upset about the guys getting stuck there. Maybe it was just because I found them in such a compromising position, but I was struck by how sexy they were together. The whole time Gunner was squatting and working that chainsaw, I was studying the taut muscles of his thighs and thinking about how good he would look railing his friend.

  Not to mention they were better company than I’d had in a couple of months on the road. Even with Gunner acting arrogant to impress Malcolm, there was a kindness between them that I couldn’t help but notice. They might delay my peace and quiet for a day or two, but I’d have all the time in the world to myself again after that.

  I stepped out to the porch to make a phone call to the county and got the response I expected. It would be one to three days before they’d be able to send a guy up the mountain. Usually, they managed to come before a full day had passed, but I’d been left waiting through a weekend before. When I stepped back inside, Gunner was playing grab-ass with Malcolm, making his friend giggle and squirm.

  Cute shit.

  “I hope you’re comfortable on that hammock. It’s another day at least until they can clear the road. Maybe more.”

  “What!” Malcolm said suddenly, swatting Gunner’s hand away. His face dropped, the smile washing off. “We’re stuck here for how long?”

  “Through the weekend, maybe,” I said. “The county is a little unreliable.”

  “Oh god,” Malcolm said, taking off his glasses. “It’s already Friday afternoon. I thought I would be home last night!”

  I took a drink of coffee from my mug. “I’m not going to kick you out, don’t worry. And if you’re here much longer, I’ll figure out something more comfortable than the hammock. But don’t think you’re going to be running all over the place and doing whatever the hell you please.” I pointed at Gunner for a second, giving him my eye so he knew I meant it. When Malcolm squirmed in response, I almost lost my focus and smiled.

  “What?” Gunner said. “You got rules for us or something? Because there are plenty of other houses up this mountain where we can chill for a couple of days.”

  “Yeah, and I’m the only one with a thick enough skull that I don’t put an alarm on my place. You want to risk going to the jail instead of Seattle, go right ahead. But I think you’re smarter than that.”

  “What are the rules?” Malcolm asked, sliding a little closer to Gunner.

  I shrugged. “Just obvious things. Don’t touch my shit, don’t drink my booze, don’t bother me if I don’t want to be bothered—”

  “How are we supposed to know if you want to be bothered?” Gunner asked, interrupting.

  “Just assume I never want to be bothered. And especially keep your hands off of my welding equipment. It’s dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “Did you say earlier that you’re out of fresh food?” Malcolm asked.

  “I did, but there’s plenty of stuff in the pantry. We’ll just have to get creative with dry food and old cans of beans.”

  “More importantly,” Gunner said, “did you just say you have welding equipment?”

  I set my mug down on the table, then grabbed my sunglasses, using them to push back my hair. After all that time on the road, I was in dire need of a haircut. “I did. Do you two want to see the property?”

  “I’d love to,” Malcolm answered, tugging down on his sweater a little. “It looks really beautiful out there.”

  “It is. Come on, I’ll tell you about the highlights.”

  They followed behind as I walked them through the house first, pointing out practical things like the wifi password and the towel closet. Malcolm made an occasional comment about how nice some of the woodworking was, and Gunner pointed out my stereo system, but for the most part they just followed while I talked.

  I loved showing off my house, although I rarely had the chance to do so. The building had all of the flares and fancy details that my parents installed when they owned the place, but I cared more about what I had done to change it. It had taken a lot of work and a lot of time to make the place my own, but with every hour I spent landscaping and every afternoon I spent welding, I had made the house a little more mine and a little less like the legacy of my parents.

  “Oh wow!” Malcolm said. “Look at that garden!”

  The yard stretched out behin
d the back of the house, tumbling down the hill a bit before the forest overtook it. My workshop was at the far end of the yard, and my metal sculptures were stuck in random places against the hillside, but the garden was at the center of it all. Winding rows of plants, elevated beds, and a small hoop house clustered together, placed to receive optimal light during the cloudy Washington seasons.

  I squatted down, examining the overgrown and untended crops. The beets were going strong, with their greens bolting and shooting into the air, as were the hardier vegetables like turnips and radishes. For the most part, though, the garden was an overgrown jungle, with weeds battling out most of the seasonal plants.

  I tugged a few weeds from the ground, tossing them aside. “It’s a pretty big mess right now. I’m afraid no one has touched this thing since I left in August. But it shouldn’t take too much work to get it back in order. I’ll get the hoop house going soon enough and keep some greens growing through the winter.”

  Malcolm squatted beside me, poking at the dirt. “I love my apartment, but I really miss having a garden I can tend to. I used to keep a plot in a community garden down the road, but the spaces fill up so fast. I didn’t get a spot in the lottery this year.”

  When he tugged a few weeds out and tossed them aside without really thinking, I realized he must be a true gardener. With his hands in the dirt, a little of his prim behavior melted away. His muscles relaxed, and I saw a smile on his face that was so different than the anxious worry I was used to.

  I pulled a couple of turnips out, shaking dirt from them. The greens were so bolted that they would be too bitter to use, but the roots themselves looked possibly usable, even if they were knotted and tough.

  “Maybe we’ll have some fresh food after all. You all like turnips?”

  “Um, no,” Gunner laughed, standing behind us with his arms crossed. “Do you?”

  Malcolm grinned back at his friend. “Not really. But it’s probably better than cans of beans.”

  “Gunner mentioned that you’re looking for a new apartment,” I said to Malcolm, rising back to my feet. “Are you hoping to find a place with garden access?”

  Malcolm stood up beside me, then crossed to join Gunner, apparently taking some comfort by being close to his date. “It’s not really like that, although yeah, I would love a place with a garden. But if I had a choice, I’d be staying in my old apartment. It’s just my landlords that are forcing me to leave.”

  “They’re total scum,” Gunner added. “They’re trying to drive him out.”

  “Yeah, it’s a real mess,” Malcolm sighed. “They’ve driving my rent through the roof.” He wiped the dirt off his hands. “Never rent from Richter Properties if you can help it.”

  My muscles tensed at the mention of my family name, and I had to turn back to the garden to hide the expression on my face. My father and his family had their fingers in just about every industry you could imagine, and I was very familiar with the tactics they used to exploit their tenants. Hell, seeing my uncle force a few poorer families from their homes when I was in high school helped me understand that the family business wasn’t as respectable and honorable as they liked to pretend.

  My Uncle Elmar was low on the family pecking order, and I knew my father considered him an embarrassment, nearly as bad as me. While the leaders of the family business were left to bribe politicians and arrange sketchy contracts with corrupt union leaders, Uncle Elmar had been regulated to much cruder industries. Richter Properties was the dirty jewel in his tarnished crown. I was just glad he hadn’t advanced to harassing Malcolm at work or trying to blackmail him to move.

  “Richter Properties, huh?” I said, turning back to face them. “And you’ve decided to move rather than fight it?”

  Malcolm shrugged. “It’s not like it’s a fight I can win.”

  I thought about unloading my guts right then and telling them the whole sordid family story I’d been carrying around for years. If there was one thing I’d learned from my criminal days, though, it was to keep my mouth shut. Discretion was key, especially when I had nothing more to offer those two guys than some scandalous stories from Uncle Elmar’s past.

  It did remind me of Declan’s offer, though. I wasn’t about to go risking the safe, peaceful life I had made, but knowing my family was screwing with Malcolm made the idea of sticking it to them again much more enticing.

  “Are these all your sculptures?” Gunner asked, pointing to some of the metal hulks on the hillside.

  “Sure are,” I said, grateful to change the conversation for now. “I took up welding when I moved out here. I’m not much of an artist, but it passes the time, and there’s nothing quite like the thrill of shaping metal and bending it to your will. Not to mention completing the occasional welding project for cash keeps a little extra money in my pocket.”

  “That one’s cool,” Gunner said, gesturing to one of my favorites. Made from old pieces of steel I had dragged home from the dump, the piece looked kind of like a gigantic flower that had been set on fire, with sharp edges sticking in every direction. Tucked into the side of the hill, time had corroded and rusted the metal, and the burnt red color contrasted nicely with the greens of the grasses and shrubs.

  “I’m not surprised you think so,” I said. “As a guy who works demolition, you probably appreciate old salvaged material more than most people.”

  Gunner nodded. “Some of the stuff people throw away shocks me. It’s like they’re happy to just trash an entire building rather than take the time to salvage the good parts.”

  “What about you, Malcolm?” I asked. “You got any favorites?”

  He gestured to a smaller sculpture, almost hidden behind the overgrown rows of the garden. “What’s that one?”

  I smiled to myself, then walked through the weeds to reach it, pulling some aside to clear the view. “This is a fairly new one,” I said. “It’s a pooch—my old buddy Freddie. I made it the summer he passed.”

  Malcolm peered over the garden, glancing at it. “Freddie looks happy.”

  I shrugged, standing back up and throwing aside the weeds I’d picked. “He liked the garden, and I guess I wasn’t quite ready to stop seeing him out here.”

  Malcolm blinked at me from behind his glasses, clearly appreciating the image. “That’s nice,” he said.

  “Sure,” I replied, ready to move on from the topic. I glanced up at the sky, noticing how the sun was inching across it. “I’m about ready to head back inside. I’ve got a giant sack of laundry to get to and some bills that should get paid sooner than later. Are you two going to be all set if I leave you alone back here?”

  “Hey,” Gunner objected. “What about the workshop? I thought you were going to show us the welding equipment.”

  “You manage to go the rest of the day without pissing me off, maybe I will,” I replied.

  Gunner and Malcolm exchanged a glance, and Malcolm shrugged. “We’ll be fine. Do you mind if I poke around in your garden a little, though?”

  “You want to deal with that weedy mess, go right ahead.”

  I gave them another look up and down, struck all over again by how damn sexy they looked next to each other. If I were ten or fifteen years younger, I’d probably be falling for each of them, just the same as they were falling for each other.

  I grunted quietly to myself, nodding. “Good. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay? I’ll be inside if you need me.”

  Turning on my heel, I headed back to the house. I had an afternoon worth of chores to catch up on, but I couldn’t say it was bothering me to have the two of them lounging out in the garden.

  If I were being honest with myself, I might even admit that I liked it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Malcolm

  I knelt in the garden, yanking out weed after weed and throwing them to the grass behind me. Gunner stood off to the side, smoking a cigarette and eyeing me while I worked.

  Back when I was growing up, gardening in my family’s backyards was one
of the only real escapes I was allowed. Sure, I had to keep everything neat and tidy, and I always conformed to my mother’s plan for the season. But gardening was inherently dirty in a way I appreciated, and the long hours I spent digging around in the weeds gave me some relief from the sterile, strict environment inside their house.

  Most of Maddox’s plants were overgrown or ruined from neglect, and I knew I could spend a solid week out there without getting things back in order. Having something to do with my hands, however, felt a lot nicer than sitting around and worrying about when I’d make it back to Seattle. So long as I was back by Sunday, I could still make my obligatory family dinner and show up at work the next morning.

  Gunner finished his cigarette. Unlike before, he didn’t throw the butt to the ground and forget about it. Instead, he stubbed it out carefully, shoving the burnt end in his pocket afterward. He crossed over to join me, plopping down on the grass.

  “Guess what?” he said, dropping his voice a little.

  I turned over my shoulder, smiling to see that devilish look back in his eyes. Part of me was scared of what he would say next. Guess what? I figured out how to break into the workshop, so let’s burn some metal. Guess what? We can probably make off with Maddox’s motorcycle when we leave here. Guess what? I’m going to fuck you senseless in the woods now.

  Okay, maybe there were some things I wanted him to say.

  “What?” I asked, tossing a knotty, overgrown beet to the ground.

  “Maddox is gay.”

  I pulled my hands from the dirt and spun to face him properly. There was a chill in the air, but with the sun out again, the puddles from the rain were already drying up. “Wait, he’s gay? Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. He told me about his ex-boyfriend when we were working on the chainsaw.”

  “Well, I guess that makes sense,” I said. “He didn’t really seem thrown off by the fact that we were… you know… when he found us.”