Obsessive Addiction: Those Malcolm Boys Book 1

by Donn, KL

  Obsessive Addiction

  Those Malcolm Boys Book 1

  KL Donn

  Contents

  Blurb

  Note From The Author

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by KL Donn

  Copyright © 2018 by KL Donn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by - KA Matthews

  Cover Design by – Dark Water Covers

  Formatting by - Sensual Graphic Designs

  Created with Vellum

  Blurb

  Have you ever heard the sound of your life ending?

  A cell door slamming shut is the best way to describe it.

  I killed a man. A bad man.

  One who deserved far more than what I gave him.

  He looked at her when she was mine.

  He touched her when she was mine.

  He broke her when she was mine.

  I’m getting out on a technicality.

  Now, I’ll get to make her mine.

  She’ll cry my name each night instead of his.

  She’ll feel my pleasure instead of his pain.

  I am Crux Malcolm

  and it’s my turn to get what’s coming to me…

  Farren Hallewell is my addiction, and I’m obsessed.

  Note From The Author

  Obsessive Addiction is a very personal book to me. Largely based off of a true story of someone quite close to me, I warn you now…

  Their love story is harsh, consuming, obsessive.

  Read with caution.

  If ever you find yourself or someone you know in an abusive situation, please never be afraid to ask for help. Reach out, make your voice heard.

  You’re not alone.

  You’re worth everything.

  YOU. ARE. SOMEONE.

  XOXO

  KL Donn

  Dedication

  For every girl, boy, woman, or man, looking for a light at the end of your tunnel…

  Stay strong

  Have hope

  Fly free.

  Prologue

  * BREAKING NEWS * BREAKING NEWS * BREAKING NEWS *

  “Just in, bad boy billionaire heir Crux Malcolm has been arrested and charged with first-degree murder for the death of Jeffrey Warner.

  Mr. Malcolm is the youngest son to hotel tycoon Cashton Malcolm. In January of 2013, Malcolm senior passed of a heart attack, shocking the world with his death. The Malcolm boys chose to sell the empire their father built in favor of searching out their own fortune.

  The eldest son, Crew Malcolm, opened a successful construction company that has spurred on the hiring of the best restoration specialists in the world. Concentrating on the rejuvenation of old stone homes across the world.

  Cross Malcolm had a hard start when he took to the farm life but has since proven his worth in creating some of the best-bred bulls in the country. On average, he sells at market over $100,000.00 a steer.

  Crux has yet to find his niche in the world, and I suppose now we know. Crux Malcolm, billionaire, bad boy, murderer.

  A shame for the dynasty their father created.

  Channel 44 news, I’m Lindy Swartz.”

  Chapter One

  CRUX

  “Crux Malcolm, it is with our sincerest apologies that you are free and clear in regards to all previous charges and convictions in this case.” The bang of the judge’s gavel releases the smirk I’ve been holding back.

  They had me.

  Lock, stock, and smoking fucking barrel.

  But he fucked up.

  The prosecutor took a bribe three years ago and knowingly presented planted evidence. A single fingerprint that never existed. Not there. Not at that scene. They only found out about the bribe after he was caught taking another one from a murder case he was trying. I got lucky.

  Warner got what was coming to him. Neither of us knew it then, but from the first time he touched her, he was dead.

  Farren Hallewell.

  Sweet girl next door.

  Virtuous. Untouched.

  Mine.

  *****

  He thought he had a right; he was wrong. Before he took his last breath, I made sure he knew. I swore vengeance that day, and no matter how desperate his pleas for mercy were, I gave none.

  The only regret I have is missing these years with her. Not being here to protect her. No one knew why I did what I did. They thought I was the hot-headed bad boy child of the Malcolm dynasty. I’m not. I wasn’t then either.

  I was meticulous, smart. I plotted and planned.

  I underestimated the lengths his brother Scott would go through for justice.

  I know now. I may have a temper, but I can put it in a stranglehold, as long as I have her with me. Always with me.

  I’ve watched Farren for years. She’s one of the shiest people I’ve never formally met in my life.

  When I was eighteen and she was ten or eleven, she and her mother moved into Jeffrey Warner’s home. It didn’t take long to recognize that Farren’s mother, Leslie, didn’t give two shits about the girl. It took even less time for me to catch the way Jeffrey watched her.

  Being sent to college was the worst thing to ever happen to me. For the next four years, I glimpsed Farren sporadically and each time, I knew. I fucking knew she was hurting. I knew he was monopolizing her, but I had no idea how to confirm it or even to stop it.

  And then it happened.

  Late at night, when my house was quiet, and I was outside, I saw him…Jeffrey’s shadow in the glow of a small lamp in her room. He stalked her across the room, and when I saw his disgusting meaty paw touch her chest, I began to plot and plan.

  His death was coming by my hand.

  Realizing I had to act fast, I climbed the tree in her yard and threw a stone through the window. Being the little bitch that he was, he ran and never looked back. That was the last time Warner touched Farren.

  I found him drunk and stumbling down an alley three nights later. It was by pure accident that we were both there. In his drunken state, he didn’t recognize me, but when I told him why he was going to die, he laughed. Called Farren all kinds of nasty names that fueled my anger.

  I had already planned to leak the brake lines to his car, seeing him in the alley had been a bonus. Killing him with my bare hands didn’t affect me as much as I would have figured. I didn’t feel guilt or remorse. I felt elation. Knowing she was going to be free was all I cared about.

  It wasn’t until I found an article in the paper about Farren a year ago when she was helping an animal shelter, just before her seventeenth birthday, that I realized why I did what I had done.

  My breathing slowed.

  My pulse vibrated.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  Farren Hallewell had become an addiction I couldn’t quit.

  I’ve grown obsessed with her in what some would call an unhealthy way. I call it personal drive. The public should see it as a bonus. If I’m distracted by her, I’m not going to be a menace.

  Crew has his houses.

  Cr
oss has his bulls.

  I’ll have Farren.

  *

  Farren

  “Hey, Farren, wait up!” I spin around at the sound of my name. I don’t have friends here. I’ve never been able to break out of my shell and put myself out there to other people. And after everything that happened with Jeffrey, I only got worse. “Do you have to walk so fast?” Kalista, the editor of the newspaper, smiles at me, and I narrow my eyes.

  “What’s up?” My voice is so quiet that I sound mousey. It scares me when she’s nice to me, though. When Kalista is nice, bad things happen.

  “I need you to rewrite that interview with Andrew.” She hands me the paper I’d spent the weekend perfecting so that the quarterback didn’t sound like a complete idiot.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Talking to him had pushed me so far out of my comfort zone, I’d gotten sick afterwards. But that’s what she does. She had expected me to turn it down, but I was assigned a small section of my high school’s newspaper by Mr. Daws because he planned for me to go off to college and thought I should have something on my resumé for extracurriculars.

  “There’s nothing wrong with it, per se; it’s just boring. It doesn’t sound like him.” I bite my tongue, so I don’t say what I want to—that Andrew isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed—but I’d never speak that out loud. He’s self-conscious enough about his literacy and had asked me privately if I could articulate it better for him. If there’s one thing I understand, it’s the pain of our peers’ ridicule.

  “Right.” I take the paper and turn. As I’m about to walk away, she calls me again. “He’s waiting for you in the courtyard.” There’s something in her tone I don’t like, and I’m so frustrated that I ignore my instincts screaming I’m being set up.

  The final bell of the day has already rung, so there’s not a ton of students left hanging around, but when I make it out front and into the courtyard, just to the right of the school doors, I see half the football team and a few girls from the cheer squad. One of Kalista’s other extracurriculars.

  Great.

  “Ah, here she is, Warner!” My entire body freezes at that name.

  Jeffrey Warner had a brother, who had a son Ben, my age. We’d met twice when I was younger, but I barely remember him. Since this is only the first month back to my final year of high school, I never thought in a million years I’d see him.

  “Hey, fairy.” I cringe at the name. He never did like me and used the name in a derogatory way. Meant to insult me. I don’t acknowledge him, just side-step the entrance to the yard and head down the steps. My only intent is to get away from here as fast as I can.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” He grabs my arm, twisting me around as the sound of a car door slamming registers in my ears. Blood drains from my face when I see Ben. He looks so much like Jeffrey; I can feel my stomach churning.

  “Please, don’t do this,” I beg quietly.

  I’ve been vulnerable my whole life because of men who thought they could take what they wanted and when. Now, I’ll have witnesses to it.

  “Don’t do what?” He leans forward, trapping me with his arms. His knee presses into my thigh, and I know I’ll have a bruise there later. I can feel his hot breath against my neck, and I fight to free myself. “Do this?” he asks just before he licks up the side of my neck and that’s when it happens.

  Something I never thought would.

  Someone I never thought could.

  Ben is pulled from me and on the ground before I can process anything. Wide shoulders plastered in leather cover my view. Snarling emits from the man in front of me, and I don’t know what to do. Terror races through me, and my fight or flight instincts kick in. Before I can make a move, though, a gentle hand touches my wrist, and the wall of muscle blocking my view is turning slowly.

  All I see, at first, is anger. Fuming rage, ready to kill. When the fog lifts, I see it. I see him.

  Crux Malcolm.

  Savior, knight, killer.

  I burst into tears of shame before him, and all I want to do is run, but I’m trapped in his cold, black stare as his gaze travels down my body. I see his mouth moving, but I don’t hear anything.

  Because he knows.

  He saw.

  And he conquered.

  Crux Malcolm saved my life. I owe him everything.

  “You owe me nothing,” he snaps in his gravelly voice. When I heard him talk the first time all those years ago, I knew I could listen to him for days. He soothes me in ways I’ve never known.

  “I owe you everything.” I breathe. I hadn’t realized I’d spoken out loud before.

  He smirks and shakes his head but says nothing else as he raises a hand to cup my cheek. His tattoos run from his knuckles to his neck and what I’m guessing is everywhere in between. They would frighten most, but to me, I see a story yearning to be told.

  “Did he touch you?” Crux is viciously quiet. I point to my neck and immediately regret it. He is not a man to be messed with. From the tabloid stories to his crimes, everyone knows that. Whatever is happening here, now, Ben is going to regret it.

  Leaning forward, Crux buries his face in my neck and lets his tongue travel in the same fashion as Ben had. Only I don’t feel sick over his touch. I feel a quiver wrestle through me, and something tightens in my core.

  “He’ll pay for that,” he vows as he spins around. Ben’s friends are helping him off the ground.

  “Murderer.” Ben spits on the ground like Crux is nothing. I read in the papers that his family was never able to sue the Malcolm’s for all they were worth because they all had their individual fortunes. Everything had been split when their father passed away, and each of the Malcolm boys would forfeit their inheritance if they were to be arrested and charged with a crime and found guilty. There was nothing for the Warner family to take.

  I feel trapped in a vortex of fear and safety as Crux takes a menacing step forward, forcing Ben and his friends to back up. Because they know, even though there’s more of them, that Crux is far more dangerous than they’re prepared for.

  “I’ve killed for her once already; do you think I won’t do so again?” Their eyes widen at his threat. “Touch her, ever, and they’ll never find your body.”

  Chapter Two

  crux

  She’s silent beside me as I drive her away from the school. I’d hoped to take her to dinner, but Farren insisted she needed to get home, and no amount of convincing would sway her decision. If it weren’t for the way I felt her quiver in my arms when my tongue touched her neck, I’d think I scared her.

  I hadn’t meant to make my presence known yet. I only wanted to watch her. But when I saw her come out of the school, and then Ben Warner turned around, I knew shit was about to go down.

  “You wanna tell me why you were going to him?” I look over at her, and she still has the same blank look on her pretty face. Freckles line her jaw on the left side, and I want so badly to kiss every single one.

  “When did you get out?” she asks instead of answering me.

  “About four hours ago.” I shrug when her eyes widen.

  “And you what? Came straight for me?” She sounds equal parts horrified and amazed.

  Looking between the road in front of us and her, I ask, “That a problem?”

  Farren takes a moment to think before she speaks. “Surely, you had better things to do than check on the victim of your victim.”

  There’s a touch of shame in her voice, and my anger spikes again. I never admitted guilt to my crimes; it’s why I was set free. They couldn’t prove shit without the planted evidence. Hearing her talk about him, about being a victim, reminds me of all the things I fought for. All the reasons I committed murder to begin with.

  “Not a single thing I can think of.” I know she registers the rage in my tone. I can’t mask it. She should be angry, too. She should hate me, be afraid of me. But she’s not. “Why aren’t you scared of me?”

  “Scared of you?” She laughs without humo
r. “You took down the man who spent years abusing me.” Her voice catches, and I look over, only to be greeted with tears in her eyes. “I just wish you’d taken the demons as well.” Me, too.

  I don’t have much else to say after that. When I pull up in front of Farren’s house, I let her run inside, knowing she needs to adjust to the fact that I’m back. She’s so flustered, she likely doesn’t notice that I pull into the driveway next door.

  I can see my brothers’ cars are both here, and that shocks me a bit. They’ve distanced themselves from me over the years, and while at first, I had been pissed, I understood. They both have prominent businesses to run and having a criminal—a killer—for a brother wouldn’t help with that.

  Being alone in prison hardened me in some ways. Made me colder. I’ve always been the bad boy out of my brothers, not giving a shit about society the way they do. Our father had trouble reining me in when he was alive, too. I don’t think he minded that I was a free-thinker as much as he tried to give me shit for it, though.

  Cashton Malcolm made his fortune by being colder than the other guy, and I know I got that personality trait from him. Our mother passed when I was barely a teenager after a drunk driver hit her car on her way home from a charity event.

  For most families, that loss would have broken them. Fifteen years later and it’s pushed us to be more driven. More passionate. It’s helped to focus our ambition. Appreciate the things we’ve had in life.

  Until recently, I’d never had any of those things. Despite the heckling I know I’ll get from Crew and Cross, Farren is all of those things for me. I’ll give her anything she wants, just as long as I get her. She’ll be my entire world, and there isn’t a fucking thing I’d change about that.