“What do you mean?”
“Did Alec really do it? He would’ve boasted about it if he had, posted photos on Facebook, nicked some of your panties.”
“Gross.”
“Exactly. That’s Alec for you, and that’s why it’s odd that none of us heard a peep. And since I didn’t tell him about the secret entrance—” Eli glares at Gabriel, silencing him before he can say something crass, “—how did he get in?”
“I haven’t decided I believe you about the secret entrance,” I glare at him. “I saw Alec run away – he vaulted the wall like a pro, and he was wearing his letterman jacket.”
“Alec had his jacket stolen,” Eli says.
I snort. “Oh, sure. I believe that. He can’t wear it because it’s covered in my cat’s blood.”
“Is it possible that Alec wasn’t responsible for breaking into your house?”
“Who else could it—” I choke on my pancake.
I know exactly who it is.
Brutus.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuckedy, fucklestein.
I’m an idiot for not considering it before. I thought we had him under control, that there’s no way he’d be able to connect the dots. But with my face in the news, he might’ve put everything together. He might’ve stolen Alec’s jacket. He might’ve seen me use the secret entrance.
If he’s figured out our plan, he might be back to finish what he started.
He might be here to bury my secrets for good.
35
Mackenzie
Gabriel wants me to stay and hang out for the day, and as tempting as that is, I need to get home and call Antony and check on Queen Boudica. Eli offers to drop me at Malloy Manor, and against my better judgment, I accept.
“I’m sorry about Noah,” Eli says as we pull out into traffic. “It’s going to take him a while to stop seeing you as his brother’s killer.”
“I understand. I’ve lost people I loved, too. It’s impossible to let that shit go.”
“I don’t know. You seem adept at letting shit go.” Eli drapes his hand out the window. He’s got the top up now, and my playlist on low volume. It’s quiet enough to talk. I squirm in my seat, feeling the layer of sand grind into my ass through Gabriel’s sweatpants. “You don’t seem cut up about the fact you terrified Noah’s stepmom or branded Alec’s forehead in error.”
“You don’t seem cut up about your father being in prison,” I shoot back.
“You of all people should know how I feel about it,” Eli says. “Maybe I think he deserves it.”
“Alec deserves what he got, even if he didn’t hurt Queen Boudica. Call it revenge in advance. As for Noah, I am sorry about his stepmom, but I can’t do anything about it now. He’s got to learn to move the fuck on.”
“And me?” Eli stares straight ahead, deliberately not meeting my eyes. It’s almost more concerning than his usual intense focus. “You scared my cat. Does that make us even for my perceived slight?”
“You have a cat?”
“Yeah. A little black-and-white ball of energy named Gizmo. Maria found her living in the basement of her brother’s apartment complex. It was the year after you disappeared, and I wasn’t doing so hot. She thought caring for an animal might help me move on.” Eli tries for a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It worked.”
It didn’t work, that much is obvious. Suddenly, more than anything in the world, I want to meet this Gizmo. “Tell her I’m sorry I scared her. I thought—”
Eli pulls up at a stoplight and whips his head around, focusing those ocean eyes on me. “I’m going crazy here, Mackenzie. What’s happened to you? Where are your parents? If I didn’t tell anyone about the maintenance shed, then who snuck into your house? The look on your face this morning… you looked terrified. I’ve never seen you look like that, ever. Not even when your dad—”
“It’s nothing.”
Eli punches the wheel. “It’s not fucking nothing. You’re in danger and you won’t let me help. You disappeared on me all those years ago, and after the news about Noah’s brother came out, I thought… I thought maybe you’d skipped the country so your dad could avoid some kind of blowback from Noah’s family, but that’s not what your eyes say. You’re not afraid of Noah, so what is it?”
His chest heaves. A lock of golden hair falls over his eye. When he’s upset like this, his Tennessee accent comes in full force, and it’s fucking hot as hell. I watch him peel back those layers of rigid perfection to reveal the broken man beneath. Noah may have lost his brother, but Eli’s been in mourning for four years, and the pain of losing me still burns as bright as the day I left him without a goodbye.
I want nothing more than to take his pain away, but I can’t. It doesn’t belong to me. Eli’s heart is reserved for another Mackenzie, a Mackenzie trapped in time.
I take a deep breath.
I do a selfish thing. Or a selfless thing, depending on how you look at it. I throw up a barrier to protect my heart and his.
“I have an agreement with Gabriel, and I’m making the same one with you,” I say. “I’m not talking about my family or what happened four years ago. All you need to know is that my parents aren’t coming back. I’m the ghost of Malloy Manor, and it’s imperative I graduate Stonehurst Prep this year, with my sanity and my head intact. Actually, the former is optional.”
“And you don’t remember anything about your life before.” Eli swipes at that uncooperative lock of hair. “Dissociative amnesia, right? I’ve been researching it. It’s when your mind rejects memories and feeling and events that surround trauma—”
“Yes, amnesia. Exactly. So even if I wanted to talk about it, which I don’t, I wouldn’t have anything to say.”
Eli sighs. “Fine. I agree. On one condition.”
“I don’t do conditions.”
“Not even for an old friend?” Eli tries for one of his warm smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I promise not to ask, but you have to promise not to lie to me. I can’t take it, not after losing you once already. I only want to protect you, because even after all this time you’re still everything to me. If you lie… I’ll break. I’ll fucking come apart.”
Oh, super.
“Deal. No lies. Just evasive not-answers.” Eli turns into Harrington Road. “Take me along the back road.”
“Why not the front gates?” Tension hunches Eli’s shoulders.
I glare at him. “That counts as asking.”
Eli throws up his hands. “Why won’t you tell us anything?”
“Jesus.” I grab the wheel before the car spins out of control. “You’re too pretty and I’m too amazing to die in a car crash, okay?”
Eli takes the wheel again, drumming his fingers against the leather. “The other two I get. Gabe is Gabe and Noah hated your guts until yesterday. But we’ve been friends since we were five years old, Mackenzie. We’ve been through hell together, and I’ve always proven myself to you. Why can’t you talk to me?”
I fix him with my Ice Queen glare. It’s all I have to hold Eli’s gaze; that’s how intense his eyes are right now. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m trying to protect your ass for a change?”
“Or maybe you’re just trying to protect yourself.” Eli’s gaze drops to the locket at my throat. He swallows and tears his eyes away. “Even though he’s not here, your father’s still coming between us.”
He pulls over in front of the woods at the rear of my house, out of view of the other mansions on the hill. I give him one final glare as I slide out, but he pulls away before I can get the final word in. The Porsche roars around the corner and out of sight. I remain fixed in place, still watching the road, part of me expecting him to come back. My chest heaves. Finally, I pull myself together and duck into the trees, letting myself in through the maintenance door.
“Meow.” Queen Boudica leaps from hood to hood across the rows of ghost cars. She skids to a stop just as I reach the top of the
metal stairs, and lets out a howl of anguish.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry I left you for so long.” I scoop her into my arms. She settles into her scarf position, her whole body rumbling with pleasure at my return.
“She’ll tell you a story of woe, but I swear I fed her according to your detailed instructions.” A shadow emerges from beside the garage door. My heart clenches before he steps into the light and I recognize Tiberius. I’m not used to seeing people inside the house. It’s unsettling, but I’m glad he’s been here. “And we played at least three rounds of hide and seek.”
The idea of this hulking cage fighter crouching behind the sofa while my tiny, scrappy kitten stalks him fills me with mirth. “Thanks for cat-sitting, Tiberius.”
“My pleasure. Anything for Antony’s family. Antony dragged me out of the gutter, turned me into a fighter, gave me a family. Dude’s like a father to me.” Tiberius claps me on the shoulder, and I nearly go flying. “Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me, Mackenzie.”
I nod. I don’t like trusting this guy. But if Antony says he’s solid, then I trust Antony.
Tiberius opens his jacket to show me the holster and large knife strapped against his tight body. “Antony said you wouldn’t want anyone else in the house, but we’ve got men watching the perimeter 24/7. No one’s coming near this place without us knowing about it.”
I nod. “You saw the guy who dropped me off in the Porsche?”
“Sure did. He giving you trouble?” Tiberius grins, cracking his knuckles. “Name your torture, and it shall be done.”
“No. He’s safe. If you see him around, don’t shoot him full of bullets.” I pause. “Or the other two, either. I’ll send Antony photographs.”
Tiberius grins that maniacal grin of his. “As you wish. If you change your mind…”
As soon as I hear the maintenance door click shut behind him, I take Queen Boudica to my room and snuggle down in bed with her. She falls asleep instantly, her tiny face pushed up against my cheek. I call Antony to tell him about Brutus, then I pick up my diary and read it from cover to cover again, my fingers tracing the hearts doodled around Noah’s name.
The girl who wrote this diary was so taken with Noah’s dangerous eyes, she didn’t see the golden boy right in front of her. Now, that same girl had three impossible boys who tugged her in all directions, and all she wanted to do was save them all. But saving them meant pushing them away, and just the thought of it made my heart ache.
If Brutus is after me, this can only end in blood. I had to make sure it’s his blood and no one else’s.
I have more to lose than ever.
But Mackenzie Malloy doesn’t go down without a fight.
36
Mackenzie
I look forward to school on Monday with a mix of trepidation and excitement. On Sunday, Tiberius calls to tell me a package has arrived for me. I go to the front gate to collect it from him and find a brand new iPhone inside, with a note from Eli and his, Gabriel’s, and Noah’s numbers already programmed in.
Eli and Gabriel blow up my phone all weekend. Eli sends videos of his cat, Gizmo – a black-and-white tuxedo mix who loves sleeping in boxes – and Gabriel sends me links to bands and albums he loves. I make a playlist of Gabriel’s recommendations and listen to it while trying not to swoon.
A couple of times I find my finger poised over Noah’s name, the insane itch to message him twinging under my skin. I don’t succumb.
On Monday, Eli picks me up at the rear of the property. When we pull into the student parking lot, I notice Alec leaning against the columns in front of Stonehurst, sans jacket, a handful of his jock friends and cheerleaders surrounding him in a tight circle. The gaggle of bears and vipers who usually sit on the periphery of the group is nowhere to be seen, and other students seem to be taking a wide berth to avoid them. Alec’s face is stormy as hell.
He’s lonely up there on his pedestal.
Eli notices me watching. “We spent the weekend putting the word out. Alec LeMarque is canceled at Stonehurst Prep. No one except a few loyal fuckheads will go near him now.”
My hands curl into fists, and I miss the satisfying weight of my knife against my leg. I lost it in the desert, along with my phone and the last thread of my humanity. “I’m still going to claw his eyes out.”
Eli’s smile warms me from the inside out. “I’d like to see that.”
Walking to my locker with Eli is a new experience. It takes us three times as long because he keeps stopping to talk to people. Unlike Gabriel and Noah who breeze past anyone they deem beneath them, Eli always has time to comment on a teammate’s performance or wish the Theatresports team good luck for their upcoming competition.
Who knew popular boys can be so damn nice?
Who knew basic human decency is so fucking hot?
By the time we reach our lockers, I’m ready to jump Eli’s bones, consequences be damned. Then Noah leans against my locker door, and I’m momentarily stricken by the contrast. Whereas Eli is all Southern charm and fashion-magazine good-looks, Noah’s the bad boy with the fuck-you attitude and haunting eyes. Those coal-orbs fix me with a devastating glare. “5PM, library. Don’t be late.”
“What’s this?” I raise a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow.
“Your tutoring session.” Noah gives me one final, penetrating glare, then storms off.
I glare at Eli, who bursts out laughing. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t make him tutor you. Grumpypuss must’ve decided for himself you’re worth the effort.”
Intriguing.
Eli walks me to homeroom, where Gabriel waits to escort me on his arm like I’m the queen. He does this between all my morning classes, keeping up an easy conversation in an attempt to distract me from the eye-daggers Cleo’s throwing at my back. I could get used to this.
Cleo I can handle, but when we step into third-period English and Alec LeMarque glares at me from a seat in the second row, my body recoils against Gabriel. It’s this visceral sense of wrongness, like space bends around Alec’s body, and he not a person so much as a portal into a dark void where a cosmic god devours souls.
Okay, that might just be my imagination recalling this reverse harem book, Kings of Miskatonic Prep, that I read last night, but still. Alec’s assault left a mark on my psyche that all my bravado and vengeance cannot heal.
My mind flicks back to George, and I wonder again if this is something she feels, if the hurt Alec has done to her runs deeper than just bullying. It’s enough to make me wring his neck right there. Gabriel senses my body stiffening and leads me to a desk as far from Alec as it’s possible to get.
I don’t hear a word of the lesson.
One of the guys remains at my side during every class. In History, we’re supposed to be working on our essays about the impact of colonialism on indigenous cultures, but Eli studies me instead, no doubt searching my face for signs that this fresh trauma is making my amnesia worse.
By the time lunch rolls around, I’m sweating from the stress of seeing Alec everywhere. I tense up in the halls, certain he’ll be waiting around the next corner to leap out and attack me.
On the way to lunch, we pass George with her pockets stuffed with food, heading to the bathroom. “Hey, George,” Eli waves. “Over here.”
Every face in the hallway turns to watch the exchange. Eli Hart, king of the school, talking to weirdo freak George? No one knows what to make of it. Gabriel saunters up behind us, and he flashes George his cheekiest, friendliest smile.
George’s face goes red as a beet, but she falls in step beside me. I throw my arm around her shoulders, marveling at how tiny she is – I’m short as fuck and she’s a good two inches shorter than me, and her unusual hair and nose piercings only make her look even smaller and more pixie-like.
Eli leads us through the dining hall, his jaw set with determination. When we arrive at the Royal table, it’s already occupied with three of the jocks, the same three guys who were standing with Alec on the front st
eps. Just seeing their faces, remembering the way their features twisted like horror movie monsters as they came at me in the desert, made me want to run. But I held my ground. Mackenzie Malloy isn’t afraid of her attackers.
Mackenzie Malloy will fuck you all up.
Everyone falls silent. Gabriel takes a seat right in the middle and pulls me down next to him. George looks like she’s going to bolt, or vomit, or possibly both, but I pat the seat next to me and she sits gingerly on the edge.
Everyone’s staring at us. All conversation has stopped. I glare at the guy sitting opposite me, whose name is Darren. I dare him to speak, but he just frowns at his lunch.
Gabriel’s the one who breaks the silence. He points to the patch from a punk band on George’s satchel. “I love these guys. You have good taste.”
George glances down, as if seeing her bag for the first time. She bites her lip. “Yeah, I—I guess I listen to a lot of punk.”
They start an intense conversation, throwing obscure bands and song titles back and forth. Everyone around us takes this as a cue to that conversation is allowed to begin again, that an uneasy truce has been reached at the royal table—
“What the fuck?”
It’s not Darren who rasps those words, but someone behind me. Someone who drives a shard of ice through my chest.
My whole body clenches. I don’t have to turn around to recognize the voice. I’ll remember it forever, the way it hissed in my ear as an unwanted cock brushed against my thigh.
Alec.
The urge to run consumes me. I’m tough, sure, but this guy tried to rape me and he’s standing right behind me, close enough that I can smell him. I grip the edge of the table and force my shoulders to relax.
We could have reported you, Alec. We let you believe you’ve gotten away with this, that the worst I can do to you is over.
You are wrong.
Gabriel and Eli stand up, flanking either side of me. Eli folds his arms, and I’m aware suddenly of just how toned and fucking sexy his forearms are. He’s not quite as ripped as Noah, but all that running left him in fine physical fitness. Between Eli and pretty-actor-boy Alec, I have no doubt who will win if Eli decides to bring fists into play.
My Stolen Life: a high school bully romance (Stonehurst Prep Book 1) Page 18