Page 77 of By the Fae

“I’d rather not!” I called after him.

“My house, my rules. I need to speak with you.”

I shared a look with Holly before pushing myself to my feet and following Mal. I felt like the kid that got caught stealing his brother’s bike and was now readying himself for the severe telling off.

Mal shut the kitchen door behind us. I took a seat at the table, deciding I didn’t have the strength to stand whilst being yelled at. His hands went to his hair. He began pacing. His wings twitched at his sides. Was he nervous?

Mal blew out a breath. Okay, definitely nervous.

“This thing you’re doing with Holly is stupid. You’re being stupid—”

“I know,” I said.

He paused, frowned at me, shook his head. “No, let me finish. I have things I need to say.”

I held out a hand in ago ongesture.

“You’re . . . You mean too much to me, Goldie. I’m losing my fucking mind out here. Knowing you are willingly marching towards eternal despair. You . . . Fuck man. The only thing this can possibly lead to is guaranteed heartbreak. A ripped into tiny shards, stomped to a bloody, pulverised mess kind of heartbreak. I can’t let you do this. I . . .”

Mal’s wings flexed behind him. “I’ve known you longer than anyone. You’re my oldest friend. We’re brothers. I can’t . . . you’re . . . no. Just no. I can’t do it. I cannot watch you grieve like I did.”

“That won’t hap—”

“You’re not as strong as me!” Mal yelled. “You won’t survive it.”

“Cheers for that,” I said, my voice calm, though my insides were a dinghy battling through a storm. He was right. I wasn’t as strong as him, and I wouldn’t survive it. I already knew that much. I pushed ahead. “But you’re getting way ahead of yourself. Our ‘deal’ ends next Saturday. She has a date with the guy she’s been crushing on since she started at FaeGames. So, you don’t have to worry about my poor little heart. This,” I gestured a hand towards the hallway, to Holly waiting for me in the living room, “Is all temporary. It will end soon. And we can, all of us, move on.”

Mal’s charcoal eyes landed on mine. He sat in the chair opposite me, his chest heaved up and down. He said nothing for a good two minutes. It felt like eighty. “And you’re okay with that? With it ending just like that?”

No, no, I wasn’t. “What other choice do I have?”

He pursed his lips. “It’s for the best.”

I didn’t respond, didn’t have anything to say.

“So, what, you’ve only got a week left of this deal? And you’re going to spend that with her?” He chewed the inside of his cheek as though spending another week with Holly would be the stupidest decision to have ever been made. He wouldn’t be wrong.

I nodded. It may have been a terrible idea, but I wouldn’t miss a second with her.

Mal assessed me for a few beats, nodded once, probably to himself, and pushed to his feet. “I’ll see you in a week then. I can’t hang around and witness this. It’s like watching someone about to jump from the ledge of a skyscraper.” And with that he left.

“Fuck,” I said under my breath.

I had made a huge mistake.

Chapter 26.

Holly

Onions, garlic, spices, chicken sizzling on the griddle, the radio playing bassy clubbing tunes, the soft whir of the extractor fan. The smells filled my mouth with saliva and the everyday domesticity filled the rest of me with a homely, cosy belonging.

Goldie’s apartment had begun to feel more welcoming than Mum and Phil’s flat. There, I was always in someone’s way, or holed up in my postage-stamp room, confined to the three-foot-by-six-foot bottom bunk. Watching videos on my phone with headphones on, trying not to creek the bed too much, or need the bathroom when someone else did.

Here, though there were technically more people, I never felt like I was tripping over someone just to make a cup of tea. I could pee whenever I wanted, and every room was huge. There was enough space to swing a tapir, but it still felt like a home.

I would really miss this place after next week.

Having declared myself officially useless at any form of cooking, I relegated myself to chopping duty. Not complaining, since I could sit at the kitchen table and casually ogle the highly attractive chef currently preparing a feast for a family of four. Five if you included Dima.

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