Page 45 of Made in Malice

LUCIAN

I knew she wouldn’t show, and it still pisses me off. I warned her what would happen if she didn’t listen, and now it’s time to show her I always keep my word.

“Where are you going?” Nox asks, taking his face out of his phone for a brief moment.

“Out,” is all I say.

“You’re going to get her.” He knows me too well. “Try being nice. Give her a little of that Southern charm Mom always swore by.” He’s lying on the sofa in the billiard room, where we spend most of our time, while watching me intently.

“She also said a good crack on the ass would straighten anyone out. Should I try that too?”

“If she’s into it, I’m down, but I still think a less threatening approach might win you some favor.”

“I want answers, not her favor.”

“It’ll be easier for me if you’re a dick anyway.” He shrugs, sitting up.

“What the fuck does that mean? Easier for you to what?”

“Tell me how it goes,” he says and glides out of the room without giving me an answer.

“Nox. Nox! What the fuck, man?” I yell at his back as an idea takes root in my mind. Nox hasn’t been interested in anything in a long time, but he was willing to go to the school and meet her. I assumed that had more to do with me than her, but maybe I was wrong. The way he touched her that day and seemed worried about her didn’t have anything to do with me.

Could it be that she might be the one to wake my brother up and give him something to fight for so he will stop slipping away? I shove the strands of hope down. He doesn’t know her, and he has only seen her once. I’m just desperate for something to bring him back to me, even if it is her for now.

I stalk through the dark house. I am going to get her, and when I do, she won’t be leaving until I allow it.

Lucian

The bar is packed, and the smell of food reminds me that I haven’t eaten yet. I push through the crowd waiting to be seated and stand in front of the girl holding menus. Her eyes go wide when she sees me. I wasn’t sure if she would know who I am, but I needn’t have worried.

I about swallowed my fucking tongue when Nox told me it was going around on social media that she was spotted working here. It was almost unbelievable that an Umbra would be working in a townie beach bar, but I confirmed the truth last night.

I watched her from the beach, giving smiles freely to everyone who spoke to her and working her ass off in baggy shorts and that tight shirt that stretched across her tits. I don’t know why she bothers with loose clothes, since they do nothing to hide her hips and ass. Hell, I caught myself watching the jiggle when she would lean over to clean the counter, which was why I was still there when she got off work.

I had no intention of approaching her when I went there, it was mostly to see for myself what she was up to, but I planted my ass on the sand for a few hours and watched her and the waves. Nobody even approached me. It was fucking bliss.

“I want a seat at the bar.”

She snaps her head to the left to examine the stools, then she returns her gaze to me while biting her lower lip. “It might be a minute, but I’ll find something,” she replies as if I might just go knock someone off their stool and take it if she’s not quick enough.

I nod once and lift my gaze, so she knows to get going. True to her word, she’s back in under a minute to guide me to an empty stool at the end of the bar. Nova’s face goes pale for a brief moment when she sees me approach. I pretend to ignore the man seated next to me, who leans to the side and eyeballs me, but I’m aware of his every move.

My lamb’s hand trembles when she extends a bottle of beer to a man farther down the bar, and I get a thrill from knowing I’m the one causing it. The older man who kept calling her darlin’ ambles over to me and tosses his towel up over his shoulder, even though it’s clear I’m watching and waiting for his coworker.

“What can I get ya, fella?”

“I’ll wait for her.” I don’t even look in his direction.

“She doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to get down here.” He leans his elbow on the bar and looks in Nova’s direction as if he’s admiring the view while rubbing in the fact that she’s ignoring me at the same time. It pisses me off.

“Lamb.” I don’t say it loud, but it’s enough to have her head snapping in my direction and her sea blue eyes slitting. “Don’t worry, she’ll take good care of me.” The inuendo is intentional, even if it’s misleading.

With a roll of her hips, she pivots and stalks toward me, giving the other bartender a silent signal to move along with a nod of her head. He waits until she’s standing in front of me before saying, “Let me know if we’ve got a problem, darlin’.”

“There’s no problem here, Mickey,” she tells him in a soft, unsure voice. He lingers, but I’m too busy staring at my lamb to give him any attention.

“I have a problem,” I tell her once he’s gone.

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