Page 6 of Little Stranger

I sigh. “I really suggest you don’t fight our parents on this. Their tradition is that I’ve to be pure and innocent until I’m married, and you can do whatever you want. Just enjoy your freedom.”

Before he can respond—probably something angry given the look in his eyes—I turn away, blocking his communication, and head inside to pay and grab some snacks.

While I’m waiting in line, a tap on my shoulder has me jumping and turning, and dropping my bags of chips on the ground. We both lower to our knees to pick them up, and my hand lands on theirs. My eyes lift, and I find Adam, who I used to sit beside in calculus, smiling back at me.

I haven’t seen him in months. He dropped out of school and vanished, which was a surprise, since he was one of the best jocks, smart, and—dare I say—handsome?

A voice in the back of my head is yelling at me to grab the chips and leave, but we end up talking for nearly ten minutes while the cashier waits, joining in when we comment on how terrible the weather’s been for June, before the bell jingles above the door and Malachi storms in.

His eyes are on the guy I’ve been talking to, and he looks mad.

No. Furious.

“Oh, sorry, I was just talking to—”

He slams Adam’s head into the wall with enough force that I cringe at the cracking sound. Once, twice, three times, and blood splatters as Adam goes limp on the ground. My eyes are wide, no sound coming out of my parted lips as the cashier runs to call the cops.

Malachi’s nostrils are flaring, and he turns to me, grabs my jaw, and signs,No.

“I didn’t do anything,” I breathe. “Why… why did you just do that?” My gaze drops to a passed-out Adam, blood oozing from a cut on his head, and I glance up. “Malachi…”

He shakes his head, lowering his raging gaze to Adam rousing and trying to get up from the floor, then snatches my wrist and pulls me out of the gas station.

He tosses me into the car then slams the door, and I’m frozen, barely blinking as he sits behind the wheel. He’s signing something to me, but I’m not looking, my heart racing as he breathes out a huff and speeds out of the gas station.

He drives us home, and I sit in silence, occasionally glancing at his right hand, the one he just used to assault Adam. Shaking, he grips the steering wheel, and I gulp at the bulging veins in his arms, feeling a sensation between my legs that definitely shouldn’t be there.

I shouldn’t be turned on from watching him attack someone. His violence should be punished. I should be yelling at him for doing that; instead, I’m envisioning him holding me down and…

“Why did you do that?” I ask, trying to keep my tone calm and collected.

But I fail. Why does my voice sound all breathy and needy?

Why are my panties soaked?

Sick. Sick, sick, sick. And shameful.

Malachi ignores me and drives faster.

“He was a friend from school. He knocked into me by accident, and we were only talking. He wasn’t being a dick or anything.”

Shut up,he signs.

I scowl, crossing my arms. “The cops are going to come for you now, and Dad is going to be so mad, and then Mom will get into a fight with him. Just drop me at Abbi’s.”

No.

“Malachi. Drop me at Abbi’s place or I’ll scream.”

He glances at me, presses down on the accelerator, and signs,Then scream.

I shake my head and look out of the window. He doesn’t take me to my friend’s house; he drives us both home. As soon as he pulls into the garage, I throw open the door and run to my room.

Mom and Dad get home around the same time the cops arrive, informing them that Adam doesn’t want to press charges. The entire time Malachi is unfazed, slouched in a chair with parted legs, his eyes glued to a spot on the wall as he blanks everyone out.

He gets a warning—to be on his best behavior and possibly seek some help.

Mom’s eyes are wet, and she keeps glancing at Malachi as if he’s going to defend his actions, but he flicks his lighter and ignores them.

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