Page 58 of Redeeming the Villain
“The Briarwoods had something to do with Micah’s death.”
* * *
After talking to Griffin, I really do start to feel a lot better, which is an unexpected surprise. But I also feel like the reason the weight seems to be lighter is because I forced him to carry some of it. A burden that’s not his to bear.
“See you in a few.” Griffin walks across the parking lot to his pickup as I slide in my Corvette and close the door, bringing the engine to life.
The drive home is beautiful. The sun is already set, stars and the moon glowing up in the sky.
The air is nice and crisp, not too cold, but not too warm. It’s perfect. Calm.
Exactly what I need right now. I’m tired. Emotionally, physically, I’m wiped. I just want to go home and crash after eating dinner.
By the time I pull into the driveway, I feel gravity harder than ever as the exhaustion from today starts to fully set in.
Finishing ascending the ridiculous set of stairs to the front door, I walk inside.
“Malik …” Blair widens her eyes as soon as she sees me, stopping dead in her tracks as she walks out of the kitchen with two glasses of water.
I actually need to apologize to her, so this works out. “Hey, can I talk to you quickly?”
Her mouth starts to form words, but nothing comes out. A beat of silence later, she murmurs, “I thought you guys were practicing later than this tonight.”
Weird. “Nope. Why? What’s going on?”
“Blair, is this okay to borrow? I’ll bring them back to you once I can get home and change.” Alora walks around the corner, smiling, but the moment she realizes I’m standing here, she freezes, her smile quickly withering away.
“Why are you here?” My question slices through the air, my words sharp and jagged as I step past Blair.
Blair purses her lips, answering for Alora. “We were studying and working on homework together. And then we were painting with Chip, and it ended in a little paint fight. Anyway, it’s not justyourhouse, Malik.” She says my name like a warning.
Alora slowly walks closer to Blair, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment most likely. She whispers something to Blair.
“No, you don’t have to go. Seriously, this is my house more than it is his. He can”—she raises her voice—“grow up!”
Alora’s hair is up in a low, messy bun with loose, wavy strands pointing every which way. I have to stop the thought that I think it looks good like that.
The sweatshirt she’s wearing instantly catches my attention, the Legends hoodie looking oddly familiar. “So, why in the hell are you wearing my sweatshirt?”
Blair studies her for a moment. “It must have gotten mixed in with my laundry. I had to get her a change of clothes from the dryer after the painting incident with Chip.”
Walking across the foyer, I’m once again reminded of our height difference as I stare down at her, a foot between us.
Fuck, she looks good in my hoodie.
But this isn’t right. None of this is right.
Embers burn in her gaze as she looks up at me with firmly sealed lips. “I wouldneverhave chosen this had I known it wasyours.”
A smirk forms on my lips as I huff, a soft chuckle escaping. “Sure. Then give it back.”
I challenge her, knowing she’ll probably back down or say something snarky and insist on leaving with it—both sounding like a win in my book.
Her eyes ignite, and her spine straightens. “Withpleasure.”
Crossing my arms, I expect her to walk away. But instead, she surprises me.
Grabbing the bottom of the hoodie, she lifts it up and rips it off of her body with haste. Thrusting it into my chest, she makes sure to add some extra force behind it. “Here. Happy?”
