“I didn’t say I wanted to get rid of it,” I resume, looking back at him. His eyes open, head turning towards me. “I asked if distance changed it.”
“I wouldn’t know. You’d have to ask Gray. I’ve never felt it before you.” He hasn’t? “And you’re not far away from me yet.”
“Can you still feel it, too?”
“Just. Although I suppose that will fade now. Why are you miserable?”
“Because you are.”
“I’ll be less miserable if you come and put yourself on my dick.”
A low snort breaks out of me, eyes watching his smile starting to emerge. It’s nice to see again, comforting for some reason, and it lightens that bleak feeling I’m carrying with me everywhere. It’s not real, though. Nothing is until he does it all the time and this undercurrent of misery goes away. “Why are you miserable, Malachi?”
“It’s just who I am.”
“Well, perhaps you should tell me who you are instead of distracting yourself with fucking?”
“I like the way you say that. Say it again.”
“Fucking?”
He nods and looks back at the fire. “Again.”
No. I’ve got another word for him to swill round his brain, though. One that’s probably going to change his lightening mood. “How about suicide for a word.”
He stands almost immediately, his entire height filling my vision and the fire’s reflection glowing on his exposed skin. “Eat and then leave, Ally Cat,” he says, sharply. “Your help is as pointless as your existence. The car will be waiting for you by the main door when you’re ready.”
Finished with his clipped tone, he strides towards the bedroom doors again, as if dismissing me and the conversation. I watch the door close behind him, damn sure I don’t like being dismissed any more than I like being hunted. Either way, I’m eating first. Maybe I’ll make a decent decision after food, one that’s not only based on what seems to be a freaky ass obsession with him.
Chapter 6
Malachi
Ablack shirt gets pulled on, the boots next, and then I walk into the bathroom to deal with whatever ever needs dealing with. I’m going down to do what I normally do while I’m here. If I wanted complications, or considerations, or anything that involved serious thought about why I am the way I am, I would have stayed in Manhattan. I didn’t.
And still don’t.
Five minutes later I walk straight past her sitting in the same place I left her, ignore the smell of food, or her attractive mouth eating it, and keep moving through the hallways. I’m not hungry anyway. Certainly not after the six pills I’ve just swallowed. And I’m not even entertaining whatever this game is that they’re trying to play. I just needed some sleep, time to ease off and actually rest. It worked. I feel better now, more like a human should. Whether that was because of her, or Gray’s interference, or the simple fucking solution of sleep, I’m not concerned about.
Unlocking the main door, I slip the keys back into my pocket and head for the elevator. How many here now? What day is it? And where the fuck are security? I’ll go there first, find out what the hell they were doing yesterday by allowing Gray to become lord and master around here. No one else is that but me. Not one single fucking person should hold that authority but the one holding these damn keys. My castle. My dens of iniquity. My fucking rules.
By the time the steel door slides opens, I can barely see straight.
I blink and hold onto the wall, confused at the sudden feeling. Waves of nausea come with it, enough that I end up leaning on the damn wall for support. And then pain. My stomach cramps up with an ache so fucking profound I struggle to stay upright, and I eventually buckle to the ground because of it. It’s all over me, through me, inside me.
Growling at it, I pull towards the wall again, hands trying to grab at the old stone. Nothing works. Everything’s so consumed by the pain that I’m not even able to stand again. I end up laying on the floor, knees pulled to my chest and hands grabbing at my stomach and chest.
“Fourteen hours.” I roll sideways and find Gray stood above me, hard eyes concentrated on my writhing form. “Not even one full day, Malachi.”
I don’t even care what he’s saying. The pain’s too much. Everything’s a haze of nothing. And he can go fuck himself if he’s here to chastise me. The thought makes me crawl, regardless of the agony, and try to get back to my room. Every inch of movement feels like knives in my guts, hundreds of them stabbing so severely I feel like ripping my insides out.
His footsteps sound loudly behind me the entire way, occasionally stopping when I do and then following again. I’m so fucking exhausted from the pain by the time I reach the main lounge that I can barely lift my body anymore.
“Jesus!” A crash sounds, and then a hand moves over my body. Soft hand, small hand. It lifts my head, looks into my eyes – Alice. “What the fuck is going on?” she shouts.
She moves closer and tucks her legs under my head, lifting me slightly to get me there. Memories come to me from somewhere, numbing the pain for a second. She did that before. Held my head on her legs,. Kept me still. “Gray?”
“A few more minutes.”
