Malum: Part 2 (The Elite Kings Club Book 5)

by Amo Jones

If you hurt someone enough, they acclimatize to pain, but just like a wound, if you don’t seal it, you’ll bleed out.

I feel for Nate. I do. I’m in love with him, but I will never expose my feelings to him. You can’t. Once you expose your love for someone, you’ve surrendered your power, and in this case, my forgiveness. I won’t let him win. Not this time, and not any time soon.

“One day, when this asshole isn’t lurking around you like a hungry lion protecting his prey, I’m going to play some games with you.”

“The kind where there are only two players until it’s Game Over.”

“It’s supposed to make you fucking realize that I’m not a goddam monster, Tillie. My shit has purpose. Real fucking purpose.” “You’re not a monster?” I ask, tilting my head while softening my voice. “No, I’m not. I can be, yes, but like I’ve always said, I’ve never shown that fucking side of me to you.”

“Because your demons whispered all your secrets into my ear the day you dragged me through your hell, and let me tell you something, you are a monster, Nate. And a liar.”

I can count on one hand how many times I have been shackled by a woman. Rendered fucking speechless and brought to my damn knees by a simple blink of her eye. Three times. Twice was Tillie, and the other was Micaela.

I smirk. Because it’s fucking cute that she does shit to try to make herself appear stronger than she feels. Not saying she’s not, she’s definitely the most glued together girl we’ve ever had around. She’s level-headed, smart, fucking sassy, and she can hold her own. She doesn’t do drugs, (usually), and doesn’t give a fuck if anyone else is doing it. She hardly drinks and doesn’t sleep around. How’d I manage to fuck all of that up epically in the span of a few months? Right. Because I’m me.

She’s angry now. Good. She’s always cute, but when she’s angry, there’s something inside of me that recognizes her fire and wants to build an inferno with her. The only problem is that those closest to us get burned. She holds all of the cards when it comes to me. But my poker face is too good, so she just doesn’t know it yet. Connection is rare, I fucking know this. As much as there’s still so much that she doesn’t know yet, I have every intention to keep her safe. How I go about that, though, is completely up to me. Those are the cards that I’m dealing and that’s the hand I’ll be playing.

“The fact that you think you have any power when it comes to me. Because just to be clear, princess, you don’t. Get up.” I yank her until she’s standing.

“Don’t have to like me to sit on my dick, princess.” Then I yank her down until her ass is pressing into my cock.

“You think you have the power, but last I checked, I’m the one with the pussy.”

“You’re a pain in not just his ass, but mine too, but I don’t get to eat that ass, so this shit isn’t fair.”

“I might let you taste it if she doesn’t behave herself.” Tillie swipes her hair out of her face. “Well, in that case, I’ll misbehave all I can.”

Do I want to wife her? Fuck no. Do I even want a relationship with her? Also fuck no. I’m not ready to have my cock on a leash, but do I have feelings for her? Yeah. I’m man enough to admit that. To myself, not anyone else. Tillie plays with my emotions like a fucking fiddle. I’ve seen what happens when I give her half of me. I lose myself in her, lost in a fucking daze that I never want to wake from. Give her all of me? I’d never survive. So for now, she’ll just have to eat my words. Or choke on them. Whichever will work for me.

The girl will never obey fucking orders, only when her lips are wrapped around my cock.

“She has fucking changed, Tillie. She’s not the same fucking girl that I fell in love with. It fucking happens. It fucking happened,” he sighs, just as the limo pulls to a stop. Bishop buries his face in his hands, shaking his head. His hurt and agony fills the small space of the limo.

All that matters is that the most epic love story to ever grace our world is on the edge of complete annihilation. An apocalypse of love.

“I swear to god, Tillie, I’m going to start giving you warnings. You get three a day.” The light flicks on and we’re met with this beautifully dark and haunted mansion. “You get to three and I’m taking you over my knee and beating your ass blue. Deal?”

Nate yanks on the handcuff. “She’s just going to play up

on purpose now. Stop feeding the monster.” Brantley turns to look over his shoulder, his eyes darkening. “I happen to like my little terror.”

“Tell me he will be okay. That this up and down bipolar thing isn’t going to be forever.”

My throat swells with emotion, but I choke down any tears. They cannot see any of my weaknesses, and Nate is my biggest.

“You’ll come to learn, or are already learning, that there are two sides to Nate. This is just him. This is how he is. How he reacts to different circumstances is always erratic, we can never be sure which side we’re going to land on. There’s the jokester side, then there’s his Malum side. He battles with the two personalities a lot, I know this, but one thing you should always remember is that both of those sides hav...

So why is it that when it comes to Daemon, I can feel so strongly for him while really knowing nothing much about him. Connection? Sure. Love? A little bit. But mystery? Danger? Definitely. Daemon is the calm before the storm. You know it could be deadly, but it’s also controlled. I used to think the same about Nate and Bishop, but lately, their decisions have been driven by something far more powerful. Love and Hate.

“It’s not all that bad. Brantley throws platinum cards at me and bought me a shiny new car.” I smirk at Brantley. “I would call that love in their language.” Brantley flips me off. “Shut up.”

I’m not proud of this dress choice, but I’m feeling hasty tonight. I don’t want to think about my past. I want it to disappear. I want to feel numb. I’m tired of hurting. As much as I think to myself that I need to turn dead inside against certain things or people, I don’t work like that. I can act like situations don’t affect me, but I’m only lying to myself. I’m good with lying to myself, and to others around me. If this is the only way that I’m going to be able to swim to the shoreline of peace, then I’ll make sure I float and not sink.

“I take it boyfriends one and two haven’t seen you yet?” He raises a perfect eyebrow, his eyes dropping down my body. “Bran Bran and Nate? No.” I shake my head, chuckling to myself.

“Well, well, well, my little terror clearly looks like she’s out to play tonight,” Brantley mutters, sidestepping Nate and making his way to me. I feel his hands on my waist, but Nate’s eyes are what I feel the most.

he has also been showing me more of the side that made me fall in love with him to begin with. I hate it. It’s so much easier to hate him when he’s being mean.

Nate’s eyes are still on mine. I hate that I’m a slave to the way he makes me feel. I don’t like not being in control, and that’s exactly what he does to me—he takes my control. When he watches me, he doesn’t just look at me. He studies me, examines me, strips the flesh from my bones with a simple squint of an eye.

“You are what, Tillie? You are his world. Everything begins and ends with you. He doesn’t hold secrets from you. You are a big part of this world, they all fucking love you—I damn well envy you.” She sighs, burying her face in her hands. “I know that’s pathetic. I know that I love Bishop and he loves me, but sometimes love isn’t enough to get through, you know?”

Maybe we had a chance before, but since we both lost someone we loved so much, love isn’t what we’re feeling right now. All love does is remind us of what we’ve lost.

“Crazy girls fuck better.” Bishop chuckles, swiping his mouth. “But they don’t know shit about love.”

Pain doesn’t define us, it shapes us. We come into this world as newborns, a fresh start. New life, a crisp soul. Then life happens, and every single choice you make has an implication. Every scar has a story, or it doesn’t and it’s just a scar, but whether or not it has a story, it’s still a scar, and that scar doesn’t define us, so why should pain?

My beautiful saving grace isn’t grace at all. He’s weeping with darkness and demons, but he’s still mine.

He doesn’t fix my broken parts, he just fills them with peace.

“Nightmares make you appreciate the good. They remind you that your life could be worse,”

“Because you remind me of everything that I lost. You remind me of her. Everything about you is a reminder of her. Your smell, your laugh, your smile.”

“Everything that I came to love about you was buried with our daughter. The way you would make her laugh in the morning when you’d change her diaper, or when you’d put her in the bed with us and we would just fucking admire the perfection that we both created. But that’s all gone, Tillie, and now all that’s left is anger and hurt, and a whole lot of fucking pain that I can’t afford to be feeling. It makes me distracted.” I can feel myself slowly slipping away. “Then let me go.” There’s a pause. “I can’t.”

“Because knowing you’re okay is worth the pain that having you in my arms causes.”

Call me a rebel because I want to be fucked by one.

“You go near anyone else and I’ll kill them.” I smirk. “Fine by me. Just make sure it’s after I’ve fucked their brains out.”

“Remind me to not let my future woman anywhere near those two misfits. I ain’t even playin’.” Eli shakes his head, smirking.

🤣

“My little terror,” Brantley smirks, coming closer to me and grabbing my hand to help me out of the tub. “I’m a little proud, and a lot fucking turned on right now.” His eyes darken. “Red is definitely your color.”

“You gave me the most beautiful little fucking girl in the world, and I broke her, Tillie. My world touched her and now? Now I’m always reminded of that because of your existence.”

“I’m battling an internal war with myself every second of every fucking day. I hate you. I hate your smell because I remember what it smells like mixed with her innocent scent. I hate your fucking voice because I remember how you used it on her, and how it would soften every time you would say ‘Micaela’—”

“You’re going to hear me, Tillie, because you think that my hate for you, that my feelings toward you are as shallow as Bishop had for Madison. You know me. I don’t fuck like that. You should have known that there was more to me being like this. But you fucking didn’t. You thought I hated you because fuck knows why, because you think it gets my dick hard like it did Bishop. You’re wrong. It’s far fucking deeper than that.”

“I never wanted to fucking hurt you. Never. But every fucking day. Every fucking day I’m reminded. I’m haunted by her through you. Yeah, that may not be your fault, but it’s how I’m dealing with it.”

“Wear that dress and own your crown.”