God of Malice: Chapter 30

I’m losing a piece of myself.

And it’s happening so fast that I can’t catch my breath during the process.

In fact, I only realized it when I couldn’t sleep in the flat I share with the girls anymore. It became absolutely strange and appalling to sleep on any bed other than Killian’s.

It’s been three weeks since that night I woke up with his dick inside me and slowly fused my life with his.

I’m losing control—or whatever control I have.

Which is why I’m drinking right now with everyone in a downtown quiet-ish pub. Well, as quiet as pubs that uni kids go to can get. At least it’s not rowdy like the bigger club on the other side of town.

An unknown band plays in the background, the music drowned out by the sound of chatter and the pinging of billiard balls. The smell of alcohol permeates the air or maybe just my nose.

I don’t usually drink, because it makes me act like a fool, but it’s not like I’m doing it with strangers.

After making sure I have enough shots to send me into a coma, I down the fifth. No, I think it’s the seventh.

“Easy on the alcohol, Glyn,” Cecily chastises from beside me. She’s been nursing one glass of tequila since we got here.

“Let her be.” Remi slides a shot glass in my direction. “I love drunk Glyndon.”

I smile with one eye open and hold the glass up, then drink it. “One in your honor, Remi.”

“Hell to the fucking yeah.” He pours another shot down his throat. “My lordship has decided to forgive you for choosing this boring pub.”

I roll my hand exaggeratingly and bow. “Much appreciated, Your Majesty.”

“It’s your lordship, peasant.”

“Her mum has a lady title.” Ava pokes him with a chip. “Ignorant much?”

“Wait, really? How come I’m only finding out about this now?” Remi looks up, placing an L on his chin in a comical thoughtful gesture. “Must be because you all act like peasants, except for you, Bran. You’re definitely aristocracy. Beautiful, suave, and with that untouchable charisma. You take that after me.”

Bran shakes his head. “I was born before you, Remi.”

“So? You can still take after me. Isn’t that right, Cray Cray?”

My cousin seems more preoccupied with his phone than anyone at the table.

Annika lounges opposite him, looking like a real-life Barbie. She stopped chattering on and on in Creigh’s company lately and even started to distance herself. Not sure if it’s because she gets absolutely no answer in return or she couldn’t be bothered anymore. Sometimes, I feel sorry for her. She had to be interested in someone who doesn’t feel the need to talk.

It’s why he gets along with Bran. They can sit around for hours on end and not say a word. No kidding. Ava and Remi tested it once.

Since Bran gets along with Mia, Creigh could, too, if he meets her. Though in the few times we’ve gotten together over the past couple of weeks, I gathered that she’s expressive, just doesn’t talk. Killian said it’s due to an incident that took place in her childhood. And he’s become her personal translator whenever Bran and I are around.

Sometimes, he’ll be a dick and refuse to, so she’s teaching us sign language now.

Despite his wanker behavior, I like Killian when Mia’s around. He treats her like his little sister, just like Nikolai does. Her twin, Maya, told me that he once broke a high school boy’s jaw because he kept bullying her for being ‘mute.’

Nikolai was offended that he was the last to hear, so when the boy healed, he sent him back to the ER for other injuries.

And while the recounting of events had me shocked for a while, I’m more touched about his involvement in Mia’s life.

It’s a side of him that shows he can care. That, under the right circumstances, he can consider something precious.

Or maybe I’m just deluding myself.

One more shot.

“Seriously, Glyn, aren’t you going too far?” Cecily and her doppelgänger frown.

“When did you get a twin?” I slur.

“When you’re drunk.”

“Pfft, I’m not drunk. Come on, guys. Let’s play a game.”

“How about an I’m ghosting my friends for dick game,” Ava grumbles, probably drunk herself. She can’t hold her alcohol to save her life.

“Didn’t need that image.” Bran grimaces and she winces, then hugs his shoulder.

“Ugh. Sorry about that.”

“Apology accepted. Now, can you please stop touching me, or I’ll be in worse trouble if Eli finds out about this.”

Her cheeks turn red. “Eli can go fuck himself.”

Everyone but Creighton gasps. I giggle. “You go, girl.”

It’s her turn to bow to me, “Thank you, my lady.”

“For public record and life insurance reasons, my lordship did not hear that. I recommend that you all do the same if you plan to live for more than a few days.”

“As much as I hate to say this, I agree with Remi,” Cecily says. “Let us all pretend Ava didn’t say that.”

“But I did say it, and I’d say it again. Fuck E—”

Cecily slaps a hand on her mouth. “You’re drunk, you little shit. When you wake up in the morning, you’ll remember this and thank me and your lucky stars.”

“You’re too young to have a funeral, Ava.” Bran passes her a cold glass of water. “Drink this and start to develop amnesia.”

Ava grumbles some more about how we’re all fucking cowards, among other colorful words.

I slap my hands on the table. “Game! Game! Game!”

“God, this is my lordship asking you to make a permanent drunk version of Glyn. Amen.” Remi grins at me. “What type of game?”

“Dunno. Never have I ever?”

“Let’s do this!” He holds an imaginary mic. “I’ll go first.”

“You always go first,” Cecily says.

“That’s right.” Ava puffs her chest. “Glyn wanted this, so let her play first.”

“Play what?”

My spine jerks and I think I’m definitely drunk, because my reaction is delayed as hell. It takes me some time to realize that the voice isn’t in my head.

I become aware of the thickening of the air, and how it mixes with his cologne. How his presence slowly but surely eats up the atmosphere and leaves no oxygen to breathe.

This isn’t fair. I’m supposed to be trying to get him out of my head tonight.

“What are you doing here?” I slur, then place a hand on my mouth.

There’s a single tap of his index finger on his thigh, then he physically pushes his company to the forefront. “Nikolai was bored, so I took him out for a stroll.”

“Eat shit, motherfucker. I’m not a dog. Also, he was the one who was so bored that he started vandalizing shit,” Nikolai tells me. “I was dragged out against my will because he refuses to admit he misses you.”

“Semantics,” Killian says casually. “Can we join you?”

Careful silence has fallen over the table.

They’re used to Killian, but Nikolai is a different story altogether. They think he’s terrifying, and I agree.

He was bubbling with the need to avenge Killian after the kidnapping and torture Lan performed. Killian, however, waved him off and said he’ll deal with it himself.

I know he did it for me, because he realizes I don’t want Lan hurt, but that barely dulled Nikolai’s need for vengeance.

He’s brutal, and it shows in each of his actions.

But I’ve been seeing him every day and listening to his entertaining retellings of his childhood adventures with Killian, so I don’t really view him in that light. Much.

Everyone at the table most definitely does. Probably because of his permanent scowl and all the tattoos.

Annika has physically distanced herself from sitting opposite Creighton’s side and sneakily changed seats so that she’s beside Ava.

And for the first time since we got here, Creighton raises his head, flips his phone facedown on the table, and looks between Annika and the two newcomers.

“Yeah, sure!” It’s Ava who announces, definitely high on liquid courage. “The more the merrier.”

Killian drags a chair from a nearby table and glues himself to my side, and Nikolai joins him, appearing solemn-faced.

I poke Killian, squinting so I can have a better look at his handsome face. “You said to have fun on my night out with friends.”

“Never said I wouldn’t pay a visit.” He winks.

“Shouldn’t you be busy with school?”

“Never too busy for you, baby.”

“Aren’t you the charming one?”

“Only with you.”

“Why have you brought Nikolai?” I whisper. “He’s terrifying them.”

“He’s not that scary.”

I raise a brow.

“That being the operative word.” He smiles, then says in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, “So what are we playing?”

“Never have I ever,” Bran says, sounding a bit choked. “And Glyn will start.”

You know what? I’m just going to have fun and forget it all tonight. Screw Killian.

I raise a shot. “Never have I ever done something illegal.”

Nikolai lifts a shoulder and downs a shot. Creighton does it without a word.

“What did you do…” Annika asks, then backpedals, swallows, and stares at Nikolai. “Nikolai?”

“You know the drill.”

Ava takes a shot and Cecily and I stare at her dumbfounded.

“What illegal things have you done?” Ces asks.

“Sorry, bitches, there are no rules that say I have to explain. Should’ve set that beforehand.”

Remi downs a shot. “Drugs, those nasty little shits.”

“Why aren’t you drinking?” I ask Killian.

“Because I’m not admitting to doing anything illegal. My father and grandfather are lawyers, thank you very much.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Do you have proof that I committed illegal action?”

“Ugh, whatever.” I roll my eyes.

“Don’t do that,” he whispers low so I’m the only one who hears.

I make a face at him and a strange fire brightens in his eyes, as if he’s amused but also doesn’t like it.

Jeez. He’s a conundrum.

“Your turn,” I murmur, suddenly nervous for what he’ll say.

He has a tendency to be unpredictable with no care in the world for others’ feelings.

“Never have I ever…been in love.”

My heart squeezes and I think I’m going to throw up. Is he doing this on purpose because he feels the change?

Does he see it on my face, too? Like when I look at myself in the mirror?

Ava and Brandon are the only ones who drink to that and they get shit from everyone and deathly glares from Nikolai.

Or maybe the glare is only for one of them.

But all the noise is downed by my internal ticking bomb.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

I raise a shot with shaky fingers to drink, but before it can meet my lips, Killian snatches it and downs it with utter ease.

“You’re drunk, I’ll take your shots.”

“I don’t need you to.” And why the hell does he sound so unapproving for?

“Swoon.” Annika puts her hands together, watching us with an expression full of awe.

“We need to take this game to the next level.” Nikolai holds out a shot. “Never have I ever fucked or experimented with someone of the same sex.”

Then he drinks his shot.

Well, that’s weird.

Nikolai could’ve just picked something he’s actually never have done.

“Does a kiss count?” Ava asks, and he nods.

“Well, screw it.” She downs a shot.

Remi slams a hand on his chest as if he’s about to have a stroke. “This bitch is really looking to get herself killed tonight.”

Killian raises a shot and I stare at him incredulously.

“Don’t look like you’ll faint, little rabbit. Do you really believe all those kinks were done with only women? I used to experiment a lot.”

As he drinks, I pick up a shot and down it in one go.

He narrows his eyes.

“Don’t look surprised, Killer. I used to experiment a lot, too,” I lie through my teeth, but I think he believes it, because he places his hand on my thigh and squeezes. Hard.

Then his lips find my ear, “We’ll talk about this later as I punish the fuck out of you.”

“Whatever.” I sound unaffected when my thighs are smeared with arousal.

“No one else?” Nikolai toys with his empty shot glass, then hums and retrieves a cigarette, letting it hang at the corner of his lips. “Fucking bore. I’m out of here.”

He lights his cigarette on his way to the exit.

“Phew, that was intense.” Annika breathes. “Seriously, Kill. Don’t bring him next time. He’s scary.”

“Are you sure it’s not because he can snitch to your brother?”

She laughs awkwardly. “Don’t be ridiculous. I have nothing to hide from Jer.”

“Uh-huh,” Killian says with clear mockery.

“So who’s next?” Bran speaks, his voice sounding hoarse.

“Me!” Annika glares at Killian. “Never have I ever got my dick sucked.”

“That’s a low fucking blow.” Remi drinks and so do Bran and Killian.

Too much info about my brother.

Note to self, never play these games with him around.

“Wait a minute.” Remi stares at Creigh. “Why aren’t you drinking, Cray Cray? Have you missed the never have I ever for this round?” When he shakes his head, Remi seems exasperated. “Then drink—Jesus fucking Christ, spawn, please tell me you’ve had your dick sucked at least once?”

When Creigh remains silent, Remi falls down on his chair dramatically. “I think I need some medical attention. My own spawn has been missing out and I didn’t know. I’m losing years of my life as we speak, I’m telling you.”

“What’s so special about having one’s dick sucked?” Creighton speaks his longest sentence for the evening.

“Uh, what’s so special about the sun? The moon? The ecosystem? I can go on forever.” Remi sighs. “Jesus, spawn, you’re making me look like a bad mentor.”

“You are, though.” Cecily makes a face at him and he makes one back.

“Proud of you, cousin,” I tell Creigh and he nods. “I’ll drink to you.”

Before I even grab the glass, Killian snatches and downs it on my behalf.

His lips glisten with the alcohol and I think something is wrong with my heart, because it keeps beating so hard when he side-eyes me and whispers in a deep, low tone, “Behave.”

“I thought you wanted me to be a bad girl,” I murmur back.

“I want you to be just the way you are. Minus the drinking.”

“Cherry said you need someone like you so they can understand you better.”

He raises a brow. “And what did you tell her?”

“To go shove it where no one can see. Well, not exactly, but I wish I’d said that.”

He chuckles. “I like it when you’re jealous.”

“Hey, you two lovebirds, we’re playing here.” Ava slaps the table. “Can’t believe quiet Glyndon is the first one to be in a relationship among us.”

“Hey! I’ve been in countless relationships,” Remi says.

“You don’t count.”

“Hey, Remi,” Killian calls, obviously on a nickname basis with my friends.

“What’s up, Kill?”

“Tell us a joke.”

“Oooh, what’s with the peer pressure all of a sudden? I have stage fright. Just kidding. Why do you need the joke? To brag to your friends? Sorry mate, I have to be credited.”

“I just wanted to see how funny you are since someone said you’re hilarious.” I don’t miss how he enunciates the last word.

Remi completely misses that, though. “That someone has delectable taste. Oh, here’s one. What did one butt cheek say to the other?”

Cecily rolls her eyes. “What?”

“Together, we can stop this shit.”

Annika, Ava, Brandon, and I burst out laughing. Creighton smiles a little, and Cecily throws a lemon at him, but can’t stop her grin. “You clown piece of shit.”

“Haha, you bitches love me. If it weren’t for my lordship, you’d be living a boring life.”

“See?” I tell Killian as they all talk at the same time.

“It’s not that funny.”

“Oh, please, you’re just being a twat.”

“Careful, baby. You’re pushing it.”

I flip my hair and lean on my palm to stare at him. “You’re going to punish me anyway, so might as well push you as much as I want.”

“When did you learn to be a pain in the ass?”

I stroke his cheek. “After I met you.”

I can feel his jaw clenching beneath my fingers. “You’re never getting drunk again and speaking in that erotic voice in public.”

My head falls back with a laugh, and he doesn’t let me finish as he abruptly stands and picks me up in his arms. “Glyndon’s had too much to drink. I’m taking her back. She’ll spend the night with me.”

“Nooo, I want to staaay.”

But my words are unheard as he walks out of the pub. I sulk, then I grab him by the hair. “Taking me back, my arse. You just want to fuck me, you perverted, sadistic bloody wanker.”

“Glad you got that off your chest. We’re going to have a long night.”

I laugh because I don’t want to cry. “When will you get tired of fucking me?”

“I’m not sure, but probably never.”

He opens the passenger door of his new car, another custom red Aston Martin that his grandpa bought him, and puts me inside, then fastens my seatbelt, his face inches away from mine.

“What if I start to have feelings for you, what happens then?” I whisper, and I can actually hear the sound of my heart splitting in two. It’s haunting in the dark, freezing, and absolutely horrifying.

“Why does something need to happen?”

“Because that’s how relationships work. There need to be feelings.”

“I already feel a lot for you. Right now, it’s fucking annoyance and anger for letting them see you like this.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking for.”

“Then what are you asking for, Glyndon?”

I stare in the opposite direction, a tear sliding down my cheek. “Something you don’t have.”

“Don’t give me that.” He forces me to stare at him, his fingers digging in my chin. “And don’t you ever use that fucking argument with me.”

“Then if I ask for your heart, will you give it? Of course you won’t. You don’t have it. All your emotions are learned, right? So even if you say you like me, you adore me, you love me, I’ll never believe them, because you don’t believe them either. You say I love you to your mum all the time, but you told me it’s just to placate her. You’ve never felt what love is. You don’t know what love is.”

His nostrils flare. It’s anger, it’s rage, but it’s not for the right reasons. “I’m giving you more than I’ve given anyone in my life, Glyndon. I’m giving you monogamy, dates that I usually don’t give a fuck about, and I’m even entertaining your friends and family. I’m sparing your brother, and choosing not to fight against your cousin, no matter how much he provokes me. I’m being fucking patient with your irritating fights and denials and dramatics. I told you that my tolerance and nice phases don’t come naturally. Not even a little, not even fucking close. So be grateful, take what I’m offering, and stop being fucking difficult every step of the way.”

I can’t control the tear that flows down my other cheek. “What you’re giving me isn’t enough.”

“Glyndon,” he grinds out.

I close my eyes. “I want to go home.”

“Open your fucking eyes.”

I do, though after a while, I repeat, assertively this time, “I want to go home.”

His jaw clenches, but he slowly releases me and goes to driver’s side.

I fall asleep with tears in my eyes and a shard of pain in my soul.

But the truth of the matter is, I should only blame myself for having feelings for a psycho.

A hand pats my shoulder and I wake up, thinking we’ve arrived at the dorm. Instead, we’re in front of a plane.

Maybe I drank too much or I’m imagining we’re in the airport.

Killian appears at my door, his face closed, looking like a dark lord with a taste for little girls. “Time to go.”

“Go where?” I ask, half-spooked, half-drunk.

His index finger taps the door. “Home.”