“If it’s nothing, why would you think it was something?” Micah asked. “Why would that stand out to you?” For once, he didn’t sound angry but curious. Somehow, that was worse.
“I… Atticus isn’t the cabin-in-the-woods type. He’s too…neat. Tidy. We’re not even allowed to wear shoes in the house. He just doesn’t seem the type.”
“See, was that so hard?” Micah asked. “Get me more information on that cabin by tomorrow night and maybe you’ll have Malachi back before he gets jumped again.”
Micah hung up before Shiloh could respond. The hand he was holding the phone with dropped to his side. Absently, he let Levi guide him to the sofa. To his horror, the moment he released him, Shiloh burst into tears, those huge wracking ugly sobs that nobody wanted anyone to witness.
“Mal’s been hurt really badly.”
Ever was at his side in an instant, squeezing himself between Levi and Shiloh, curling one arm around him and pressing his cheek to Shiloh’s shoulder. The smaller boy’s presence was comforting, but did nothing to stop the whirlwind of thoughts whipping around in his brain.
Shiloh had been so close to getting Mal out. How would this affect Enzo’s plan? Could someone make bail if they were hospitalized? Would it make a judge more likely to grant his bail request?
“What?” Lake said.
Cree frowned. “When?
“How?” Seven asked. “Does Enzo know?”
Shiloh shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything more than that. Micah said he got jumped in the showers and was badly hurt. They’ve transported him to a different facility three hours away.”
Shiloh was met with silence, but he didn’t care. He just continued to cry, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. Why did nothing ever work for him? “How is Enzo supposed to get him out now?”
Nobody spoke. They didn’t have any answers. They didn’t know if Malachi was alright. They didn’t know if their chances of getting him home were ruined. Nobody knew anything. Would Shiloh be able to talk to him? Visit him? Would Levi drive him three hours away to see him?
His eyes burned, but he couldn’t stop his tears. He was such a crybaby. The spot beside him dipped. Shiloh assumed the hand on his back was Levi’s until a familiar voice said, “Oh, don’t cry, doodlebug.”
Shiloh’s head snapped up, staring in disbelief. “Mal?”
Mal gave him a placid smile, patting his head. “Hi, bug.”
Shiloh launched himself into Mal’s arms, knocking him backwards on the sofa, hugging him so tight his muscles burned. Mal’s embrace was softer, his back pats perfunctory, like he knew this was how someone was supposed to comfort a human even if he didn’t quite know why.
The others stared in shock, as if Malachi had just appeared before them like a magic trick. Shiloh suspected he’d arrived with Enzo, who lounged against the metal support pillar beneath the loft, looking like a Brooks Brothers model in his navy pants and white dress shirt. He wasn’t paying any attention to Shiloh or Mal, but to Seven who now lurked in the corner, tucked deeper into his hoodie, making a point to not look at the older attorney.
When Shiloh had assured himself Malachi was real and not a vivid hallucination, he sat up, pulling Mal with him. He ran his hands over his arms and his face. There wasn’t a mark on him. If anything, he looked prettier than the last time Shiloh had seen him. His skin was bright, his long hair clean and shiny. He still wore his gray prison sweats, but it didn’t do anything to detract from how healthy he looked. How many people thrived in prison?
“I don’t understand…” Shiloh said, looking at Enzo.
Enzo pushed himself away from his post. “I thought about what you said yesterday. About what might happen if Micah realized Mal had made bail. Since I suspect Micah has somehow struck a deal with a federal prosecutor, I thought it was best we do this the…not entirely legal way.”
“You’re an attorney, right?” Lake asked, confused.
Seven snorted. “That doesn’t seem to get in the way of his criminal activities.”
Enzo chuckled. “Talk about the pot and the kettle. Don’t you kill people, bright eyes?”
“I didn’t swear an oath to act ethically,” Seven muttered.
“I told you yesterday,” Enzo said. “I have my own code of ethics.”
Seven rolled his eyes. “Sounds like a great excuse to bend the law.”
Enzo grinned. “You and my mother would get along great.”
That seemed to shut Seven up for good.
To Shiloh, Enzo said, “I went over a lot of people’s heads, called in a lot of favors, and pretty much sold my soul for this. So, until you come up with a plan to…neutralize Micah once and for all, Malachi needs to stay out of sight. He shouldn’t even be here but he insisted on seeing you. He said you’d be freaking out thinking he was dead.”
