Mal figured they’d tossed his fake apartment. No doubt Angus had made sure everything inside stood up to scrutiny. “Yes.” How could he say no after what had just happened?
Isaac laid out a list of things that needed to be accomplished, including a walk around several acres to check the perimeter. Only Mal could keep people safe. Yes, it would take many hours, but wasn’t the safety of women and children of utmost importance?
Mal nodded. It was far easier for the cult to keep him from sleeping than he’d thought.
He was back undercover again. The thought sliced like a blade to the chest.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Pippa heard Mal’s truck pull up around two in the morning, even through the wild storm going on. She’d been tossing and turning all night, trying to avoid nightmares. Sliding out of bed, she moved to the window to see him jump out of a truck. It wasn’t his or Angus’s truck. This one was a deep blue, almost black. She couldn’t see the driver.
Mal looked at her house and then started up his own walkway.
She ran to unlock the doors and jump out on the porch. Rain and wind pummeled her, blowing her hair in every direction. “Malcolm?” she called.
He hesitated and then partially turned. She held her breath until he switched directions and walked toward her, stepping easily over the shrubs and then gracefully moving up her sidewalk through the rain. “Why are you up so late?” Water ran down the hard angles of his face.
“Couldn’t sleep.” Tension surrounded them, and not just from the storm.
Lightning flashed, and he frowned. “Does it ever stop raining here?”
She stepped back in the doorway. “Yes. This is a normal spring, though.” What was wrong with him? His shoulders were one tense line, and this close, she could see the vein ticking in his neck. “Rough day?” she asked.
His scoff was more of a growl. “You could say that.” He scrubbed a rough hand through his already wet hair. The rain molded his thin cotton shirt to cut muscles.
Energy seemed to ricochet off him. Dark and deep ... angry even. “Where’s your jacket?” she asked, looking for anything to say. Anything to gauge his mood.
He frowned and looked down the now silent road. “Left it in the truck.”
Her knees weakened just a little. Her hands trembled, and every ounce of her wanted to take another step back. “Um, do you want to tell me about your day?” Her lungs felt odd.
“No.” That green gaze slashed back to hers, looking down from an intimidating height. This was a part of him she hadn’t seen before. “I’m tired of being lied to. Tired of being manipulated. Tired of being undercover.”
Yeah, she’d figured he was undercover again. Hopefully, he was talking about his job and not her right now. When she’d been scared, he’d helped. “Would you like to come in and cuddle?” Gathering her strength, she reached for his wet shoulder, curling her fingers over the taut muscle. “I could rub your shoulders.”
“My shoulders aren’t what I want you to rub.” His voice thickened.
She blinked. The crudeness caught her off guard, and yet her body softened. Everywhere. “Come in, Malcolm.”
“No.” He shrugged off her hand. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” The scent of whiskey drifted on the wind around him. “This isn’t good, Pippa. I’m not in a safe place right now. For you.”
What did that mean? She didn’t know much, but she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. “It’s okay.”
His hands slid into his wet jean pockets, as if to keep from touching her. “No, it really isn’t. Not tonight. I can’t be gentle like before. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
“That was you gentle?” she blurted out, more than a little intrigued.
His chuckle held a warning. “Yeah, baby. That was me gentle.”
Heat bloomed in her abdomen, tugging low. She needed to talk to him, but not when he was in this mood. There was something so tortured about him, she wanted to help. To somehow soothe this beast of anger. “Then come inside and don’t be gentle.” She faced him, being as brave as she knew how to be.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” The dim light from inside played over his hard features, and his dark gaze trapped hers like a magnet. “Trust me on this. Go inside and go to bed.”
“No.” Her chin lifted. “I’m not afraid of you.”
He moved closer to her, and enough heat poured off him that steam rose between them. “You’re smarter than that. Get your ass back to bed.”
A thrill zapped down her torso, flashing a surge of adrenaline through her veins. This was a challenge, a game she didn’t know how to play. But if he thought the rough order would make her back down, he’d miscalculated. “Why?” she whispered, sliding toward him. She couldn’t stop. Curiosity and an edgy need propelled her.
