Page 110 of The Unravelings

“Looks like we’re in this together. My dad is going to be so thrilled that I’m making new connections for our business. He’s going to be so fucking proud.” Simon chuckles under his breath, and his shoulders relax.

“And you’re not worried about the initiations anymore?” I raise a brow.

Simon waves a hand. “With you there with me, we’ll fly through them like champions. Now, let me make you a drink, and we can celebrate!” He claps his hands a few times, excitement wafting from him.

“Ugh. Si. No more drinks,” I groan, slowly following him out of my room and into the living room. “I don’t think my stomach or my brain can handle your concoctions right now,” I playfully quip.

Simon snorts. “Fine. No pink drink or alcohol. We’ll have cappuccinos and cookies from Jenni’s Cafe. My treat.” He doesn’t wait for me to agree as he picks up his phone and puts in an order for delivery. “And done. We won’t even have to leave. They’ll be here in ten minutes.” Happily, he makes his way to the couch and sits beside me with a sigh, and we fall into a comfortable silence where our thoughts consume us.

Simon’s phone beeps twice, and his face falls when he looks at the screen. “What…” He trails off in a choked sound. “Oh, my God.”

“What? What happened?” I instantly perk up, watching him fold in on himself.

He throws his phone at me as he wipes his eyes, and I read the short message repeatedly.

Wade: I was attacked, almost kidnapped, and stabbed… I’m in the hospital…

31

Malic

Watching the good doctor from the shadows of the blood drive was thrilling. Even more than the blood willingly dripping from her intended victims. Poor saps, they had no fucking clue she was salivating to get her hands on them. She flitted around, going from one unsuspecting victim to the next, never knowing I was watching her from the corner of the room.

My eyes never left her.

Well, until I got a wee bit distracted. More than a wee bit. A whole-lotta-bit. But that tends to happen when my obsession walks through the door with another man.

My little ghost still cleverly conceals herself as Oliver Davenport. One day, I’ll strip her of those baggy clothes and feast on what I know lies beneath.

And that day will be glorious. Especially when I can prove to Wilder that his unspoken attraction to Oliver isn’t unfounded. He doesn’t understand yet. One day, he will, and I’ll be the one to throw back the curtain and show Wilder exactly what he wants to see.

Until then, I have business to attend to. People to bleed dry. A doctor to face the consequences of her actions.

I hum to myself as the lights overhead in my favorite room buzz, creating a perfect melody. This is the life, isn’t it? I’ve got a doctor prisoner to interrogate, and this time, I don’t have to worry about a fucking war nipping at my heels. Although I’d welcome it. Those pricks need to learn a lesson, and I’ll be happy to volunteer as their executioner.

A grin stretches over my lips as I stare at the black-rimmed glasses resting in my hand. Not too heavy. But not light either. If I were a good little boy, I’d give them back to their owner.

But I’m not a good little boy. I’m wicked. My little ghost will have to get very creative if she ever wishes to see her magical glasses again. Maybe then she can help me understand why she’s really here and dressed like a man. Perhaps I should strip her naked and play until she screams with pleasure. Then I can wring the answers from her lips. Because drugging her into oblivion at my party didn’t do a damn thing but make her pass out in my bed. Something I won’t complain about. Not at all. She curled so close to me, muttering about being tired and the room spinning. I’m glad she didn’t puke in my bed. However, that may have given me a reason to undress her. Wait. No. I’m not that obsessed. Right?

I lean against the kitchen counter, watching Simon animatedly talk to another man who gives him a knowing grin as he looks around the kitchen. Hmm. That’s not who he showed up to the party with. Interesting…

“Something to make my friends…” I hear bits and pieces of his conversation with the guy who grins, pointing at the various bottles of booze lining the counter and the red cups, like they’re trying to decide what to make themselves with the booze our boss provided for this makeshift initiation interest.

Friends, he says. Does this perhaps involve my little ghost? Hmmm. I peek around, trying to seek them out, and grin when Olivia comes into view, dressed like Oliver with a weary expression. My poor little ghost. She’s nervous to be here. Maybe I should help her relax a little more. Yes. That’s what I should do. Help her relax and unwind. She deserves it, after all. And me? Well, I have the perfect recipe for that.

Waltzing forward, I pluck a bottle of vodka, gin, coconut rum, and pink schnapps from the counter with an enthusiastic grin. Yes, this will be my greatest achievement of the night. Even with Keeper’s voice bouncing around my skull like a little conscience, I drown him out.

I fucking need this.

“If you’ll allow me,” I say with a grin, gesturing to the bottles and two empty cups. “I might have the perfect combination for you and your friends.”

Simon’s eyes widen, and a hint of fear sparks there. Even his friend takes a step back at the sight of me. Oh, maybe I’m smiling too much. Now is not the time to scare her friend away.

“Sure!” Simon chipperly says. “What is it?”

“Ohhh, a fun pink drink.” I grin more as I prepare the drinks, putting copious amounts of alcohol into the cup. Especially hers. Peeking over my shoulder, I take note of Simon talking with his friend again, chatting away and not paying an ounce of attention to me as I slip the goo from four Tylenol PMs into Olivia’s drink. Nothing too much that it’ll hurt her, but enough to loosen her tight little lips and send her straight to me.

“Here you are!” I say, handing over the loaded pink drink to Simon with a grin. “Give it a try.”