MAVERICK'S POV
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"She's here, Maverick. You can't turn back now."
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Malachi is right; there's no changing things at this point. Lilliana is here, in Travis's mansion and her position with him is practically official.
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None of us can turn back now.
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Do I regret bringing her for the reason of this being a dangerous line of work? No.
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Do I regret bringing her because Brittany has made her unwarranted appearance? Absolutely.
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I mean fuck! Can I catch a break?
Choosing Brittany has always been the easier option, especially before Lilliana and I's kiss. Brittany is someone who works for Travis too, so she lives the same lifestyle by choice, not persuasion. Her and I have connected based on all of our same interests, which is quite a few. She isn't a best friend to make things complicated with...plus, she's just as insane in bed as she is out of it.
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Lilliana...oh, Lilliana has the ability to turn my entire life upside down, in any way she desires. My relationship with Lilliana could never be matched, bringing me such a comfort that I couldn't come close to finding elsewhere.
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Lilliana is home.
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"All of this could've been avoided." Malachi tells me, leaning back against the kitchen's island counter, crossing one leg over the other. "If you would've been a little smarter, that is."
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Hunched over the counter top and using my elbows as support, I make a "pff" sound.
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"We can sit back and shit talk Brittany; you know I enjoy that." He suggests. "Or you can consider where you were just the night before you decided to make out with Lilliana..." He clears his throat. "I'd pick the second option; it'll help you out when that awkward conversation with Lilli comes. One more thing might be helpful; don't bring up how wrong Brittany is for intruding this weekend. Lilli won't want to hear that. She wants an explanation about you and her, not you and Brittany."
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Giving pointers on how to handle relationships isn't something Malachi usually does. The big brother role you'd think he'd be playing hasn't ever been a thing. Why he suddenly gives a shit about how Lilli and I's conversation goes, I don't know.
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"You give relationship advice now?" I question with a chuckle.
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Malachi is quick with his comeback, matching my humorous tone. "Only when one is so desperate."
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"Boys." Malory announces herself as she appears around the corner, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen. "He's ready for you."
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I can feel the disappointment coming from Malory.
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She's been a mother figure to every person who comes in and every person who doesn't make it out. If there's no one around to care about you, Malory happily will. She's taken an extra liking to Malachi and I, favoriting us under the radar. She treated me, and continues to treat me in a way that my own mother has never came close to.
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Malory isn't like the rest of us; she's never hurt a soul, wouldn't think to. Travis always liked that about her, that being why she's in charge of almost everything inside the house. She keeps things moving smoothly, supervises the staff, a right hand to Travis...a clean right hand. You could describe her as more of an assistant.
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I can tell by the look on her face that she doesn't like what problems I've caused, that she's anything but on my side. Not that I blame her, I just don't enjoy feeling like she's going to give me a huge speech any minute. It's just as bad as the lingering conversation with Lilliana.
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"Well if it isn't the monsters under everyone's beds."
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Travis English accent echos throughout his oversized office. The amount of space he has is for lounging in the house is so large that not all of them are ever even touched.
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The wooden double doors, so tall they almost reach the ceiling, close with a soft thud behind us.
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"I always did prefer a closet." Malachi says as we enter deeper into the office.
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Travis chuckles as he flips through some files. "Six kills in a month."
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"That's gotta be a record." I comment, sitting down into the black leather chair on the other side of his desk.
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"If the feds found you two out, the whole world would be fighting for the death penalty." He assures with a smile, pleased with us, as he always is.
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"That's ok." Malachi says, leaning against one of the pillars to my left. "We live on death row every day." His voice is uncaring but amused. "Only difference is, we'd be locked in a cell."
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Waking up for us is like waiting for death each day...but impatiently.
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"With your skills combined, we needn't worry about it." Travis entertained his fingers on top of the desk, leaning forward. "Now tell me..." his eyes dart between the two of us, excitedly. "How are things coming along with Lilliana? Is she craving her next yet?"
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I rest my arms on the chair's armrests. "She's confused right now. She liked killing Cory but is conflicted; the world says it's wrong so she's trying to force feeling guilty."
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"You think that's working?" Travis questions.
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"Absolutely not." I answer. "Bringing her here is another form of persuasion." I elaborate. "We think it might be the push she needs."
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Malachi then adds; "She needs a desired kill. Lilliana is insane enough without murder...All she has to do is feel what it's like to kill someone she thinks deserves it. After that, she'll understand why we tell her taking lives is therapeutic."
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I scratch my chin. "Nah. Lilliana doesn't hate anyone enough to kill them."
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There's a moment of silence.
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"Sure she does." Malachi says in a nonchalant tone.
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I look over at him expectantly, as does Travis who is invested in our every word.
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"Tate Lawson." He finally clarifies. "He got a bit aggressive with her at a party last summer, didn't know how to take no for an answer."
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I remember partying with Tate a few times over the summer. Sometimes I'm too stuck in my own world, so much so that I hadn't really realized that Tate hasn't had anything to say to us since we returned to school. It explains the lack of even a greeting from him.
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My hands twitch as my thoughts run deeper, imagining the situation and how I wasn't there to help her.
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Why wouldn't she tell me? I would've cut his hands off, disabling him from touching anyone ever again. His dick would've been the next thing to go; he doesn't deserve any pleasure when he has a habit of demanding it from others. Then I'd return him to sender.
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If anyone kills Tate...I'd like it to be me.
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"How do you know that?" I ask Malachi, eyebrows drawing together.
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"I know everything about Lilliana; it's my job."
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Of course that's why; Travis made it clear that if she is to know about we we do, regardless whether she takes part, it would be Malachi's job to be the one to study her.
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Thinking about it makes me realize that Malachi holds every piece of information about Lilliana that she never wanted to share with me, that she hid from me.
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I don't really like that.
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"Tate will be thrilled to hear the news." Travis beams, ignoring the unforeseen tension between Malachi and I.
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Travis places his hands down on the table with a soft bang as he announces, "Well I don't want to take any longer; let bring Lilliana in."
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