Made in Malice: Chapter 16

NOVA

I’m embarrassed to admit I did a lot of internet stalking Sunday after waking up and showering. My chin matches my scabbed knees, and I’m pretty sure I chipped a tooth or maybe cracked it, because my tongue keeps worrying the sharp point that wasn’t there before the fall.

Lying to Rory about how it happened when he came to find me to ask about my job yesterday afternoon wasn’t fun. I don’t think he believed the story, but he didn’t call me out on the lie, so I suppose that’s the best I could hope for. I almost asked him if he heard anything about Morningstar, since my search of the local news and social media both came up empty, but I think he would have suspected I had something to do with what happened, and I didn’t want to deal with that.

As I park in the back lot for school Monday morning, I scan the rest of the cars for his and come up empty, but that doesn’t mean much. His car was likely damaged, and I’m sure he has more than one anyway.

As soon as I step out of the car, I regret my black leggings and old band shirt. It’s hot, but I chose the outfit for personal comfort, not because it would keep me cool, plus I wanted some protection for my legs. My knees are going to be all scarred up soon if this keeps up.

Thankfully, the scratches on my arm are almost healed, so I can forgo the long sleeves, but the bruise Alden left on my upper arm is a little more stubborn, only fading to a sickly yellow color. There’s not much I can do to hide my chin, since the little gash is right on the front like it split when I hit the ground. I feel like makeup would only increase the chances of it getting infected, and let’s face it, I’m not having the greatest luck, despite the fact that I’m living in a mansion and driving a new car.

I head straight for my first class, barely seeing anyone as I walk past the Union because I have my eyes locked on the hall ahead of me. No one tries to trip me or even sends any scathing comments in my direction. It should be refreshing, but it only makes me more nervous about what’s coming.

I take the same seat as last time, but the girls in front of me are too busy whispering to each other to even notice me. I catch tiny snippets of their conversation, and it only makes me more curious, because I know I heard the name Morningstar murmured. Do they know what happened this weekend or if he’s okay?

Without warning, the hair on the back of my neck stands up and a chill skates down my spine. I feel warmth at my ear, but I’m too afraid to turn. Surely he’s not going to do anything to me in the middle of class. There are too many witnesses, right?

“Turn around,” he orders, and the girls in front of me snap their heads forward while I barely breathe. The only thing stopping Lucian Morningstar’s lips from touching my ear is my hair, and I’ve never been more grateful for my thick locks.

I sense him shift, but it’s not far because he drapes himself in the chair right next to me. I don’t look over to watch him sprawl, however I can see his shape in my peripheral. His tattooed knuckles are red and split on the desk, but that’s all I can make out clearly. It’s a chore not to look at his face to see if the wound he had on his head is visible, but my survival instincts must kick in, because I’m able to stop myself from moving a muscle, or maybe I’m frozen. Either way, it works in my favor.

I feel him staring at the side of my face and flinch when I see his hand come up. He makes a deep rumble of a sound in his chest, then turns my head with his fingers dangerously close to the cut on my chin. I wince a little from the surprised pain but recover quickly.

“If it isn’t my little nightingale,” he says, barely moving his lips. My eyes dart up to his hairline, and I see a red, angry gash that probably should have had stitches.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, letting my gaze fall back to his eerie eyes.

“Do you always lie so much?” He narrows his eyes.

“To save my skin? Always,” I admit truthfully.

“I need to speak with you.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”

“No.”

“I’m in class.” I turn to look at the stage, hoping the teacher will start class.

“And I’m not asking. You can get up and walk out with me, or I can carry you out.”

I open my mouth to say he wouldn’t dare, but the words die on my tongue, because he would, without question.

“And fair warning.” He leans in really close again, and this time, I feel his lips against the bottom of my ear. I fight the shiver that wants to make me tremble from his warm breath. “If you fight me, I’ll probably enjoy it.”

I shove my chair back from the desk so fast, it scrapes across the floor and makes a screeching sound. Lucian chuckles darkly and licks his bottom lip as I stand. We have the attention of everyone in the room. I don’t know where to look, so I focus on the wall above everyone’s head.

“You’re just full of surprises, nightingale. I can’t tell if I like it better when you defy me or when you listen.”

“Neither, you like neither,” I retort, if only to make myself feel better, but it just makes him laugh harder.

He reaches past me and shoves the door open for me to walk out. I look around the empty hall, wondering what the hell I was thinking coming out here willingly. If I made him carry me out while yelling, maybe the teacher would have notified Rory or something.

“Keep walking,” he instructs, using his body behind mine to keep me moving.

“Where to?” I question, stalling.

Lucian blinks his light blue eyes at me lazily. If I didn’t hate him for being such a jerk, I might think it was sexy, or maybe scary, but it’s something to see. “That way.” He nods his head down the hall, toward the Union.

I sidestep him and walk in that direction. At least there will be people around.

Right before I pass the stairs, he drops his arm in front of me, grabbing a hold of the handrail of the stairs and barring me from going farther. “Up,” he demands.

“And if I say no?”

He stares down at me, his eyes nearly as wild as they were Saturday night when I ran from him. “Same rules. You walk your pretty little ass up there, or I will carry you.”

“My butt isn’t little enough for you to carry up there,” I argue, aggravated with him and myself that my heart did something funny when he called me pretty.

“Try me.” He tilts his head to the side, and suddenly, I feel more like prey as realization dawns. He does like this in some weird way.

He must know the second I back down, because he eases out of my space and allows me to walk ahead of him, but he’s practically on my heels all the way up to the third floor, where I step quickly to the side, keeping away from the railing in case he wants to push me over.

His light eyes go to my chest as I try to hide the fact that I’m heaving. He, however, isn’t even breathing hard.

When he starts to walk toward me, I back up, matching his steps to keep distance between us. When I bump into someone else, I realize I stepped right into his trap. Hands wrap gently over my upper arms, and Lucian says, “You’re scaring her,” but his mouth never moves.

I look up and over my shoulder and nearly scream as I jerk myself away. How the hell can he be in front of me and behind me?

“Fuck, look at her chin,” the one from behind me says, then glares over at the other Lucian.

“What the heck?” I whisper while wondering if I’ve finally lost my mind.

“You really don’t know anything do you, nightingale?”

“Stop calling me that and Charity. My name is Nova.”

“I will call you whatever I like, little lamb.” Lucian looks positively pleased with himself as he peers down at me, or maybe he just likes pissing me off.

“May I?” The other steps up with his hand poised near my face.

“Do what?” I lean back on instinct.

“I’m just making sure you’re okay,” he tells me and waits before lifting my chin with a featherlight touch.

“This better not scar, Lucian.” His words are rough, but not meant for me.

Jesus, it’s like looking at a mirror image. Even their tattoos seem to match perfectly. “Twin?” I question when my mind tries to jump to some other even stranger explanation.

“Thank you for helping my brother,” he says while looking down at my lips, or maybe it’s my chin, but my belly does this heavy flop.

“You’re welcome,” I reply without hesitation.

“He told me you fell when he grabbed you, and I saw this on the camera.” His thumb traces just below the cut. The skin is really sensitive, and it stings a little, but I ignore it.

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to make her fall,” Lucian gripes, but his words aren’t for me, they are for his brother. It sounds like this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.

“You should apologize,” the man in front of me says while keeping me trapped in his gaze. It’s strange to be staring at a man who’s done nothing but try to make my life hell and realize he’s not the same person.

“I can offer to kiss it better,” Lucian mocks.

I step back from the man showing me too much kindness. I’m not falling for this good guy, bad guy garbage. “You would much sooner bite me.”

Lucian doesn’t even try to hide the dark look in his eyes when he scans me up and down. “So many soft places,” he says under his breath, but the insult about me being chunky still hurts.

“I won’t say anything about your accident if that’s what you’re worried about.” I cross my arms over my stomach.

“Tell me why you stopped,” Lucian demands.

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.

“Were you hoping you could finish me off or just rob me?”

“Are you joking?” I scoff harshly.

“Tell me why you stopped,” he says a little louder.

“To make sure you were okay.” I raise my voice to match his. “I wasn’t trying to rob you. I was trying to get your phone for you so you could call someone for help since you didn’t want me to. I should have run you over with my car, but not everyone is as heartless as you.” I snap the last part out of anger, not that I would have ever even thought about actually running him over.

“Why would you care if I was okay?” he spits as if he still thinks I’m lying.

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” I toss my arms up in the air.

“What did you expect to get out of it? Do you think I’ll like you now and be nice to you?” He makes his voice a little whiny as if he’s implying that’s how I sound.

I stare him dead in his face, and the features I thought were so handsome the first time I saw him blur until all I see is the nasty sneer he looks at me with. There must have been some small part of me that thought he would come to understand there’s no reason for him to hate me. I’m no threat to him, but I realize how stupid that was now. I know what I am to him, he made it perfectly clear before he ever laid eyes on me. I just stupidly thought I could make him see reason.

“The only thing I will ever want from you is for you to forget I’m alive.”

He takes one step forward like he might get in my face, but his brother blocks his path. “Thank you for stopping,” he tells me, but he sounds sad. “My brother could have died out there if it weren’t for you.”

I don’t have enough energy to give his words much thought because I’m too focused on finding an escape while he’s blocking Lucian. Just as I get near the staircase, someone grips my wrist, stopping me. I wrench my arm away and sneer, “Touch me again, and I will take us both over that ledge. My life is worthless, remember?”

Lucian’s eyes widen for just a second, then he steps back as if he believes I would drag him over the third-floor railing.

I stomp down the stairs, feeling so mad I could cry, but there is no way I’m letting him, or anyone else, think he hurt me.

I allow my anger to drive me right back to my classroom, where I shove the door open before dropping none too gracefully into my seat at the back of the class. Several heads turn to watch me, but I take a page out of Morningstar’s book and pretend none of them exist.