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Had that only just happened?
It felt like so long ago now, Ares, with his long arms, hanging over my brother’s ride. His thick but sculpted eyebrows knitted in tightly, his fist against my window. He had his shaggy hair hoisted up in a man-bun, AirPods in his ears and long running shorts on. His cutoff tee matched the shorts, and he was arrogant enough to wear a shirt that basically gave him male side boob. The thing was a scrap of fabric at best, and when his fist rammed into the door again, I realized that’d been what he’d initially done to gain my attention.
“The fuck you doing here, little?” his deep voice growled at me. It was muted through my brother’s window, and he gestured for me to put it down.
I did, and he lowered his long body into view.
His dark eyebrows inched in tighter. “You here for an exclusive too?” He gazed around. “Or are you here to give one?”
The words stung, my eyes twitching. I mean, I pretty much figured out what was going on here with Legacy.
But still to hear the words…
He’d obviously confirmed my beliefs, beliefs about Dorian and what he thought he knew. This was a misunderstanding.
And Ares didn’t seem to want to stay to debate anything else.
He pushed off my door, going in the opposite direction, and though I couldn’t run for shit, I was out of my car and after him.
Now, when I’d woken up this morning, the last thing I thought I’d ever fucking do would be running. I didn’t run for shit, let alone run after who could easily be considered my arch nemesis. Ares had given me more than a hard time since I’d gotten to Maywood Heights.
“Eh, Mallick!”
His Nikes skidded to a stop in the street. He whipped around, me fucking huffing behind him. I was still in my school uniform, but even if I’d had the appropriate running gear (i.e., not knee-highs and flats), I still wouldn’t be able to run for shit. I panted like a psychopath, and he’d only gone a few long strides.
“Keep your fucking ass down,” he gritted. Next thing I knew, he was grabbing me and taking me with him. I wanted to check his ass for pretty much snatch-grabbing me off the street, but he wasn’t running in the opposite direction of me and actually talking. Since that was the point, to talk to him, I went along with his sprint. I was half-running, half-dragged until we came to a stop behind some trees.
Now, if I was a more dainty bitch, I might have tried to pretend I could breathe once we stopped. I wasn’t, though, and pretty much choked on any incoming air.
This had Mallick arch one of his bushy eyebrows, and he definitely hadn’t tried to hold back his smirk. He folded his arms. “Cardio, much? Jesus, little. You act like you’ve never run a day in your goddamn life.”
He forgot he had a good amount of height over me. I was tall, five-ten, but still. He was a dude and tall as fuck. I coughed. I started to say something, but instead flipped him off.
He chuckled, a little dry but only like half. He seemed to find this whole situation funny, and normally, that’d piss me off. I mean, it still pissed me off, but he and his lot were super mad at me right now.
I found his humor dulled my anxiety a little, irony in that. I hated this guy, but I had an ulterior motive here. He could talk to Dorian for me.
“Anyway, the press doesn’t need to know I’m here,” he said, and I wanted to face-palm myself for not thinking about that. Of course, they’d want to talk to him too. The Mallicks and the rest of the Legacy families were very buzzworthy in this town. They’d be stalking him just as much as Dorian. Especially since their families were so close. “I’m house-sitting for the Prinzes while they’re gone.”
My head shot in his direction. “Gone?”
He flinched, like actually legit flinched as if someone had struck him. He cursed. “Yeah.”
Perhaps, he hadn’t wanted to admit that detail.
I wondered why he had?
But he did, though, his feet more fascinating now than looking at me. He propped his hands on his hips. “So I suppose you want to go spill that out now? Tell the press or… your guardian?”
I didn’t know what Callum had to do with anything. Sure, I’d told him the situation with Dorian, but that’d been after the fact. To help him. “Look. I know Dorian thinks I told on him—”
His smirk returning stopped me. He laughed. “You know it really doesn’t matter what you say right now,” he said, his smile fading. “Because anything that comes out of your lips will always be questionable as fuck as far as I’m concerned.” His eyes darkened. “You’re right. That is what Dorian thinks, and because he does, we stand by him.” His throat tightened. “It doesn’t matter what you say, little. You’re questionable. It’s my buddy’s word against yours, which means you have no say.”
His honesty struck me silent.
And he was right.
It really didn’t matter what I said. I was going against Legacy, foundations and families. I didn’t have a voice here.
